Kurt, come back. He's in trouble. Hatter's in trouble.

Kurt woke from his dream with a start, panting still as his heart pounded in his chest. It was that person again. Well, people. There were always two of them. Two boys dressed in navy blazers with red piping. One was blonde, the other brunette, but they spoke in turn like twins. They were strange, always smiling too brightly. It was almost abnormal.

With a groan, Kurt rolled over to look at his second-hand digital clock. It was already six! He hopped out of bed and hastily got into the shower. He had to be at the restaurant by six forty-five.

"Fuck, there goes my skin care routine. What is with that stupid clock?" Kurt complained as he got out of the shower—which was already running cold—and made his way to his wardrobe. He put on the regulation black slacks, white button-down, red polyester vest and the black bow-tie before bolting from his apartment.

He ran through the doors of the restaurant with one minute to spare.

"Kurt!" The manager of the restaurant, Mr. Figgins, was standing near his office. "You're late!"

"I'm sorry, sir. But my alarm didn't go off."

"I don't care, Mr. Hummel. Tardiness is not tolerated at McKinley's Diner. Got it?"

"Yes sir, sorry." Kurt bowed his head respectfully and ran into the kitchen to get his apron and order pad.

"Boy, this is the third time this week. What the hell is up?" Mercedes, his fierce best friend, was standing near her own locker with her arms crossed. "It's not those dreams again, is it?"

"I don't get it, 'Cedes. I stopped having those dreams five years ago, and now all of the sudden they're back?" He dropped onto a nearby bucket and buried his face in his hands.

"What happened this time?" She asked, kneeling beside him and resting a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"The same thing as last time. But with the two boys this time. I think they called themselves the Cheshire twins last time I was there? I don't know. But it was the same message." Kurt lifted his hands and made air quotes, deepening his voice to exaggerate the seriousness. "'Kurt, come back. He's in trouble. Hatter's in trouble.' Exactly the same as last time."

"This… Hatter." Mercedes looked at him quizzically, "What is it about him? Why do they keep coming to you?"

"I…" Kurt blushed, "I was closest to the Hatter. He was nice to me, and funny."

"So he was a perv?"

"No!" He corrected quickly, "We were the same age then. Both in Middle School. And the second time, too. Both in High School. We were all around the same age." Kurt thought for a moment, "Except for the blonde lady. The 'Caterpillar', as she called herself. She was older."

"I think you should go talk to someone about this, Kurt." Mercedes said as she stood. "Having dreams with imaginary friends is fine in Middle School, High School even. But you're twenty-two. It's not normal, nor is it healthy."

"I'm not insane, Mercedes."

"You're getting all worried over a dream!" She yelled before sighing. "You're loosing sleep because a character from a dream is supposedly in trouble. According to a dream. Tell me that doesn't sound strange, white boy."

"I don't know what it is. I just… I feel like it's more then that." Mercedes rolled her eyes, but luckily their first customers prevented further argument.

"Hello, welcome to McKinley's, what can I get you?" Kurt tried to sound chipper as he said his spiel, looking at a blonde kid that looked a bit younger then him expectedly. He was dressed head to toe in white, which was usually a fashion catastrophe, but he pulled it off.

"Just a tea to start, please." He said with a smirk that made Kurt's heartbeat quicken for reasons he couldn't understand.

"S-sure. Coming right up." Kurt ran back to the kitchen to prepare a small pot of tea.

"Is he gay?" Kurt jumped at the sound of Mercedes voice and spun around.

Kurt placed a hand over his racing heart. "Jesus, Mercedes. Please don't do that."

"Well, is he? The kid in all white?"

"I don't know. I think he dyes his hair though." Kurt frowned for a moment before the tea pot went off. The sound of the squealing pot sent him back, back to his first dream.

"Sorry, no room." Kurt stared at the curly haired boy that looked about his age. He was dressed in the same blue blazer that the two strange boys were wearing, but his was a tail-coat. On top of his head was a rather big hat with a card sticking out that said 'In the style of 10/6' on it. He had his black-boot clad feet resting on the extremely large table that only had three occupants.

"There's plenty of room." Kurt protested. "There are only three people, and this table seats at least twenty."

The boy raised his eyebrow.

"Well aren't you rude. Whatever, I'll go somewhere else."

"No, don't go." The boy's velvet voice was suddenly close, right near his ear. Kurt spun around and was almost eye-level with the boy. "I'm sorry, please sit. I'm Blaine, but everyone just calls me the Mad Hatter. Or Hatter, I suppose. I have a lot of names actually-"

"I'll stick with Hatter, okay?" Kurt said as he sat in one of the mix-matched chairs.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" A blonde girl asked, holding out a cup. "I'm Dormouse. But people sometimes call me Brittney. I'm not really sure why."

Kurt smiled at her and reached out for the cup.

"Don't think so, Lady Face. That's mine." A Latina girl had taken the cup from Brittney's hands and was sipping from it.

"And you are?"

She raised an eyebrow, but Brittney spoke. "She's the Hare!" The girl sounded so cheerful, it was quite cute.

"You're going to call me Santana, Fairy. That name's for Britt to use, and Britt only."

"Santana, I'd kindly appreciate it if you refrained from calling our guest horrible names." Hatter said politely, giving her a very tight, but nice, smile. She was about to open her mouth to retaliate when the Hatter stood suddenly.

"New cup, new cup, move down, move down! New cup, new cup, move down!" He sang happily as everyone, aside from Kurt, moved down a seat.

"Kurt?" Someone was shaking his shoulder and snapping their fingers. "Kurt!"

"Oh! I'm sorry. I was daydreaming." He quickly reached for the pot and placed it on the tray already holding a tea cup.

"Better get your butt in gear, boy. Figgins is already ticked at you!" Mercedes called after him as he made his way to the blonde's table.

"Here you go," Kurt put on his best smile, "Have you decided what you'd like yet?"

"A date." The blonde was blunt, to say the least, and he was still smirking up at Kurt.

"Pardon?"

"I would like a date with you, Kurt Hummel."

Kurt gasped at the use of his last name. That was not on his name tag. "How did you know my name?"

"Do you not remember me, Kurt?" He asked, "You did spend oh so much time chasing me."

He stood then, placing a twenty on the table and heading for the door and leaving his tea completely untouched. He reached the door before turning back to Kurt. "If you would like to, meet me in Central Park when your shift ends. I will wait until nine tonight."

Kurt watched in shock as he left, not quite sure what to do.

Kurt walked out of McKinley's at 5:45, glad his shift was finally over so he could go home. As he biked towards his little flat Kurt kept thinking about Sam's offer, and his strange way of asking.

Wait… Sam? He never mentioned his name. Where did that even come from? Kurt shook his head. He was going insane, just like Mercedes thought. Great.

But what did he mean, chasing him? He'd never met him before! Was it supposed to be some sort of cocky pick-up line, or was it something else? When he reached his apartment Kurt locked his bike up downstairs and headed up the four flights of stairs. He argued with himself the whole way up on if he would be going or not, deciding when he reached his door that it wouldn't do too much harm to go meet the boy, right?

He'd said that he'd wait until nine, but did that mean he'd been there since noon, or what? Kurt had to assume that was so, and decided it was now or never. He got dressed in a pair of black extremely tight skinny jeans—probably the tightest pair he owned—brown ankle boots and a blue off-the shoulder sweater that complimented his eyes. He fixed his hair nicely with just a tiny bit of hairspray before heading down to Central Park.

It wasn't until he arrived that Kurt realized he had absolutely no idea where he was meeting this guy. He hadn't said, had he? Kurt replayed their conversation in his mind. No, he just said Central Park. Was he new to New York? Central Park was huge! There's no way they'd… oh. It dawned on Kurt then. He wasn't meeting the blonde here. That was the point. It was a crude joke.

"Hello Kurt Hummel." Kurt jumped a good two feet in the air, spinning around and reaching out to hit his attacker. His fist was stopped, though, by the blonde. "Hey, don't kill me now."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. You startled me." Kurt blushed.

"It's okay," The blonde said with a smile. "Shall we walk, Kurt?"

Kurt nodded and took the offered arm. "Oh… you know my name, but I don't seem to know yours."

The blonde was leading him away from the path, into the more garden-like areas that Kurt wasn't even sure you were supposed to go to. The blonde didn't speak up until they were quite far away from the crowds. He stopped Kurt and turned to face him with a bright smile.

"I'm Sam." He leaned forward so he was whispering, "But I'm sure you remember me as the White Rabbit."

He pushed Kurt backwards suddenly, causing him to loose his footing and trip. He expected to land on his ass in front of the tree, but instead he kept falling. He watched Sam's face get farther and farther away as he fell down the seemingly endless hole that he didn't recall seeing when they were walking.

Kurt braced himself for the bottom that was sure to come soon, closing his eyes tightly. But none came. He looked around to confirm that he was indeed falling. He couldn't tell which way was up and which way was down anymore, as he had lost the light of Central Park and was simply surrounded by darkness. He felt like he should be screaming, but he couldn't bring himself to. He wasn't scared, Kurt realized.

He wasn't scared because he had been here before. He had fallen before. He'd been just fine the last two times, right? No need to worry.

But those were dreams, he reminded himself. This was reality.

But then… why was he still falling? Shouldn't the bottom have come by now? Kurt looked up, but saw nothing. When he looked down this time he saw a blue and white chequered floor. The end! He felt like he should be panicking, but he was calm. He braced himself for the pain of falling, of hitting the ground and closed his eyes again.

Suddenly, he felt the hardness of the floor beneath him. There was no shock from hitting the floor; in fact it was like he didn't fall at all. He was simply sitting there. Kurt opened his eyes slowly to find himself in a room full of doors.

A room that looked all to familiar.