Author Note: Yes sir, it's my "first time". I'm not skilled in the fanfic department, and my writing's a bit crusty, but I guess you take what you get. Please critique the life out of it. I'll need the pointers.
Disclaimer: None of this is my st00f. Cain, Riffy, and the rest of Godchild/Count Cain belongs to Yuki Something-or-other and that one media thing that bought the manga, not I. The title also comes from that one Rob Thomas song, "Ever the Same."
Ever the Same
Cain woke with a start, twisted in his blanket-restraints, tears and sweat glistening on his pale body. He felt cold; he felt alone. The scars on his back seemed fresh and re-opened, searing with pain that should've subsided long ago. Those haunting nightmares which plagued him for years had still not completely vanished.
The clock struck one. Every ticking and tocking that resounded from the intimidating grandfather's clock was distorted into the cracking of a whip each time it hit Cain's ears. He was older now, more mature.. why do these nightmares still render him so helpless? Perhaps there are some wounds that the all-powerful clock cannot heal.
He pondered going to get Riff. No, Riff was sleeping. It would be rude to wake him. But... Riff is his servant. His. He could order him to do anything that struck his fancy at any time, and Riff would be expected to do it. Courtesy, or comfort...
The choice was pretty clear. He knew that Riff wouldn't care, anyways. Slipping on his robe, Cain stepped gingerly out into the darkened hallway and crept as quietly as possible down to his servant's room. Second-guessing himself one last time, Cain eventually convinced himself to knock. He knocked only twice, half praying that Riff wouldn't hear him.
But, he was heard.
"Master Cain..." Riff said rubbing his eyes, "It's one in the morning... what's wrong?"
An inner battle between Cain's need for comfort and the defense of his pride ended in tragedy for his ego. In a very unmanly display, the poor young earl collapsed against his servant's chest, tears streaking down his cheeks and random babblings about his nightmare flowing rapidly from his lips.
Startled, Riff gently cradled the shivering form of his master close to him. What could he say? It had been years since his master came crying to him like this. He had matured now, and surely the old comforting words he used to use to calm him would be null and void. What else could he do but hold him until he stopped crying?
For several long minutes, Riff did only that. After a few moments, Cain's once obnoxious and childlike sobs had slowed to a halt and he began to regain his composure. But Riff didn't let go. He knew better than to let his master leave just yet. Just because his tears had stopped didn't mean his pain did.
"Riff, could you make me some tea?" inquired Cain, cheeks still wet with fresh tears, "Please?"
"Of course, sir. Wait here, and I'll go make us some right now."
When Riff returned with the tea, however, he came in to see his master laying sprawled out across his bed, sleeping more peacefully it seemed than he ever had before. Setting the tea aside, he walked over to his master and pulled the blankets over his suddenly calm body. And with a warm, caring smile, he brushed aside some of the dark locks that guarded Cain's pale face and gently kissed his cheek.
"Goodnight, milord," Riff whispered softly.
Though years passed, it seems nothing really ever changed.