Catherine did not turn around. She did not look over her shoulder. She did not peek at whatever was behind her. She merely stood facing her chamber door and gripped the handle. Half of her was demanding that Raven or the White Queen's messenger opened the door to let her out.

The other half, was far too frightened to turn and look. If she looked and saw what she thought was behind her, she would surely crumble to the messenger's deal. And the Queen of Hearts never caved to the likes of common folk trickery.

But Catherine ... with her heart closer to her chest than it had been in years, she was ready to beg for her daydream to become a reality.

"So," the voice said, strained and defeated. "You became queen. I guess you always were going to be anyway. It was ... the best option for you."

Her grip around the handle curled and warbled with anger. Her whole body began to shake, and her teeth ground into each other. She weld her eyes shut, and forced herself to spin around.

"YOU IDIOT!" she cried. "WHY IS IT THAT YOU COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND THAT ALL I WANTED WAS TO BE WITH YOU?! YOU ALWAYS WENT TO SAVE A STUPID REPUTATION I COULDN'T HAVE CARED LESS ABOUT! ALL I WANTED WAS TO GO AND LIVE IN CHESS WITH YOU! AND IF YOU HAD JUST WAITED FOR ME TO GET BACK THROUGH THE MAZE WE WOULD BE TOGETHER INSTEAD OF ME BEING STUCK HERE!"

Her fists shook at her sides, nails digging into her palms. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. Not for so much as a second. "You always decided what was best for me without even consulting me for my thoughts! You tried to make every decision for me, and couldn't let me decide a thing for myself! You should have left me and gone to Chess like you were supposed to!"

With every word, Catherine crumbled a little more. It must have been that her heart was so close to her now. She'd never done anything like this before. Not since the sisters of the Treacle Well took her heart from her in the first place.

Catherine heard two footstep, one closer to her than the other. Her mind and body were overtaken by fear. She lunged for the thing nearest to her and threw towards what had spoken to her. Of course, it was the figurine of a heart on her bureau. She reached for more objects to hurl.

"Catherine!" the voice protested. "CATH!"

She didn't listen. She kept throwing anything and everything she could grab. She kept tossing things at him until it got down to the pillows on her bed.

"GET OUT!" she demanded. "LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" In truth, Catherine didn't exactly know just what she was saying. She only wanted things to go back to the way they were. She just couldn't decide what she wanted to go back to. Her life this morning, or her life five years ago.

She ran out of projectiles, so she went back to the door and tried the handle again. When she found it still locked, she screamed, "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT, YOU TREACHEROUS BRAT!!!"

She wrestled with the handle for her escape, though her orders didn't seem to get her anywhere. After fighting her depression for so long, in so many different ways, she finally crumbled. Her head fell against the door and another stray tear slipped from her eye. She pounded on the door and mumbled to herself.

"Cath," the voice said, so close behind her. She dared not look. Not if this was some sort of black magic from the messenger. "Catherine, I'm so sorry."

Gentle hands took her by her shoulders. She shrugged them off and pushed the person off herself. "Go away," she said weakly.

"No," he told her. He held her in a warm embrace. Warmer than anything she'd ever felt in the last five years. "I'll never leave you. Never again." He held her tight and pressed her head to his chest.

Surprisingly, Catherine didn't break down into a puddle of her own tears. Her eyes dried after the shock had died. Once the surprise was gone, she felt ... empty. She was now used to the situation and not stressed anymore.

Once she was calm again, she grew a tad suspicious ... and a little aggravated. If he'd been alive, how long had he been alive? How long had he been here, with the messenger?

She got her bearings against the person holding her and lightly pushed them away. Mind you, her eyes were still fiercely shut. Slowly, as she got her personal space back, she opened her eyes, and saw a face she never believed she'd ever see again.

Her eyes were dry, and her expression blank. But he was so immensely glad to see her. His eyes brimmed with tears and joy. His formally neat hair was tousled and messy. Streaks of dirt covered his face and neck. It make him look like he'd just popped straight out of the grave Catherine and Raven dug for him.

Jest smiled at her and cupped her cheek. "I'll never leave you again. I swear."

The more Catherine looked at him, the more closely she saw a long, prominent scar around his neck. She knew it was from when his head was separated from his body. The stark memory jogged her familiar anger and desire to decapitate.

She knew she looked emotionless. Her anger had left, leaving her in a void of feeling. For the first time in years, she didn't exactly know what to feel. Should she be angry that Jest hadn't come back sooner? Should she hate the messenger for not bringing him here sooner?

"You died," she said, to Jest and herself. "You were killed, five years ago." She looked up at him, almost glaring. "How are you here?" Her tone had been so unkind. Her voice sharp and cruel, just as it had been for the past five years.

Not even Jest could truly change her. How ironic. The man she gave up her heart to avenge could not save her from her vendetta.

At her voice, Jest was slightly alarmed. "I know," he acknowledged. "I know what happened to me. But, I'm here now. And we can be together. We can go to Chess and you can have your bakery there. I'm sure the White Queen won't be bothered by the short delay."

She eyed him, suspicious. "Short delay?" she questioned. Jest did not falter. A bit more angrily, she huffed, "I'd hardly call half a decade a short delay."

His eyes bulged out of his head. "Half- Half a decade?" he practically wheezed. "I've been gone for ... five years?"

His joy died, and unlike she would have done when she had her heart in her chest, Catherine did not feel a need to comfort him. She didn't have a compulsion to ease his pain and assure him that she loved him no matter what.

Because she couldn't tell if she loved him. Her body lacked all emotions except hatred and shock. After all this time, avenging his death and unleashing justice upon the people who wronged her and her love, she couldn't decide whether or not she even had a love anymore.

Jest's tears of joy had turned to tears of regret and loss. His hands fell to her shoulders and he gripped them tightly. Rather than hold him, and give him some affection that he looked as though he desperately needed, she was tempted to brush his hands off her.

"Cath," he whimpered. "I'm so sorry. I thought- I thought I'd only been gone for a few days. Maybe a couple of weeks. I had no idea that I'd been gone for ... so long."

His words clicked in her head, and she did force his hands off her. She glared at him, her rage bubbling under her skin. "You thought that I married the king after you being dead for a few days?" she snarled. When he didn't meet her eyes, she knew she was right. Her anger fueled her, and she got up from the ground. She moved away from Jest and crossed her arms over her chest.

Her nails curled into her arms, nearly puncturing her skin. Jest was still in a ball against the door. As he watched her, slightly horrified and frightened, she was back to her sense of superiority from being royalty.

It was true that Catherine married the King of Hearts shortly after Jest's death. But it had been to avenge his death and kill Peter Peter. Not out of and actual desire to be with that pudgy old man. "You're even more spineless than I remember," Catherine spat.

Water ran down his face and smeared the dirt across his face even more. "Spineless?" he whispered. He attempted to stand on his own, though his legs seemed weak.

"Yes," Catherine agreed. "You were never strong enough to stand up to the King for what you wanted until you knew I would go anywhere with you. Even then, you were still a coward." She paused, feeling as though this was another court session she was to judge. "You should have left me at the ball and gone back to Chess with Hatta and his lot."

By now, Jest was on his feet while leaning against the door. His eyes were pools that would have pulled at the old Catherine to the point of complete submission. But the old Catherine wasn't here anymore. Why?

Because she was dead.

The Queen of Hearts held no sympathy for anyone. Her only feelings were rage and mild shock. Her brutality was known across all of Wonderland. She was a monarch feared by her own executioner. No one would defy her or attempt to curb her anger. She was a force stronger than gravity or momentum.

She would not relent or bend to mere pollywog eyes. Not even to those owned by the man she used to love. Emphasis on used to.

He gasped for air and held his chest. Catherine watched with cold eyes and he wheezed and struggled to breathe. "What has happened, Cath? What happened to you?"

"I became a queen," she answered. "And I have no need for you anymore."

His face was pale as the moon, his breath strained and full of despair. He couldn't stop watching Catherine with regret. With self-loathing and frustration. "What changed you?" he begged. Before she could tell him something possible edgy, his gaze fell to her chest.

His eyes went wide as they landed on her large scar. "Where did you get that?" He took three shaky steps towards her, and she took one backwards. Hurt at her reaction, he demanded to know, "What did that to you?"

Her glare hardened, but he did not bend to it. Not seeing any reason to lie, she told him the truth. "After you died, Peter Peter escaped. So, I made a deal with the sisters of the Treacle Well. The resilient heart of a queen, for Peter Peter's head."

Once he registered what she'd said, Jest was horrified beyond words. His breath left his lungs in fear. His eyes were wide with terror and disbelief. "You ... you killed him?"

"What do you think," she said. "My heart was only causing me agony, and Peter Peter had to pay for his crimes. It was a trade that benefited both parties."

He propped himself up against the wall. "Your heart is with the sisters?"

Catherine sighed, "It was. But not anymore."

Fearful and worried, he asked, "Where is it now?"

She pursed her lips and wondered whether Jest was too annoying to be kept alive. Spades, what had she loved him for? She pondered the idea that it had been merely physical attraction with a hint of desire to escape the King's courtship. But looking at him now, no amount of physical appeal could cover how obviously pathetic and underwhelming he was.

What had she loved him for five years ago?

She relented her grip on her arms and glanced at her nails. There was no blood on the edges, which was probably a product of how often she tried to do it. Scarred skin growing resistance to punctures and all.

"My heart is in the hands of the messenger who brought you here," she revealed. "Do you happen to know who he is?"

He tried to concentrate. "No. I have no idea. He brought me back, then knocked me out. I woke up here, as he was locking me in this room."

She scoffed, "Even now, you're practically useless." Tired of this, she moved past Jest and his lingering hand that reached out to her. She pounded on the door once and shouted, "Raven, I order you to open this door by any means necessary!"

The second after her order, she stepped back from the door. Thankfully, she'd stepped back in time, and an ax blade broke through the door. That's what she liked about Raven. He was quick to answer the needs of the queen, and did not hesitate when it came to his instincts.

Maybe Catherine should have fallen for him rather than Jest.