His Eden's Curse

A/N: this is a one shot story that sort of explains (in my opinion) Jezebelle and the nature of the curse that surrounds his family. The lyrics below are from some song I heard and copied down, whoever owns it, owns it... please don't sue, if someone knows where it comes from, I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me...pretty please?

Anyway, enjoy!

Did you ever think of me as your best friend?

Did I ever think of you

I'm not complaining

I never tried to feel, I never tried to fear

This vibration

I never tried to reach, I never tried to reach

Your Eden...

Did I ever think of you as my enemy?

Did you ever think of me

I am complaining

I never tried to fear, I never tried to feel

This vibration

I never tried to reach, I never tried to reach

Your Eden...

It was in this old church, their meeting. He had come without his father's consent, and his brother had come, undoubtedly with his famous butler watching every step. He did not put it past his brother's sister to be there as well, though Cain was known to be overprotective of the brat with good reason.

Come, he thought, come, my thief.

And exactly in tune to the tolling of the bell, courtesy of his devil Casian, who was high above the creaky church, Cain stepped in. He was the sight of a perfectly well-bred upper class bastard – black, formal coat, blade hidden under the unused cane, and of course a trench coat owing to the stormy weather within himself as well as the tempest outside. The coat and everything over and under it was a mask to hide scars, although Cain could never hide the truth – his golden green eyes that betrayed his father's lust.

Jezebelle licked his lips. His adopted father, Alexis was truly a jeweler. He knew how to cut Cain into a perfect diamond, by constant whips and scars. From time to time Jezebelle would temper their diamond, Cain, though he never did a finer job than Alexis. He would give his father that much credit. To everything else he credited himself and the unholy bond he shared with Cain, for although Cain denied it, their bond was thicker than anything else.

Now Cain swaggered in, not directly seeing Jezebelle. Jezebelle had been watching him, leaning the right wall of the church, peeking out of the rows of pews that separated the two. He lay there for a while, slumped on the ground, looking at Cain intently. Cain moved steadily through the center aisle, looking everywhere, his eyes darting everywhere save Jezebelle.

Jezebelle found no sight of Riff, which was odd – could it be that Cain had truly come alone? No... Cain was a human, a creature of habit, and it was practically a Hargreave trait to be used to curses and omens. No doubt he had forged the habit of never trusting anyone – any Hargreave had those tendencies or they wouldn't survive.

Finally lightning cleared the darkness away for a dim second, and Jezebelle had the delight of seeing Cain's eyes fully. In water they would reflect light constantly, a perfect pair, but in those sockets they saw only despair.

Cain came to the altar and looking left and right; as if by fate, lightning came and thunder clapped and finally Cain saw his half-brother. Jezebelle was nothing like his perfect self; he looked now like some drunken fool on the street. His pants and long shirt were wet from walking in the rain, and several of the buttons on his shirt and sleeve were unbuttoned. Without a thought, Cain raised his gun and pointed it squarely on Jezebelle's heart.

"Hello half-brother," Jezebelle said 'brother' with amused contempt, looking at Cain's pointed face.

Cain did not waver. "What's going on?"

"I knew that you would solve those puzzles which led here – the only church close to the sea on a hill. We think alike, brother."

Cain seemed to struggle with the word. Finally he said something Jezebelle thought he would not say. "Where is Alexis?"

"Father isn't here. Father doesn't even know you're here, much less me." When he paused, Cain looked ready to pull the trigger. Jezebelle, in his desperation, knew he could not afford to die; he would first finish what he had to say, then his brother could shoot. He spoke again, "Why so disappointed? You have me, don't you? Don't you at least want to listen to what I have to say?"

"Dead men don't talk." Cain said, pulling the trigger. It was a rare moment for Jezebelle to let his guard down, unlike his past dealings with the man.

Inhuman reflexes gave Jezebelle something for his pains. A stream of blood trickled down his hand, scarring its back. Cain made ready to shoot again, but before he could, Jezebelle tackled him with his body and pinned him down, his right hand turning blue and bloody. This hand went over Cain's left arm, and of course the other went to the right. The gun had been knocked a couple of paces away.

"Aren't you going to run to your butler?"

Cain smiled. "I asked him to stay and make sure nothing happened to Merry." How Jezebelle hated that. He scowled as he tightened his rein over Cain's body, struggling to keep his bleeding hand steady.

"Do you know, dear brother, that we are not at all different?" he asked. "Behind this rain soaked shirt lies scars coming from our dear father. Pray tell me why you hate him so...for he seems to love you dearly." As he said those words, jealousy stabbed repeatedly in him – Cain was always the diamond and he the ruby, only the ruby – a rarity that was easy enough to mold and destroy. At that moment his love for his brother faded enough for him to tighten his grip even more and just as quickly he withdrew his excess strength, terrified of his emotions. He looked coldly at his brother again, hiding from a torrent of emotions that threatened to restore his sanity.

"Your life, and father's... is the only Eden I have..."

Cain struggled violently against Jezebelle's words and body. He wasn't sure why he didn't want to hear his brother's words, only that they repeated in his head unendingly, until the repetition was more than he could bear.

"I don't know what you wish for Cain. I can only guess... because you and I must have the same reasons for living..." Jezebelle's voice croaked under the pain of keeping Cain's attention, and spoke fast, loud and clear. "I can only guess that you need something to protect...isn't that why you stick your nose into other people's business? It can't be just a curse, your addiction to evil. In some corner of your mind you think that perhaps you want to die, but that isn't it...it's that you want to give yourself a reason to live. Doesn't the fact that you wish to protect your sister proof of this? You want a reason... and now you guard your possessions jealously, fearful of the past's haunts."

Jezebelle braced himself with the onslaught of denial and strength from Cain, in a moment he accepted that he would die soon, and his fluctuating emotion fixed itself on sorrow.

To counter Cain's denials, he forced his eye to remain on Cain's. He talked faster than he did, although still managed to keep his voice from breaking or slurring. "It's the same here...to keep our father alive, that is all I live for... why must you two fight? I had no wish to kill you either brother... why must you force me to choose whom to kill in the end?"

"We're not the same!" growled Cain. At that time he didn't know why he said that, the only thought in his mind being that it wasn't true, it wasn't it wasn't it wasn't.

He overthrew Jezebelle's weakening body, stumbled to the gun, pointed at Jezebelle, and without thinking, shot. Jezebelle was shot close to the heart, as he groped towards a pew and leaned on it, legs askew and a body that was slowly falling from the side of the pew down.

Cain's mind only then registered what he saw.

A golden glint. Jezebelle's eyes were golden.

As Cain's eyes moved down Jezebelle's body, he saw blood trickling from his brother's back. And those were not from Cain's shots. At once it registered in Cain – those were from opened wounds, scars on his back. For a moment, Cain felt his own scars, every line, from his shoulders to his hips, burn.

Jezebelle was still talking. "You... you are my brother and Count Cain Hargreaves, no matter what you do... by now you know the true curse of being a Hargreave..." he mumbled softly, before slumping on the pew he was leaning on.

Cain dropped the gun and fell to his knees, wondering who it was he killed... and whether there was some way to cheat the curse that had been wrought on him.

Outside, the tempest seemed dim and weak, it was nothing to the storm it and the church saw.