The Huntsman In London {Sequel to Mad and In Love}

Your Memories Will Go On

Falling back into unconsciousness was almost like falling from the heavens, he was completely unprepared to come back so soon. Like a shooting star, his return was as fiery as ever with a fraction of the grace and he crash landed into the top of a bottled ship leaving a shattered crater at the top. 

Tumbling onto the deck of the frigate, the raven head found himself atop the debris of thoroughly destroyed barrels that miraculously cushioned his descent. It never gets any easier, does it? 

Getting up and dusting bits of wood off his shoulders, Alan found a familiar face rushing to him. 

"Thank God you've made it! If I'm to sink, I should take someone else down with me at least." The Mock Turtle gave a saddened smile as he approached the lad. 

"Sink-?" Before Alan could inquire further, he could hear the rest of the glass start to fracture from his crash entrance. 

Off the port bow he could see the violent thrashing of blood thirsty sharks the size of whales bumping and tossing the bottle. Even these memories were falling apart at the seams, as the ship increasingly fell into disrepair with every jostle of the bottle. 

"Is there no hope for her, admiral?!" Alan yelled above the chaos. 

"Infinite of hope lad, only none for us! Damn bastards want the ship!" Mock Turtle spat bitterly, attempting to tie down any loose cargo on the top deck. 

Without much thought, Alan joined in, grabbing a handful of rope to secure crates just to his left, "I'd have thought you were more their taste!" He shot back. 

"Me? Absurd, why we may as well be relatives!" The Turtle scoffed though the rope in his mouth. 

"With all due respect, you are related to soup, sir!" Alan replied, as he did the anxiety-inducing hiss of water leaking into the bottle sent his eyes to the port side again. 

"I've a brilliant solution! Set course for Carpenter's show! Better than this horror, what we don't take seriously can't harm us!" Mock Turtle suggested, heading to the helm at the assumption Alan would agree to such a conclusion. 

"A bit late to chart the route, Admiral! She's going down, brace for impact!!" Alan screamed as he held on to the taffrail.

The bottle cracked completely open and the decorative nonfunctional frigate fell into icy arctic waters instantly sinking into depths of the sea...

The next thing he knew, Alan was laying in the soft sand of the sea floor, suddenly feeling oddly warm as if embraced by an all encompassing light...

"(Y/n)...?" 

No, it was just the water as his body got used to being submerged. His hair floated around him underwater but he was able to breath as easily as if he was on the surface. Wonderland: Nothing ever made sense...