Fic: But a Torment to Himself
Title: But a Torment to Himself
Fandom: Count Cain/Godchild
Pairing: One sided Jezebel/Cain
Rating: R
Warnings: Incest, violence, attempted rape, and possibly disturbing imagery. This isn't a nice story.
Word Count: ~2500 words
A/N: Written for springkink
The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves. -William Penn
For such a hunted man, Jezebel had often noted, Cain was remarkably incautious. The security at the Hargreaves mansion was nothing spectacular, the sort any noble might have had, and Cain frequently went on night outings, often without even the eternally faithful Riff accompanying him.
Jezebel wondered if it was a challenge, if Cain was daring Delilah and his father to make a move. Or maybe he was merely overconfident. Either way, it suited Jezebel's purposes just fine. It made his darling brother much easier to follow. Almost too easy. It would be so effortless to sneak into Cain's bedroom in the dead of night, or perhaps Jezebel could snatch him off of the street and hold him down tightly while he squirmed and fought.
But... no. Jezebel was following his father's orders and was not to touch, only look. He was to see, but not be seen.
Today was apparently a happy family outing. Skipping ahead was precious little Merryweather, a cheerful smile on her sweet angelic face. Riff, ever present hound that he was, smiled down at his master, looking like Cain was the only human being in the whole damn world. And standing between them, safe in the middle, was Cain. Such a merry little group. Jezebel thought that he might be sick.
"Cain, hurry up!" Merry had turned, was beckoning.
"Don't get too far ahead!" Cain admonished her. Jezebel smiled. Yes, it would be a terrible tragedy if poor Merryweather were to get lost. Jezebel's fingers twitched as he imagined wrapping them around her sweet neck and bashing her brains out as her beloved big brother watched. He took a deep breath. The thought was too tempting, and he had to keep his mind on his mission.
As the group passed the shadow that Jezebel was hiding, Riff turned his head, slight suspicion in his eyes. Jezebel cursed internally. Yes, he called the man a dog, but was he truly a damn bloodhound? Luckily, an impatient "Riff!" from Cain distracted the man, and he moved away. Jezebel scoffed. It was ridiculous, the way a single word from his master defined Riff's entire world. It was revolting how Riff doted on Cain, acting as if ensuring Cain's happiness was the meaning of life. The two of them thought that they had true, unconditional love. They would learn.
Cain and the rest of them walked on, with Jezebel following slightly behind. They stopped at a bright, spacious park. Merryweather headed straight for the flower gardens, while Cain and Riff sat down on a bench. They watched indulgently as Merryweather gamboled about, with Riff's gaze moving to Cain every once in a while. And if their hands were nearer to each other than strictly proper, then the other patrons were too caught up in their own affairs to notice. The sun washed over Cain, and the light caught his eyes, bringing out that deliciously alluring shade of gold. Cain basked in the sun, surrounded by those who adored him, while Jezebel skulked in the shadows. It was such a perfect allegory that Jezebel didn't know whether to laugh or to spit.
They left after Merryweather tired, and as they headed back home, she chattered on about this flower, and that butterfly. Jezebel didn't see how anyone could stand it, but Cain could have been listening to Mozart, he looked so pleased. He and Riff were standing too close together, but if either one of them noticed, they didn't seem to mind.
Jezebel told his father about it that night. "He's happy," he complained, the word tasting foul in his mouth.
In response, his father chuckled. "Good." Surprised, Jezebel looked up. His father shook his head at Jezebel's puzzled expression. "It is indeed wonderful to increase misery. However, it's so much sweeter to destroy happiness. Now," he continued, his voice low and a little rough, "tell me more. Don't leave anything out."
Jezebel continued his story, his father watching him with a hungry and rapt expression. It should have made him happy, but it didn't. It could have been any lowly trump card talking, but as long as he was talking about Cain, he would have had the Cardmaster's full attention. However, it was very rare that a trump card would be assigned to tail Cain. Unless he was working on something that had been designated top priority (by the Cardmaster, of course) following Cain was Jezebel's job. He would have liked to think that it was proof of his father's trust in him, but he realized that his father was simply very aware that Jezebel would miss nothing, knew that Jezebel was just as fixated on Cain as he was.
After being dismissed, Jezebel stormed back to his lab. Cassian saw him and called out, but the look on Jezebel's face made him close his mouth.
"Everybody wants him!" He glared at the jars holding his mother's organs. "Dearest Cain! Darling Cain! I'm sure that if you had met him, you would have loved him too! Certainly more than you loved me!" He laughed brokenly and sank to the floor. "Even me... I want him more than anything else." He staggered to his feet and grasped an empty jar desperately. "But, they won't want him so much once he's missing his pretty eyes. Then, he'll be all mine. Every last bit of him."
That night, Jezebel dreamt of Cain. He was lying on the ground, as still as death, with gaping, bloody sockets where his eyes should have been. Jezebel rapturously held Cain's gold-green eyes in the palm of his hand. Then, one at a time, he carefully brought them to his lips and devoured them. When he looked down, Cain's body was gone, and Jezebel knew that he had finally consumed all that his brother possessed and was.
The next day, Cain and Riff left the house without Merryweather. The urge to steal into the house and make off with the girl was strong, but Jezebel resisted. His task was surveillance only.
Cain and Riff took a carriage, much to Jezebel's annoyance. It much more difficult to follow a carriage weaving through the streets than to follow a man on foot. He hailed a hansom cab. "Follow that private carriage just ahead," he told the driver. "We're going to the same place." If the driver wondered at the idea that someone with a private carriage and a man who had to hire one off of the street would have the same destination, he didn't show it, and Jezebel considered not killing him at the end after all.
Cain's first stop was a mansion not quite so grand as the Hargreaves estate. Jezebel had the cab stop just a little ways, got out and told the driver to stay. He hid himself near the mansion and proceeded to wait. Whatever Cain was doing appeared to take some time, and Jezebel's scowl deepened as the wait increased. Finally, the front door opened and Cain--followed by Riff--exited with a smile that dropped as soon as the door closed, revealing an annoyed expression.
"The worst part is knowing that soon they'll be visiting us. When they come by, you must tell them that I'm out."
"Of course, sir."
"Or, perhaps, you should invite them in, explaining that I need test subjects for a new poison. Or instead you could tell them that I've tragically ingested one of my poisons, become a raving lunatic, and that you are shipping me of to Bedlam at the first possible opportunity."
"Right, sir, I shall regretfully inform them that you are not at home."
Cain rolled his eyes. "You're no fun at all."
With that, they returned to their carriage. Disgusted with their cheerful banter, Jezebel strode back to his own, glad at least to find it still waiting. "Keep following that carriage." His voice and expression were so dark that the driver flinched, and he obeyed without comment.
Cain hardly spent any time at the next residence at all. Jezebel concluded that he must have done nothing more than leave his calling call. However, he looked deeply irritated, and he crossed his arms and stopped in front of his carriage.
"I absolutely refuse to visit the De Gruchy family. Lord Francis is the most dreadful bore that I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. I won't go." His voice held more than a trace of childish petulance.
"It's only polite, Lord Cain." Riff sounded soothing and gentle.
"Damn politeness to hell! I'm not going, and you can't make me."
"But, sir, don't they have an eleven year old daughter? You did say that you wanted Miss Merryweather to make more friends her own age. You told me that you wanted her to have a chance to socialize with normal people."
"The De Gruchys are too dull to be considered normal," Cain muttered. However, he then sighed. "You're right Riff. You know that I hate that."
"My deepest apologies, sir. And, please, don't insinuate that you may have poisoned them. It inevitably kills the conversation."
"You're as bad as Uncle Neil."
"I'll consider that a compliment, if you don't mind," Riff replied. Looking extremely long suffering, Cain entered the carriage.
Jezebel's driver didn't even question when Jezebel got in, he simply continued to follow Cain. The wait at the next mansion was almost unbearably long, and Jezebel took only a tiny amount of pleasure in knowing that Cain was probably even more bored than he was. After what seemed like an eternity, Cain and Riff did walk out. Cain was glowering fiercely.
"It was your idea, Riff."
Even the usually unflappable Riff looked a little worn. "It was the right thing to do, sir. And now Miss Merryweather and Miss Olivia will be introduced, and you must admit that such a meeting could only be beneficial to Miss Olivia."
Cain sighed. "Never let it be said that I wasn't willing to suffer for a lady in peril."
"In peril, sir?"
"In peril of growing up to be as enormously dull as her parents. Really, halfway through I was beginning to wish the Delilah would show up and attack. At least that would have been interesting. And perhaps Lord Francis and Lady Samantha would have bored them all to death. All of my problems would have been solved."
Jezebel narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't take us so lightly, dear Cain." He said softly, a snarl in his voice. "And if you had said something earlier, an attack could have been arranged." Riff, on the other hand, was clearly quite amused, as he held up a hand to hide a laugh.
Cain shook his head. "I've had enough visiting for one day, Riff. Let's go home."
Jezebel fumed in the cab. The entire day had only proven, once again, that everyone wanted Cain. They desired his company, and he had the gall to treat it like a particularly odious chore. It didn't matter that Jezebel would have sooner killed than spoken to any of the people Cain had visited. That wasn't the damn point. The point was that once again Cain had everything. It was too much to bear.
After ensuring that Cain had indeed returned straight home, Jezebel gave the cab driver a complex set of directions that led them to an abandoned alleyway. Jezebel got out and faced the driver, who glared at him.
"You've had me going all over town and sitting on my ass when I could have been finding other customers. You owe me a lot." The driver eyed Jezebel's clothes, then grinned a little. "And maybe a bit more for not going around talking about a doctor with distinctive long blond hair who's obsessed with following some young aristocrat." He stared up at Jezebel. "Today is really going to cost you."
Jezebel chuckled. "No, I don't think that it will." The driver gurgled and clutched at his slashed throat as he stared in horror at the bloody scalpel in Jezebel's hand. After the driver breathed his last, Jezebel picked up the body and shoved it into the cab before stepping into the driver's seat. There was no sense in wasting a perfectly good fresh body, after all. At least this way, the day wasn't a total loss.
The next few days passed without incident until Cain attended a party. Jezebel had been to many such engagements, but he hadn't been invited to this one. It was just as well. He was still under strict orders to go unseen. Of course, it was difficult to not be noticed in a brightly lit room, which left him prowling around in the currently empty garden. He could see very little of what was going on inside, and he was almost ready to give up when he heard very familiar footsteps. He stared as his brother stepped into view. He was alone and wandering aimlessly.
Jezebel knew his father's orders. He could not be seen, and he was absolutely not allowed, under any circumstances, to touch. But Cain looked so delicate standing alone, and when he turned his head so that the lamp light made his eyes flash gold, Jezebel was simply unable to help himself. As silent as the grave, he crept until he was was right behind Cain. Then he shot out his arms and captured his brother in a vice like grip.
Cain jerked and struggled, and he was about to shout, when Jezebel bent down and began to gently nibble on his ear, causing him to go still with surprise.
"For someone leading such a dangerous life, you aren't very careful," Jezebel murmured. "My dear Cain."
Jezebel could have laughed. Here was his brother, trapped and helpless. He wouldn't dare call for help and risk the lives of innocents. "Finally," he sighed. "Finally." His expression darkened. "You think that you have everything, don't you?" He began to roughly undo the buttons of Cain's undoubtedly expensive shirt. "Well, it's my turn to have something. This time I'm going to do the taking. You're going to-ah!" Jezebel yelped and stumbled back. Cain had stamped on his foot. Hard.
"You're sick." Cain manged to sound both disgusted and bored at the same time. The look on his face was pure arrogance. "I'm not in the mood for your games tonight."
"Don't tell me you're going back to the party. You look a mess." Jezebel smirked.
Cain ran his fingers through his hair. "Undoubtedly." Then he smirked right back as he buttoned up his shirt. "And now, the talk of the evening will be the question of which lovely lady I graced with my attentions." He turned and began to walk away.
"Wait! Don't you turn your back on me!"
Cain looked back, and there was something dangerous in his eyes. A challenge: "Follow me if you dare." Yet there was something else there as well, something dark enough to give even Jezebel pause. He couldn't continue their battle. Not here, not now.
Cain stepped onto the terrace, nodded to Riff (and how long he had been there, Jezebel wasn't sure), and went back inside. Jezebel just stood there, not quite ready to leave and admit defeat.
There was no way that he would be able to keep this from his father, and the punishment would be harsh. Jezebel recalled the darkness in his brother's marvelous, accursed eyes and tried to decide if it had been worth it.
Fandom: Count Cain/Godchild
Pairing: One sided Jezebel/Cain
Rating: R
Warnings: Incest, violence, attempted rape, and possibly disturbing imagery. This isn't a nice story.
Word Count: ~2500 words
A/N: Written for springkink
The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves. -William Penn
For such a hunted man, Jezebel had often noted, Cain was remarkably incautious. The security at the Hargreaves mansion was nothing spectacular, the sort any noble might have had, and Cain frequently went on night outings, often without even the eternally faithful Riff accompanying him.
Jezebel wondered if it was a challenge, if Cain was daring Delilah and his father to make a move. Or maybe he was merely overconfident. Either way, it suited Jezebel's purposes just fine. It made his darling brother much easier to follow. Almost too easy. It would be so effortless to sneak into Cain's bedroom in the dead of night, or perhaps Jezebel could snatch him off of the street and hold him down tightly while he squirmed and fought.
But... no. Jezebel was following his father's orders and was not to touch, only look. He was to see, but not be seen.
Today was apparently a happy family outing. Skipping ahead was precious little Merryweather, a cheerful smile on her sweet angelic face. Riff, ever present hound that he was, smiled down at his master, looking like Cain was the only human being in the whole damn world. And standing between them, safe in the middle, was Cain. Such a merry little group. Jezebel thought that he might be sick.
"Cain, hurry up!" Merry had turned, was beckoning.
"Don't get too far ahead!" Cain admonished her. Jezebel smiled. Yes, it would be a terrible tragedy if poor Merryweather were to get lost. Jezebel's fingers twitched as he imagined wrapping them around her sweet neck and bashing her brains out as her beloved big brother watched. He took a deep breath. The thought was too tempting, and he had to keep his mind on his mission.
As the group passed the shadow that Jezebel was hiding, Riff turned his head, slight suspicion in his eyes. Jezebel cursed internally. Yes, he called the man a dog, but was he truly a damn bloodhound? Luckily, an impatient "Riff!" from Cain distracted the man, and he moved away. Jezebel scoffed. It was ridiculous, the way a single word from his master defined Riff's entire world. It was revolting how Riff doted on Cain, acting as if ensuring Cain's happiness was the meaning of life. The two of them thought that they had true, unconditional love. They would learn.
Cain and the rest of them walked on, with Jezebel following slightly behind. They stopped at a bright, spacious park. Merryweather headed straight for the flower gardens, while Cain and Riff sat down on a bench. They watched indulgently as Merryweather gamboled about, with Riff's gaze moving to Cain every once in a while. And if their hands were nearer to each other than strictly proper, then the other patrons were too caught up in their own affairs to notice. The sun washed over Cain, and the light caught his eyes, bringing out that deliciously alluring shade of gold. Cain basked in the sun, surrounded by those who adored him, while Jezebel skulked in the shadows. It was such a perfect allegory that Jezebel didn't know whether to laugh or to spit.
They left after Merryweather tired, and as they headed back home, she chattered on about this flower, and that butterfly. Jezebel didn't see how anyone could stand it, but Cain could have been listening to Mozart, he looked so pleased. He and Riff were standing too close together, but if either one of them noticed, they didn't seem to mind.
Jezebel told his father about it that night. "He's happy," he complained, the word tasting foul in his mouth.
In response, his father chuckled. "Good." Surprised, Jezebel looked up. His father shook his head at Jezebel's puzzled expression. "It is indeed wonderful to increase misery. However, it's so much sweeter to destroy happiness. Now," he continued, his voice low and a little rough, "tell me more. Don't leave anything out."
Jezebel continued his story, his father watching him with a hungry and rapt expression. It should have made him happy, but it didn't. It could have been any lowly trump card talking, but as long as he was talking about Cain, he would have had the Cardmaster's full attention. However, it was very rare that a trump card would be assigned to tail Cain. Unless he was working on something that had been designated top priority (by the Cardmaster, of course) following Cain was Jezebel's job. He would have liked to think that it was proof of his father's trust in him, but he realized that his father was simply very aware that Jezebel would miss nothing, knew that Jezebel was just as fixated on Cain as he was.
After being dismissed, Jezebel stormed back to his lab. Cassian saw him and called out, but the look on Jezebel's face made him close his mouth.
"Everybody wants him!" He glared at the jars holding his mother's organs. "Dearest Cain! Darling Cain! I'm sure that if you had met him, you would have loved him too! Certainly more than you loved me!" He laughed brokenly and sank to the floor. "Even me... I want him more than anything else." He staggered to his feet and grasped an empty jar desperately. "But, they won't want him so much once he's missing his pretty eyes. Then, he'll be all mine. Every last bit of him."
That night, Jezebel dreamt of Cain. He was lying on the ground, as still as death, with gaping, bloody sockets where his eyes should have been. Jezebel rapturously held Cain's gold-green eyes in the palm of his hand. Then, one at a time, he carefully brought them to his lips and devoured them. When he looked down, Cain's body was gone, and Jezebel knew that he had finally consumed all that his brother possessed and was.
The next day, Cain and Riff left the house without Merryweather. The urge to steal into the house and make off with the girl was strong, but Jezebel resisted. His task was surveillance only.
Cain and Riff took a carriage, much to Jezebel's annoyance. It much more difficult to follow a carriage weaving through the streets than to follow a man on foot. He hailed a hansom cab. "Follow that private carriage just ahead," he told the driver. "We're going to the same place." If the driver wondered at the idea that someone with a private carriage and a man who had to hire one off of the street would have the same destination, he didn't show it, and Jezebel considered not killing him at the end after all.
Cain's first stop was a mansion not quite so grand as the Hargreaves estate. Jezebel had the cab stop just a little ways, got out and told the driver to stay. He hid himself near the mansion and proceeded to wait. Whatever Cain was doing appeared to take some time, and Jezebel's scowl deepened as the wait increased. Finally, the front door opened and Cain--followed by Riff--exited with a smile that dropped as soon as the door closed, revealing an annoyed expression.
"The worst part is knowing that soon they'll be visiting us. When they come by, you must tell them that I'm out."
"Of course, sir."
"Or, perhaps, you should invite them in, explaining that I need test subjects for a new poison. Or instead you could tell them that I've tragically ingested one of my poisons, become a raving lunatic, and that you are shipping me of to Bedlam at the first possible opportunity."
"Right, sir, I shall regretfully inform them that you are not at home."
Cain rolled his eyes. "You're no fun at all."
With that, they returned to their carriage. Disgusted with their cheerful banter, Jezebel strode back to his own, glad at least to find it still waiting. "Keep following that carriage." His voice and expression were so dark that the driver flinched, and he obeyed without comment.
Cain hardly spent any time at the next residence at all. Jezebel concluded that he must have done nothing more than leave his calling call. However, he looked deeply irritated, and he crossed his arms and stopped in front of his carriage.
"I absolutely refuse to visit the De Gruchy family. Lord Francis is the most dreadful bore that I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. I won't go." His voice held more than a trace of childish petulance.
"It's only polite, Lord Cain." Riff sounded soothing and gentle.
"Damn politeness to hell! I'm not going, and you can't make me."
"But, sir, don't they have an eleven year old daughter? You did say that you wanted Miss Merryweather to make more friends her own age. You told me that you wanted her to have a chance to socialize with normal people."
"The De Gruchys are too dull to be considered normal," Cain muttered. However, he then sighed. "You're right Riff. You know that I hate that."
"My deepest apologies, sir. And, please, don't insinuate that you may have poisoned them. It inevitably kills the conversation."
"You're as bad as Uncle Neil."
"I'll consider that a compliment, if you don't mind," Riff replied. Looking extremely long suffering, Cain entered the carriage.
Jezebel's driver didn't even question when Jezebel got in, he simply continued to follow Cain. The wait at the next mansion was almost unbearably long, and Jezebel took only a tiny amount of pleasure in knowing that Cain was probably even more bored than he was. After what seemed like an eternity, Cain and Riff did walk out. Cain was glowering fiercely.
"It was your idea, Riff."
Even the usually unflappable Riff looked a little worn. "It was the right thing to do, sir. And now Miss Merryweather and Miss Olivia will be introduced, and you must admit that such a meeting could only be beneficial to Miss Olivia."
Cain sighed. "Never let it be said that I wasn't willing to suffer for a lady in peril."
"In peril, sir?"
"In peril of growing up to be as enormously dull as her parents. Really, halfway through I was beginning to wish the Delilah would show up and attack. At least that would have been interesting. And perhaps Lord Francis and Lady Samantha would have bored them all to death. All of my problems would have been solved."
Jezebel narrowed his eyes. "You shouldn't take us so lightly, dear Cain." He said softly, a snarl in his voice. "And if you had said something earlier, an attack could have been arranged." Riff, on the other hand, was clearly quite amused, as he held up a hand to hide a laugh.
Cain shook his head. "I've had enough visiting for one day, Riff. Let's go home."
Jezebel fumed in the cab. The entire day had only proven, once again, that everyone wanted Cain. They desired his company, and he had the gall to treat it like a particularly odious chore. It didn't matter that Jezebel would have sooner killed than spoken to any of the people Cain had visited. That wasn't the damn point. The point was that once again Cain had everything. It was too much to bear.
After ensuring that Cain had indeed returned straight home, Jezebel gave the cab driver a complex set of directions that led them to an abandoned alleyway. Jezebel got out and faced the driver, who glared at him.
"You've had me going all over town and sitting on my ass when I could have been finding other customers. You owe me a lot." The driver eyed Jezebel's clothes, then grinned a little. "And maybe a bit more for not going around talking about a doctor with distinctive long blond hair who's obsessed with following some young aristocrat." He stared up at Jezebel. "Today is really going to cost you."
Jezebel chuckled. "No, I don't think that it will." The driver gurgled and clutched at his slashed throat as he stared in horror at the bloody scalpel in Jezebel's hand. After the driver breathed his last, Jezebel picked up the body and shoved it into the cab before stepping into the driver's seat. There was no sense in wasting a perfectly good fresh body, after all. At least this way, the day wasn't a total loss.
The next few days passed without incident until Cain attended a party. Jezebel had been to many such engagements, but he hadn't been invited to this one. It was just as well. He was still under strict orders to go unseen. Of course, it was difficult to not be noticed in a brightly lit room, which left him prowling around in the currently empty garden. He could see very little of what was going on inside, and he was almost ready to give up when he heard very familiar footsteps. He stared as his brother stepped into view. He was alone and wandering aimlessly.
Jezebel knew his father's orders. He could not be seen, and he was absolutely not allowed, under any circumstances, to touch. But Cain looked so delicate standing alone, and when he turned his head so that the lamp light made his eyes flash gold, Jezebel was simply unable to help himself. As silent as the grave, he crept until he was was right behind Cain. Then he shot out his arms and captured his brother in a vice like grip.
Cain jerked and struggled, and he was about to shout, when Jezebel bent down and began to gently nibble on his ear, causing him to go still with surprise.
"For someone leading such a dangerous life, you aren't very careful," Jezebel murmured. "My dear Cain."
Jezebel could have laughed. Here was his brother, trapped and helpless. He wouldn't dare call for help and risk the lives of innocents. "Finally," he sighed. "Finally." His expression darkened. "You think that you have everything, don't you?" He began to roughly undo the buttons of Cain's undoubtedly expensive shirt. "Well, it's my turn to have something. This time I'm going to do the taking. You're going to-ah!" Jezebel yelped and stumbled back. Cain had stamped on his foot. Hard.
"You're sick." Cain manged to sound both disgusted and bored at the same time. The look on his face was pure arrogance. "I'm not in the mood for your games tonight."
"Don't tell me you're going back to the party. You look a mess." Jezebel smirked.
Cain ran his fingers through his hair. "Undoubtedly." Then he smirked right back as he buttoned up his shirt. "And now, the talk of the evening will be the question of which lovely lady I graced with my attentions." He turned and began to walk away.
"Wait! Don't you turn your back on me!"
Cain looked back, and there was something dangerous in his eyes. A challenge: "Follow me if you dare." Yet there was something else there as well, something dark enough to give even Jezebel pause. He couldn't continue their battle. Not here, not now.
Cain stepped onto the terrace, nodded to Riff (and how long he had been there, Jezebel wasn't sure), and went back inside. Jezebel just stood there, not quite ready to leave and admit defeat.
There was no way that he would be able to keep this from his father, and the punishment would be harsh. Jezebel recalled the darkness in his brother's marvelous, accursed eyes and tried to decide if it had been worth it.