Senshi in Wonderland
Author: lady_of_scarlet
Betas: oroburos69& Bruteaous
Artist: oroburos69

Fandom: Sailor Moon
Rating: FRM
Warnings/Features: Angst, fluff, violence, psychological trauma, dark!fic, possible triggers, dub-con, femmeslash
Ship: Makoto/Ami (Sailor Jupiter/Sailor Mercury)
Word Count: ~20,000
Summary:When a youma encounter goes wrong, Jupiter and Mercury are sent plummeting down the rabbit hole, where all is not as it seems. Trapped and hunted, Makoto slowly becomes aware that something is seriously wrong with her friend. Makoto/Ami, Makoto POV.

A/N: Written for angstbigbang 2011. First foray into the Sailor Moon fandom. Concrit welcomed and appreciated.
Music: White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane.
Disclaimer: Wonderland related themes, etc., (some aspects of which are being borrowed and shamelessly perverted for the sake of this fic) belong to Lewis Carroll. Sailor Moon and everything related to it belongs to the wonderful Takeuchi Naoko.

...

"An invisible red thread connects those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The thread may stretch or tangle, but never break." - Ancient Chinese Proverb

Makoto dodged and rolled, but a stinging cut still opened along her side as a long claw grazed her.

Rei's Fire Soul attack sent the youma flying into a nearby tree, littering the garden with burnt cherry blossoms. Its long ears twitched with the agitation of a creature all too aware that its time was running out. With a low growl, the youma lifted itself up.

The sunset was beginning to pour across the horizon, a deep orange that mirrored Rei's attack.

It towered over them, its eyes a piercing red. Thick haunches covered in moulting off-white fur protruded from beneath a tattered brown waistcoat. A gold pocket watch hung precariously from its coat and swayed side-to-side, tick-tick-ticking so loudly that the earth seemed to tremor in chorus beneath the creature's long, sinewy paws.

It crouched, preparing to attack, and Makoto braced herself, more than ready for the fight. Fists were followed closely by kicks, but the youma brushed off her attack and sent Makoto crashing into the dirt as it turned its attention to Usagi.

In the span of a second, Makoto realised that they were all too far away to stop it, and if her earlier brush with the youma's sharp claws had been any indication, Usagi would be carved up into pieces before Makoto could even get to her feet. Makoto would not let that happen—there was no goddamn way she'd let that thing maim Usagi—but she couldn't make her body move fast enough.

Rei and Minako rushed futilely forward.

Makoto seethed as the unexpected guest of the Hikawa Shrine charged toward Usagi. She scrambled to her feet.

Usagi was frozen, shock-still and wide-eyed.

Before Makoto could even make a move, Ami dove toward the youma.

Her hand wrapped around the swinging pocket watch as the creature lunged toward Usagi. The waistcoat tore audibly as the chain ripped free, jerking both Ami and the youma to the ground with a winded, "Ooph."

A moment of silence fell around them, punctuated by the ticking clock and their own panting breaths.

The senshi stared at the youma.

The youma stared back at them.

The scent of burnt cherry blossoms and ashes lingered, sickeningly sweet.

Ami glanced down at the pocket watch in her hand, recoiled with a startled gasp, and the ticking clock fell to the ground at her knees.

Silence broken, Minako shouted, unleashing her Crescent Beam on the youma.

The earth rumbled, then shifted.

Ami lifted herself off the ground, her expression a mirror of alarm and confusion as she caught Makoto's gaze.

Something was wrong.

Tension twisted violently in Makoto's stomach as she hurried to help Ami up before the youma took interest in her.

Makoto pushed herself harder—she was going to make it, she had to.

Usagi screamed her name in warning. Makoto ignored her.

She reached out, grabbing Ami's wrist just as the ground dropped out from beneath them.

Makoto's breath caught as her balance faltered, and suddenly it was too late—there were no contingency plans, no last-ditch efforts, no fleeting hopes to grab onto. Her grip tightened on Ami instead.

Dirt spilled into the widening hole like sand in an hourglass, swiftly washing the earth out from under their feet until there was nothing they could do but fall, and watch as the rest of the world ripped away.

They careened into the abyss, falling...falling...falling...

...

Everything hurt.

Tiny, stinging rocks were embedded in her palms, down her forearms and legs.

She could already feel the bruises forming.

The dirt beneath her hands was gritty. It clung to her skin as she sat up. Makoto wiped it off on the skirt of her fuku. Pinpricks of light scattered across her vision like stars in the night sky, but they dissipated as she blinked and her eyes started to adjust.

She couldn't see anything beyond a few feet from where she sat, or make out any definable features of the place she'd landed in.

Makoto looked down at her hands, realising that it was the blood seeping through her torn gloves that made them sticky. It shone, an inky black in the darkness.

With a huff, Makoto stood, swaying slightly at the head rush, glancing around for any sign of the creature, but finding nothing. She needed some light. Luckily, she knew just what to do about that.

Glaring at the chasm of darkness above her, Makoto shouted, "Sparkling Wide Pressure!"

Lightning exploded painfully from her hands. It shot upward...and upward.

She stared as the ball of lightning ascended, illuminating a circular wall of earth and stone on its path, the light dimming in intensity the higher it rose until it seemed to disappear altogether. A moment later, sparks and chunks of dirt rained down with a thunderous crash.

It was then she saw the blue heap on the ground near the far wall.

Makoto couldn't move. Numbness coursed through her limbs, tingling and white-hot, holding her in place.

The impact of the fall had hurt like hell, but she'd fared well, all things considered. It didn't look like Ami could say the same. She lay prone on the ground, one arm bent awkwardly, the other tucked underneath her, her fuku and face marred with dirt.

Ami was still. Completely still.

The remaining sparks dimmed and died.

Makoto recalled, with a stark clarity that had never managed to fade with time, the shock of her parents' deaths, the way that woman had come to pick her up from school with a set jaw and empty eyes, and Makoto wondered now if that would be her, if she would be the one to walk up the steps of Ami's apartment and grimly inform Ami's mother that her daughter was...she was...

Forcing her legs to cooperate and her thoughts to calm, Makoto shuffled over and dropped down beside Ami. She hesitated before reaching out and placing a hand on her back.

Makoto ran her tongue across her lips, meeting with the bitter taste of blood and earth, letting it ground her. Ami shouldn't have been hurt. Makoto was supposed to protect her.

"C'mon, Mercury," she said, "hold yourself together." Ami didn't respond. "A-Ami-chan?"

Makoto shook her gently, holding her breath until her lungs started to burn.

A small, whispered, "Mako-chan?" rewarded her patience. Her name had never sounded so good.

Ami groaned, her eyes flickering open.

Makoto released the breath she'd been holding, struggling to resist the impulse to pull Ami into a crushing hug, lest she damage her further. Instead, she settled for helping her up.

Shifting into a sitting position, Ami winced.

Makoto frowned. "Are you hurt? Is anything broken?"

Ami nodded, her breathing laboured, but she was breathing, and Makoto was elated. "My shoulder. I think it's dislocated. Could you...?"

Her eyes widened. "Oh. Sure. Just, um, try not to move, okay?"

Makoto crawled over to Ami's left side, reaching for the same arm she'd grabbed so tightly as the earth was dropping out from under them. She wondered guiltily if the injury had come from, or before the fall. Makoto sat beside her, wrapping a hand around her upper arm and—

Ami pulled back and squeezed her eyes shut, her features laced with pain.

She immediately released Ami's arm. "I'm sorry," Makoto said. "I didn't—I've never had to do this for someone else before."

Ami shook her head, her eyes still closed. "It's okay. It was my fault. I didn't think it would hurt quite so much." Finally glancing up at her, Ami smiled reassuringly. With a deep breath, she continued, "Try again, I'll do my best to hold still this time."

Makoto nodded. She gently took hold of her shoulder and braced Ami against her chest. She tried to make it fast, but Ami couldn't hold back the scream as her shoulder snapped back into place.

Makoto lifted her hand away slowly as Ami clutched her arm. She probably didn't want to be anywhere near her right now, let alone have Makoto touching her. She leaned back on her heels while Ami struggled to rein her breathing into a sustainable pattern.

Something glinted in her peripheral vision, catching her eye, and Makoto looked down to see the youma's pocket watch lying in the dirt a few feet away from them. Shiny. So shiny. And with no light to reflect off of it...how odd.

Curious, she reached for it, but Ami grabbed her suddenly.

"Don't," she warned, breathless. "Don't touch it. It holds some sort of heating element. It burned when I held it, right before the ground collapsed." Ami pulled off her glove, revealing her scarlet-stained palm, barely discernible in the darkness.

Makoto stared back at the watch. "It could have something to do with us falling down...where ever we are. Maybe we can use it to get back out. We can't just leave it."

After a long pause, Ami conceded with, "Please be careful."

Makoto nodded, leaning over to grab the chain and pull it closer. She watched, entranced, as the hands of the clock spun silently counter-clockwise. It no longer ticked, as though it was moving too quickly for the sound to keep up.

Gingerly, she lifted it and dropped it into one bloodied palm, waiting to feel the heat permeate the thin fabric of her glove. Nothing. The metal casing was cold. Harmless. "Maybe it just got caught in Rei's attack," she proposed. Lacking a pocket, she looped the chain around her bow for safekeeping.

The heavy scent of earth lingered in the air. Makoto coughed.

"You're hurt, too?" Ami asked.

Makoto leaned back and followed Ami's eyes to the tear on the side of her fuku. It wasn't even bleeding anymore, but the surrounding fabric had been stained dark red.

"Just a scratch," Makoto said.

"What is this place?" Ami asked, her gaze drifting over the solid wall of rock and dirt that surrounded them.

"I don't know. A cave, maybe?" Makoto considered. "We fell pretty far."

"Can we get back up?"

She shook her head. "I doubt you'll be climbing any time soon. I can't even see any light above us. I think we're sealed in. Unless there's another way out, we could be stuck here for a while."

"Oh. Do you think the others are okay?"

She didn't know. The youma had been unexpectedly fierce. They could be hurt, they could be—no. "Of course. Rei and Minako won't let one little youma stand in their way. And Usagi's tougher than she looks. They've probably already gotten rid of it by now." Makoto offered a small smile, which she hoped Ami would find reassuring.

Ami returned Makoto's smile after a moment. "Yes, you're probably right."

Something scurried past them, and Makoto raised an eyebrow. "Was that a...?"

Ami froze, then nodded, a spark of hope in her eyes. "It had to get in here somehow. Maybe there is a way out."

Makoto was about to point out that the mouse may well have fallen in with them, but she didn't want to be responsible for dimming that little spark of hope. "Let's look around," Makoto suggested, standing and brushing the dirt from her fuku.

The pain from the fall had dulled, replaced with a rush of energy. She reached out to help Ami up, the thin cuts across her palms barely registering anymore as endorphins and relief pumped through her veins. They were both alive, and more or less okay. Everything would be fine.

Ami regained her mobility and they walked around the small chamber, finding more dirt, more rocks, and the occasional tree root sticking out of the wall. Just as Makoto was considering the feasibility of crafting a rope of some sort from the roots, and debating exactly what good it would do without a grapple and an actual destination, Ami stopped abruptly and grabbed Makoto's arm.

"Look," she said, pointing at the ground.

Makoto looked. There was dirt. Another rock. Was that...—no, still dirt. She really didn't want to upset Ami, but—

"There, don't you see it?"

She shifted, following Ami's direction carefully, and there it was. A paper-thin strip of light was coming from beneath what appeared to be a well-concealed door built into the wall itself.

So there had been light to reflect off the pocket watch. This was promising. Makoto was feeling a lot less disconcerted by the watch now. The longer she looked at the door, the clearer it became, until she wasn't sure how she'd managed to miss it in the first place. What she initially brushed off as another rock, on closer inspection seemed to be a door handle. She could have sworn this door hadn't been there earlier.

"This may not be a cave, after all," Ami said.

Makoto stepped back and looked up. The oval door loomed in front of them, ornate designs carved carefully into the brown stone. It was suspicious, to be sure, but it was also all they had to go on right now.

"Looks like our only option," Makoto noted.

Ami's voice was hesitant as she said, "Perhaps it's an exit? That would be rather convenient."

"Could be an entrance."

"An entrance to what?"

Makoto shrugged.

Ami clicked on her visor, pulled out her computer, and stared intently at the door.

Makoto rocked back and forth on her heels. Sweat beaded on her skin, stinging as it slid across the tiny scratches along her collarbone. The air was thick and heavy in her lungs. Her desire to get out of this hole was rapidly reaching its peak. Makoto's fingers itched to open the door and find out what was on the other side.

Ami frowned after a moment. "I'm not getting a clear reading. The screen keeps flickering. It must have broken when we landed." She retracted her visor and pocketed her computer. Looking down at her wrist, Ami added, "My communicator appears to have incurred impact-related damage, as well. Yours?"

Makoto checked, a little embarrassed that it hadn't occurred to her sooner. A cloud of gray static filled the small screen, cut intermittently with thin white and black lines. "Same. We'll just have to risk it."

Oh, how she wanted to risk it.

They needed to get out. Right now. She couldn't wait any longer.

Ami seemed to consider her proposal in great detail. "I suppose."

Finally. Makoto stepped forward to wrench open the door, wrapping her hands tightly around the thick iron handle. The door dragged loudly across the dirt floor, catching on rocks and debris as she put all of her weight into pulling it open.

Beyond the door was a hall. Black and white checkered tiles stretched into the darkness, bracketed by eerily luminescent granite walls, polished to a shine.

They exchanged a concerned glance.

Makoto took the first step forward, trying her best to exude an air of confidence and put Ami at ease. When the floor didn't fall out from under her, she motioned Ami forward.

The quiet sounds of breathing tangled with the rhythmic click of heels against the tile as they worked their way down the hall.

...