On the Bright Side
A/N: Yeah, so. I sat through All of Alice in one desperate late-night go and couldn't sleep afterwards. A drabble was necessary. This is intended to take place during the fight on the overhang while Hatter and Charlie are breaking Alice out of the casino after her run in with Dee and Dum. ..obviously. Happy reading!
Suits. Again. Alice is getting sick to death of suits.
She's sick of it all. Being chased, being tortured, constant attempts on her life, god-forsaken monsters in god-forsaken forests, all the falling she seems to do and every new horrible twist and turn of this detestable palace - Alice is completely, categorically over every single thing about this place. She had never been in a real fight before Wonderland. Now she throws a punch every twenty minutes, it seems.
Hatter flies into action first. He's instinctive like that. She's never known anyone more calculating than this man, but when the chips are down - forgive the expression - he doesn't hesitate. Strange, when she thinks about it.
Alice is automatically in fighting stance, but it's not fast enough. Before she can act, her personal white knight has somehow gotten between her and the opponent.
"Stay back, Alice!" he cautions boldly.
It's not long before he's flat on his back.
Alice bends into a very slight crouch, pulls back and connects her fist with her assailant's face. Something in the crack of his jaw is almost satisfying. The thing of it is, Alice is tired. She is tired, frightened, confused and aggravated, and part of her thinks, fine. Fine, Wonderland. You insist on fucking with me? Fine. We can dance. And she hits him so hard she's sure something breaks.
It's a good thing there are only two suits. Alice isn't confident they could handle much more. They fight well together, she and her Hatter. Her dubious guide. There is a strange similarity in the way they both give up everything they are when the fists start flying. Alice has never been one to hold anything back, and they're alike in that way. All pretense, all caution and civility are cast aside while they fight tooth and nail, leaving nothing behind, terrifying in their completion and certitude. They are conviction made flesh.
They spin around each other on that tiny overhang like dancers trapped by unwelcome partners. A strange crack means bone has connected with cement, and Alice glances over through a curtain of sweat soaked hair. Hatter puffs. He twists and breaks his opponent's nose. His eyes are dark and flashing with temerity. There is something raw and primal in this Hatter - the face of his madness, maybe - planted somewhere between terrible and magnetic. Alice can't tell which. It is something familiar. It is a wildness she has fought to bury all her life, and it echoes through them both.
There is a moment, only a flash of a thing, where Alice wants very much to touch him.
Hatter flips his hat through the air, catches it, pauses and hits the suit once more. Showboating, Alice thinks. Overconfident and flashy and she will show him how it's done. With a twist of her shoulders and a delicate somersault, she throws her assailant brutally to the ground. He does not stir again. She glances to the Hatter, hair in her eyes, a smirk on the lips, and his eyebrows tilt ever so slightly skyward. In appreciation, she thinks. He's mad and she's angry. It's a level playing field.
"Bow to the hand of Dioclese!" Charlie proclaims, belatedly finishing the fight.
Well, whatever.
"What now?" Alice pants. The Hatter points, and inwardly, she groans.
Flamingos. Of course, it had to be flamingos.
There is an argument. She resists; she is constantly resisting. There is not a moment where Alice is not digging her heels in to the plans and designs of others. But there is no time now, and Hatter pores his eyes into her with a desperation, a need for her to just say yes. Just once. Just say yes.
"Look at me," he begs. "I wouldn't let you do it if I didn't think you'd be okay."
She hesitates. But he is so earnest, and Alice relents. For the first time, she relents.
With trembling hands, she pulls herself onto the back of the horrible machine and clings tight. She screws her eyes shut and braces herself, and they leap away from the landing in a hail of bullets. It is a leap of faith - the first one Alice has ever taken. The wind is louder than she whipping of her hair burns like fine sand. She is terrified, but he is steady. Steady, warm, and impossibly bold, and despite her best efforts, some tiny, niggling part of her trusts him to keep them alive. Against her better instincts, Alice presses herself against his back. She knots her fists around his torso. He is something else, the Hatter.
She hates this world, but, she thinks, but... he might be the best part of it.