Batman: Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat (White Rabbit)

This chapter has previously been posted elsewhere.

If you're interested in the background context behind this story, you can use this link. I can't promise you won't get lost on the way, but it's about the journey, not the destination. Getting lost down this rabbit hole may not be the worst thing in the world...

A flash of black and white hit.

Belatedly, Batman threw up his left elbow in front of his own eyes and spun backward, escaping out of range from the next-closest attacker. He knew there was an opening at his seven-o’clock with another man closing in from his left, but he stepped back the other way, blindly allowing himself to drop below a swinging hook from one of the others.

Damnit, he inwardly cursed. He needed to react quicker than that. Now more than ever, he couldn’t afford to get sloppy, or else his next mistake could be his last.

Gritting his teeth as he pulled back up, he slowly opened his eyes to a thin squint, verifying that White Rabbit was not in his immediate view. Batman intuitively knew that she had hidden herself again to have another opportunity to jump out at him in surprise again, but he dared not peek around himself for her. He needed to better anticipate her appearance, not letting himself get caught up in the rhythm of battle as he normally did.

Feeling another man’s feet hitting the floor behind him, he ducked once more, this time backstepping below a failed tackle attempt. His would-be tackler flopped onto the floor face-first, slow to recover. While his hopes were that such a blow would automatically dispel the effects of the hypnosis like unconsciousness had done to the pedestrians outside, he could not afford to experiment. Regretfully, Batman lunged forward and clubbed the man in the back of the head as he tried to rise, officially putting him out of the fight.

He faded back once more, putting some space between himself and two incoming fighters. He managed to keep his balance as his left calf made contact with the track of a parked treadmill. Batman stepped up to stand with parted feet on either rail of the machine, using his added height to quickly confirm that White Rabbit was once again not in front of him. He assumed that she had to be on his right, raising his corresponding arm to block out his peripheral vision on that side.

Batman grimaced, plotting out his next move. He knew it was possible for him to fight with his eyes closed. He never did it outside of his training room in the Batcave, but he’d never seriously tested it in the field. His honest assessment was that he could probably do it now, but fighting against civilians who had been unfortunate enough to get caught up in this mess? He couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t cause any serious injuries, and that was a risk he was not prepared to take.

His rightmost newest attacker dove for his knee. Faster than his opponent could track, Batman placed both hands on the handrails and lifted both legs up as if he was performing a dip at one of the stations nearby. The man fell onto the track beneath him, helpless to prevent him from pinning him down with a foot placed to the back of his head while Batman used his other foot to push the other man away.

Putting one hand behind himself, Batman switched the track of the machine on and rapidly pressed the incline button. The machine responded slowly, allowing another man from nearby to leap onto the track as it was rising to get at him. Batman kicked this man back too, but he grabbed both of the handrails himself, managing to stay on the treadmill.

Tucking his chin and keeping his gaze angled down to his left, Batman felt the incline hit its imposed peak and let go of the handrails. He dropped with both feet planted against the shoulders of the man hanging on, making him flop back to the floor and bang his head against the mat.

Batman carefully landed with his feet set outside of his head, bringing his inside knee down to thump him on the chest. The man had no reaction, indicating he was also out of commission. Turning around, he quickly clasped the back of head he had just pinned to the treadmill and banged his face back into the track.

Three more men out, Batman sensed another person approaching from behind. Not wanting to risk turning to find White Rabbit there, Batman dragged himself up by the newly-incapacitated man’s shoulders and rolled his way up the track to come out through the gap below the dashboard.

Landing behind the treadmill track, Batman took a moment to reorient himself. He’d taken out ten men at this point, meaning that- assuming his count was correct- there were only six left in the gym room.

Where was White Rabbit? If she had been on this side of him before, she must have gone back to the other side. Or maybe she had gone upstairs. Or maybe she-

No time to speculate, Batman rolled out to his right as a fresh attacker came around the machine. He swung himself behind him by the man’s left knee, coming up to wrap his hands around his neck from the sides. Acting quickly, Batman whipped him over his own left foot, making him hit the railing on the inclined treadmill on the edge. The man struck his temple on the plastic frame, making him slump into the floor unmoving when Batman let him go.

Another man down, Batman set himself and reached up to pull back up to the top of the inclined treadmill again, perched atop the dashboard. Obviously, the dashboard was not built to support his weight the way the machine was standing, almost immediately crunching beneath his feet. He risked another quick scan from his even higher position this time, once again not finding White Rabbit in his view but this time confirming his mental count of five remaining fighters.

The treadmill broke, the track stopping as the dashboard collapsed. Batman, fortunately, was ready for its failure, already in a forward-leap to smash his elbow into the cheek of his next would-be fighter. He shut down, but was still standing on wobbly legs as the vigilante came up behind him with an arm covering his throat. Not giving him a chance to recover, Batman ripped his chin back overhead, allowing the man to complete three-quarters of a backflip and land on his front, finally going to sleep.

Blocking out the lower half of his vision with the same arm, Batman swirled back toward the gym entrance, taking one last wide angle look for White Rabbit. He still saw no sign of her. There was nowhere to hide in the main room with so much open space. Had she gone back upstairs? Was she hiding in the bathrooms?

Trusting that he hadn’t missed anything, Batman fully squared up to the final four assailants. These four bunched together, though it seemed to be more of a coincidence than an active plan of attack. It had been fairly unnatural to fight opponents like these tonight, people who were all but silent in combat… but then again, it had happened multiple times tonight, so perhaps he should have gotten used to it.

The nearest man tried to dive for his legs, allowing Batman to roll over his back with his shoulder and pass the next man in order. The third man fell to his knees after Batman chopped him in the throat, unable to respond before he followed up with a heel-lift into the chin behind himself.

The fourth man leapt up over the fallen third, but his range was off, letting Batman catch and redirect his momentum to throw him into the other two men on the other side. The three bodies fell in a heap, though the man used as a projectile almost immediately got back to his feet to resume fighting. Winding up his best haymaker, the man lunged forward.

Far too slow, he could not track Batman as he spun around the wayward attempt. Once again, he wrapped his arms around the head of his hypnotized opponent, quickly applying a blood **** as the other two men slowly found their feet. He just managed to finish off this man as they re-acquired their target, gently depositing him on the mat below as they charged, each man raising their furthest arms to try to trap him between them.

Batman was more than willing to let them, surging forward at the last moment with a cross arm guard to split them out. Each man was knocked off balance, the attacker on the left tripping over the one he had previously chopped in the throat. Batman pounced on him, forcibly pressing his cheek into the mat before following up with a well-placed palm strike to the carotid. He let go of the man as he failed to take in gasps, knowing the artery would pop back out a few seconds after he lost consciousness.

When the final man turned on him, Batman took note of his blank, absent expression. No, he would never get used to this kind of opponent. Whenever he found himself face-to-face with the last man standing, he always felt some sense of urgency, some sense of fear, some sense of desperation. He hated to imagine what it would be like to suffer their same fate.

Acting quickly, lunged forward and clasped the man’s wrist as he extended it in some vague, unpracticed attack. Batman dragged him forward a few steps, once again winding up behind his opponent to cinch in a blood ****. Within seconds, the man fell limp, allowing Batman to set him down on his side on the floor.

Wary of another trap from White Rabbit, Batman took several circular steps around the final men he had defeated, surveying the scene. He regretted that several of these men would have some minor injuries that could last a few weeks, but most of them had gone down without any serious wounds. The one he’d pinned to the inclined treadmill was actually still pressed up against the track, but his full body weight had prevented the track from moving at its snail’s pace. Either that, or the destruction of the dashboard had automatically shut it down.

He still found no sign of White Rabbit, something he was both relieved and perturbed to discover. Had she quietly slipped out of the venue while he’d been distracted? She hadn’t seemed like the type to just cut and run, especially when she had gained the upper hand earlier.

Continuing to scan his surroundings, Batman stepped backwards into the lobby, putting himself in the best position to see the entire layout of the gym. He strongly suspected that Jaina- or her sister- was still somewhere in the gym, having just fallen back to cover to observe him fight up close because she enjoyed watching people fight over her. She likely figured herself some grand prize for whichever champion emerged from the fighters she’d set up in her gym… with a certain preference to have him be said champion if he ran through her gauntlet.

And she had to have known he would, even with his momentary affliction from her tail. A cursory glance at the second-floor balcony didn’t reveal her. He hadn’t seen how much space was up above when entering. Was she back up there? The bathrooms did not seem like such an effective hiding spot. Was there somewhere else she could be watching/

Batman found his answer as his eyes found White Rabbit standing behind a large tinted-glass window separating the main gym room from the yoga studio. She was staring at him with her wrists crossed over her forehead, leaning against the glass to gaze at him with fluttering eyes, though the tinted glass made it difficult to actually tell if her mouth was moving.

Alert to any sudden changes, Batman relaxed his posture. His suspicions had been proven correct; White Rabbit had neither fled nor set him up to catch him looking at her tail. She wanted him to approach, wanted him to come to her. Whether she had some other kind of trap in waiting or really had confidence that she could best him was yet to be seen, but it was clear to him that she enjoyed making him chase her.

White Rabbit pressed her face up against the window and softly kissed the pane. She retracted after a second, leaving behind a lip print smudge mixed with saliva. Her expression faded into shadow as she sashayed back deeper into the yoga room, but he could have sworn she was smirking at him. Batman found that the studio held not just White Rabbit, but nine other heat signatures within. These people must have been left behind in the studio and unable to hear her earlier directive to attack him. He doubted that these people would be any different than those he’d encountered in the fitness room. Likely, she had hypnotized them and ordered them to remain in this studio until she came back for them.

Considering, Batman turned off his detective vision, trying to attune his eyes with his intentions. There was no guarantee that his detective vision would be of any help in mitigating the effects of her tail, so he did not want to enter the room relying on it. He needed to be able to avert his eyes at a moment’s notice. This would be a rare occasion that a smoke pellet would not help him, as he did not want her tail to come out of nowhere to surprise him. His best tactic would be working in speed, whittling down her allies until she had no other help to rely on.

Just need her to let me, he thought. His assumption was that she would, but with her whimsical attitude, she could change her mind at any moment.