Chapter Text
The three groggy friends (or rather something of a close approximation to a friend) woke up in a house.
Now it’s not all that unusual to wake up in a house. Unless of course a house is not where you fell asleep.
“Where are we?” a sleepy southern voice asked through the fog of sleep. Jonathan had had a good rest, which was a rarity. And therefore a cause of concern for later, when he’s more conscious.
“I am… unsure of that at the moment.” Is the response, which was Edward’s way of saying I have no fucking clue, but I will find out and– etcetera etcetera. You can fill out proceeding threats for yourself.
“It’s a living room Dormouse. We are all on the floor of a living room.” Jervis helpfully supplies, sitting crossed legged at the foot of a small couch. It would comfortably fit 2, be a bit of a squeeze with 3 and mighty uncomfortable with 4.
“I know that Jervis,” Edward replied, sitting up and pulling his legs out from under the coffee table. “What is of greater concern is where this living room is.”
Before Jervis can reply Edward puts up a hand.
“I know the living room is in a house, Jervis. I mean where the house is. It’s possible we’re not even in Gotham.”
While the two chatted on the floor Jonathan bothered to venture off of it. Choosing to stand from his position behind the couch and investigate rather than sit and discuss. The house made him uncomfortable, the age, the decor, the smell. When he went to look out the window he squinted his eyes in preparation for the hot Georgia sun. His eyes beheld a far different and possibly even more concerning sight.
“We’re not in Gotham anymore Edward. Or Kansas for that matter.”
The red-headed man’s eyes widen as he delivers a terse “Shit.” Before booking it for the door. Not even bothering to fully stand up first, simply letting his momentum pull him up and forwards as he races away.
As Jervis watched him sprint away he gave out a little “Oh dear.” Dormouse only reacted like that if things were really bad. Like immediate danger or an unexpected visit from the Jabberwoky. March Hare began walking up to him. Rising to meet him, or rather to meet his middle as Jon is quite tall and Jervis is quite short, Jervis asked. “What is the matter March Hare? Have you discovered where we are?”
Jonathan kneels down, hands on the other man’s shoulder as he looks into his eyes. “Jervis, I need you to stay calm.”
“Well if you tell me what the matter is–”
“We appear to be in Oz, Jervis. Oz.”
“Oz? No no no no no” the shorter man pushes away shaking his head and pacing. “No no no no no no, that place isn’t real. Only Wonderland is!”
“We’re not really in Oz Jervis. Just a… startingly good recreation of it.”
“Well then we must get out of here as quickly as possible.”
- - - - - ? - - - - -
Edward grabbed the doorframe as he threw open the door, his grip preventing himself from tumbling out onto the yellow bricks. Shit, yellow bricks. Looking to either side of the door he finds what he’s looking for and rushes over. Only noticing after he’s reached them that the black and white stocking-ed feet sticking out from under the house are bare. “Crap.”
“Looking for these?”
Edward’s head whips towards the voice to find a giggling child holding up the invaluable pair of ruby red slippers in one hand. They’re red, not silver. Which means movie, not book. That’s probably better for our survival chances and hopefully marginally better for Jervis’s sanity. “Is there any chance that you’d give me those shoes?”
“Nope!” the boy chirps before giving off a chime-esqe giggle. “You’re not Dorothy!"
He narrows his eyes. “Well you don’t appear to either.”
The kid wags his finger before puffing out his chest. “I’m not going to wear them silly. I’m keeping them safe!”
“From what?” Edward indulges the kid. If he can keep him talking he might reveal more about the rules of this place.
“From you! Duh!” The child rolls his eyes like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. And well… it kinda was.
“Why? I don’t exactly cut the most menacing figure.” He needed to figure out why they were here and what needed to be done to get those shoes and get out.
The kid points. “You’re kneeling next to a corpse.”
He had completely forgotten about that. Glancing over to the legs once last time he awkwardly coughs and rises to standing. Shuffling a few steps away from the deceased witch. “Ignoring the corpse, which I bear no responsibility towards, why would you need to protect the shoes from me? What danger do I pose?”
“None! But if you’d gotten the shoes you’d have ruined the story.”
“As if it’s a particularly good one.”
The pair of arguers swivel their heads over to the front door where Jervis stands with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. Crane shadowing the door way behind him.
Ed and Jon exchange a glance that reassures the former that the risk of decapitation has remained the same. With Jervis the chances are never zero, but thankfully the miniscule chance that their companion will call for their heads has not increased in this new environment.
Though the same cannot be said for the shoe wielding kid.
Jervis marches down the singular patio step with a surprising amount of authority for a man his size, with his fashion sense, and literally out of his element. As he approaches the child Jonathan slips down to Edward’s side, whispering. “Who’s the kid?”
Just as carefully Ed replies, “He seems to be our Munchkin replacement. He got to the shoes before I could, but they’re red so–”
“Movie.”
“Exactly.”
Jon’s eyes sweep over the kid. The pale boy’s style could best be described as ‘Loud’. His face and arms were covered in colorful bandaids and stickers. A set of cowprint (Cowprint!) overalls over a bright teal turtleneck. Maroon colored hair that appears far too voluminous for a kid his size swallows dozens of brightly colored hair trinkets. If his strange taste of fashion and pointed ears weren’t enough to firmly mark him as ‘inhuman’ his wide pupiless orange eyes did the trick.
Jervis finally finished his serious procession towards the boy and opened his mouth to start a no doubt scathing speech about the superiority of Wonderland when he was rudely interrupted by a loud pop and the falling of confetti.
The boy had gone.
Jervis pivoted to face his compatriots with a huff, arms still crossed. “Even in Wonderland it is expected to give a proper goodbye.”
Before Edward could point out how often a character simply disappears on Alice he was interrupted by a growing shadow from above.
Jonathan looks up and gives a dejected sigh. “It’s the bitch in the bubble.”