Okay, rather intense chapter. May I just reassert that this story is Ciel/Sebastian, and thus SLASH and SHOTA? Good. Now that that's out of the way...

IX. Alice in Wonderland

It had all started with a book.

Or rather, with a fever. One miserable morning, Ciel found himself bed-ridden with illness, forbidden from getting up by Sebastian to avoid agitating his condition. Well, the young Earl had not been happy and so had spent the majority of his morning making Sebastian feel approximately as miserable as he did. In an effort to entertain the boy and earn thus earn himself some peace, Sebastian decided to read Ciel a story: Alice in Wonderland.

Ciel gave a weak cry of protest when Sebastian stretched out beside him on the bed, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Ciel was in no place to argue, however, and he let his eyelids flicker closed as Sebastian began to read aloud. As the smooth, dark cadence of Sebastian's voice filled the sick room, Ciel remained unresponsive, as though sleeping, but he was secretly absorbing every word that flowed forth from the demon's mouth. It must have been evening when Sebastian recited the last words, removed himself from the bed, bowed, and left the room. As Sebastian was getting up, Ciel had felt the strangest urge to cling to the butler's arm, forcing him to stay. However, Ciel was too tired to do anything of the sort, and besides, it was a ridiculous notion.

When Ciel drifted off to sleep, his mind was racked with fevered dreams: falling through an abyss with no one to catch him, thrashing and gagging as he drowned in a bitter salt-water pool, choking on tea laced with cyanide, walking up to a guillotine with hands tied behind his back...

OoO

The next day, Ciel's fever broke. Life in the Phantomhive manor was business as usual, but for Ciel everything was different. He felt as though the fever had been a wildfire that blazed him, leaving his body and brain burnt in some places, chilled in others, and irrevocably changed throughout. Days passed, and he said very little, but there was a greater level of intensity brewing in his oceanic eye; a fresh look of lucidity.

Something in Ciel Phantomhive had changed.

Naturally, Sebastian took notice. Ciel's silence was an indication, but mostly he could just see that his young lord had gone through some sort of transformation; a new aura seemed to crackle around the boy like lightening. Sebastian, though immensely talented, was not a mind reader, and could only guess at what this meant. What Sebastian did know was that Ciel had taken to watching him. The butler could feel that electric blue gaze aimed at him, hard and unrelenting as the barrel of a gun.

It was like electricity in the air before a thunderstorm—Sebastian could sense that something was on the verge of happening; he just had to be patient.

The storm clouds burst one morning when Sebastian went to wake Ciel up, only to find his young lord fully conscious in bed. There was an odd tension radiating from the boy's body, and a feral-animal heat burned in his eyes. The contract mark was shamelessly exposed, and it seemed to pulse upon Ciel's iris like a misplaced heart. Not a word was said, however, as Sebastian strode around the bed and pulled back the curtains.

"For today's breakfast, I've prepared—"

Sebastian never got to finish his statement, for as he turned to face the bed, Ciel simply pounced him. Bare, twig-like legs clamped around Sebastian's waist, securing Ciel in place. Filed nails dug into the shoulders of his tailcoat, and Sebastian felt a demanding pair of lips smash into his own. Low growls and sharp keens issued from Ciel's throat as Sebastian responded in kind.

Who was this lithe little beast that writhed like a live flame in Sebastian's arms? This fervid creature of hunger and passion was surely not the Ciel Phantomhive whom Sebastian had known. No, not hardly. Ciel had found his way down the rabbit hole, and now he'd emerged as something very different...and infinitely more glorious.

OoO

Oh, God, yes. No, not God, cause God's not here...never was...but damn, more, yes.

Ciel's thoughts were a mad jumble as Sebastian's un-gloved hands roamed over his squirming body. This was what he wanted, what he'd chosen. It was that book that did it; it was meant for children, Sebastian had said, but Ciel begged to differ. What was the damned thing about, really? A doe-eyed, child falling from grace and stumbling through a new world as her perfect innocence cracked and crumbled away, piece by piece, like a fractured egg shell.

Innocence, Ciel knew, was highly overrated. It was an inconvenience, a shackle, a blindfold. He was glad to have rid himself of the nuisance year's ago. But he hadn't, really. Ciel saw that now. His eyes had been opened, and now he was ready to complete his transformation. When this last, nagging bit of innocence was gone, he would be free.

Yes, yes, take it away from me. Take my pure-white roses and paint them damnation-red. Hurry, do it now!

Ciel practically snarled against Sebastian's bare chest. He was not a patient person. He threw his hips up and let them slam back down on the bed covers. The hitch in Sebastian's breath that followed was a nice result, but Ciel wanted so much more. He was on the edge, he could feel it, and he wanted so, so, sobadly to tip over, to fall screaming into oblivion.

But Sebastian tore himself away, and Ciel was fully ready to make his servant pay for the indiscretion—Off with his head!—when...

Oh, Oh! That's better. Yes, Eat Me, then Drink Me, in that order...More, more, more; A pathetic little Alice to a Blood-Red King. Always more, Until...until—

"AaaouAAA! Sebas-TIAN!"

Rage, pain, anguish, joy, relief, and pleasure. It is release, pure and simple. Ciel has never felt more like a pious-man, freeing himself through atonement. Except this is not atonement—it's the exact opposite. Ciel doesn't care. He is empty now, in the most marvelous way. Ciel has become something greater, that he knows, a creature somewhere between human and demon. He is damned.