A Christmas for Cain

To: Godchild Fans Fr: MsJezebel

Disclaimer: I do not own Cain Saga nor Godchild but I am waiting for the last volume to come out here.

-+Cain's Christmas Eve+-

In Cain's manor, the hearth was warming and sounds of carols were being sung outside. Riff was helping some of the maids hang some ornaments on the Christmas tree. Young Mary Weather hurried down the stairs.

"Hurry Riff! I've finally finished knitting our stockings. See? It's got our names embroidered on them!" chirped Mary excitedly. She threw down her yarn balls and knitting needles onto an open armchair.

Cain heard the stomping and snuck up behind Mary.

"And what, pray tell, are these?" asked Cain incredulously as he picked up a very haphazard-looking sock. There were many holes in them due to the threads not being pulled tightly. The embroidered names were barely legible.

"Who's 'Coln'?" asked Cain again.

Mary immediately swiped the stockings from him. Hugging her creations to her chest she retorted, "It says Cain! I just forgot to fix the 'a' and to add a dot above the 'i'!"

Cain smiled mischievously as he saw Mary blush. "So those are supposed to be stockings? I was afraid you brought home some runned-over animals."

As Riff continued helping the maids set up the Christmas tree, he watched from his step ladder as little Mary Weather chased her older brother with her knitting needles. And knitting needles are bigger than a sewing needle.

"I'll teach you to make fun of my knitting Cain!!!"

"I was just joking Mary Weather! Now quit it!" yelled Cain. Even he was afraid of needles. Mary was about to jump on her brother's back and give him a good beating but Cain dodged at the last second.

"Oomph! Oh, CAIN YOU JERK! Ow!" moaned Mary as she massaged her head. But looking down, she saw an older man's shoes. Slowly her blue eyes traveled upwards.

"Are you hurt Miss Mary Weather?" asked Crehador. He pulled her up onto her feet.

"N-no, I'm alright! Thank you Mr.Crehador!" said Mary, blushing a shade of red that matched her frilly dress.

"Mary, must you blush?" asked Cain, pretending not to notice her eyes shooting daggers at him, he turned to Crehador. "So what brings YOU here? Handouts for the poor is down the street."

Crehador closed his eyes and took off his cloak. "Well for your information Cain Hargreaves, I was just passing by. I wouldn't come here on a cold winter day otherwise," finished the young magician with a smug note in his voice.

'This guy needs to be knocked down a few pegs,' thought Cain with a frown on his face. "Well? Care to tell us what you want? And I don't suggest you finish taking off your hat because I won't allow you to stay here."

Crehador smirked. "What's this? Earl Cain is also Mr. Scrooge? It took me hours to get here and I have had to walk quite a distance because the horses couldn't go through this snow. I-I had no breakfast this morning nor any lunch. Will you really let me go home without some food?"

And this he aimed at Mary, making sure he gave her his best poor-man smile. Mary of course, fell for it.

"Of course not! Mr. Crehador, please stay here!" insisted Mary, with sparkles in her eyes. Cain shuddered at how that Crehador can work his magic on girls.

"Grr… WHO ARE YOU CALLING SCROOGE?! You're even stingier about money than I am! Mary, you've exhausted my idiocy-tolerance policy when you invited that Witch Doctor last time but don't think I'll let this penny-pincher into my house!"

And with that, Cain turned on his heel and marched upstairs. He threw open the door to his private study room. He locked the door and stomped straight for his desk. He plumped himself down onto his chair and without looking, rummaged around for his old wooden box.

He flipped the lid open and dumped all his chocolate candy onto his desk.

"It's Christmas and everyone down there is a jerk! Why I've-" and Cain pops a chocolate truffle into his mouth, "never acted like Scrooge in my life! I've-," and the Earl pops some chocolate malts into his mouth, " even paid that penny-pincher more than his fill for just getting me information on Delilah!!!"

As the evening wore on, the servants kept knocking on his door. Each time Cain would open it and throw candy at them. Riff, worried about the fire in the study going out, tried to force the door. But Cain barricaded the door with his Victorian couch.

In fact, the young Earl was lying on the couch to insure that his door doesn't open. With his feet propped onto the couch's armrest, he watched snowflakes drift down a silent black sky…

Cain tried to slap away the cold hand that was shaking him. But it felt like his hand just slapped cold air. Thinking that he left the window open, he eased himself up. With his jet black hair askew, he rubbed his eyes. Then suddenly a pale face came into view.

"Well finally! I thought you'd never wake up!" exclaimed a young handsome man with hair up to his chin. But his voice had an echo to it. Looking down, he saw that the man had no feet.

Cain blinked. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A GHOST!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Jeez Cain, you remember me right? It's me, Gilford," said the young man. He shook his head and looked at his childhood best friend. Or ex-childhood best friend after Cain discovered that he was the one who tricked Meridiana into suicide.

Cain coughed and tried to sit upright. But his legs were trembling. "T-this has got to be a hoax! How can you still be alive Gilford? Y-you d-died in Cain Saga volume 4! I saw it!"

The ghostly figure of Gilford rolled his eyes. "I think I would know that. And this isn't a hoax, I'm a ghost. And to be exact, I'm the Ghost of Christmas."

"EXCUSE ME?!!" roared Cain, forgetting to be scared of ghosts.

"I'm sure your hearing hasn't gone Cain. Now stop being a scaredy-cat and come with me."

"To where? And this has got to be a projection from somewhere…" said Cain aloud, hoping to find a projector light coming from a wall.

"Well, this should prove it!" laughed Gilford as he pulled Cain by the hand up into the midnight sky. They swirled around for a moment and landed smack dab next to a small house.

"Blurgh! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!!!" yelled Cain, as he involuntarily barfed near the window.

The ghost of Gilford smiled benignly. "No, I am back to who I really am. Which Mary Weather showed me when she let me play with her. But enough about me Cain, take a look into that window."

Cain gave one more fierce look at Gilford and approached the window. It had a few candles lit, most were already little stumps of wax. His eyes made out a very small Christmas tree.

Turning from the window, he looked at Gilford. "Well? So the Christmas tree is small, what do you want me to do about that?"

Gilford's smile turned small as he said, "It's actually Christmas Eve. Do you see any presents there? Or stockings?"

Once again, the Earl observed around the room. He kept having this feeling like he's seen this place before… Cain saw that there weren't any presents under the tree. There wasn't any ornaments on the tree for that matter. With reluctance, he looked at the bare board above the fireplace. Not a stocking in sight.

Then suddenly, he heard a young girl's voice. Quickly, Cain ducked down.

"There's no need to do that, she can't see you," said Gilford as he hovered nearer the window.

Cain frowned. Thinking he'd just take a quick glance, popped his head up again. But his eyes couldn't turn away. The young girl looked about 5 years old, wearing a white nightgown with patches here and there. She had put the candle down and sat before the little Christmas tree.

Her head was bowed down and prayer and she asked, "I hope that someday you will let me, at least once, have enough threads to make a stocking. Mama says we can't afford to spare any socks for Santa to put goodies in but maybe next year will be better. I hope Santa will leave something here for me but I guess he won't since we didn't make any cookies. Well, it was nice talking to You and I've got to go before I get into trouble. In Heaven's name I pray, Amen."

Cain stood transfixed long after the younger Mary Weather blew out her candle. Then a hand was on his shoulder. Turning around, Cain saw that Gilford was looking at him sadly.

"It's time to go back."

The Earl slowly looked back through the window, and stared at the spot Mary had just left. Then his eyes widened. He quickly put his hands in his pockets and pulled out the chocolates he left in there.

"HEY! What do you think you're doing?!!" yelled Gilford as he zoomed in after Cain. Cain had removed his own custom-made silk socks and hooked it onto a spare nail on the fireplace. He shoved all the chocolates into it.

"While that's hear-warming, it's a little gross," remarked Gilford, smiling nonetheless.

"Just shut up! It's one thing spooking me in the middle of the night, and quite another taking me here to peep on my little sister's past," replied Cain, smoothing back his hair.

"Whatever you say Earl Cain."

-+Cain's Christmas Day+-

"Oi! Wake up Crehador!!!"

Crehador fell onto the floor, dragging his bed sheets and blanket with him. He untangled himself and prepared to throw a pillow at whoever woke him up.

"Finally! Now hurry and get yourself dressed. My carriage ain't waiting all day!" called Cain, his breath coming out in white puffs in the early winter morning.

"WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?!!"

"Your welcome!" replied Cain, laughing as he made room for Crehador to sit in. "Sorry about yesterday, I was just pissed about you calling me Scrooge."

As Crehador became more and more weirded out by Cain's enthusiastic manner, they arrived at Cain's manor.

Riff, not to mention Mary Weather, were all shocked to hear such merriment in the Earl's voice. As the day wore on into night, they exchanged presents and bid farewell to Crehador.

Soon, only Cain and Mary Weather were sitting up in the living room. As the clock was ready to strike 12, Mary took down Cain's stocking and gave it to him.

Taking Mary into his lap, Cain looked questioningly down at the red sock. He reached into the stocking and pulled out a couple of chocolate candies. He looked up to find that Mary was waiting to see his response.

"I know it's weird but ever since I was 5 years old, I've always put chocolates in stockings for Christmas. One Christmas day, I found a nice black sock on my fireplace. It had some chocolates in it. And it wasn't exactly what I wanted but well, I guess I really loved it. And I know that it's just candy but-"

But Mary Weather didn't finish her sentence. Cain pulled her closer into his arms and placed his soft chin on her head.

"Happy Christmas my little Mary Weather."

The End

I was going to do a whole parody on "A Christmas Carol" but it would've been too hard to come up with 2 more ghosts. But I hope you like this little Christmas fic, although Gilford is a hardly used character even though he's cute and was the main "bad guy" for half of Cain Saga. Please review!

Cain: Happy Christmas to everyone too! And don't you Americans laugh and say, "Merry Halloween" to me!