Cain's Family Ties 4/12
Title: Cain’s Family Ties 4/12
Rating: R
Pairings: Cain/Ambrose, DG/Jeb
Warnings: Incest, rape, violence.
Summary: A fun, tearful family reunion takes a turn for the worse.
A/N: Refrigerator.
“I knew there was a catch.”
DG had a great talent for glaring a person down until the offending creature folded in upon itself and catered to her every whim. It was hereditary: The Queen had it, and Azkadellia had more than proved herself capable.
However, she had found her match in the form of Gertrude Cain.
Worried that the combined power of their glares would cause the wheat to catch on fire, Cain spoke up. “They only knew that Jeb and I were coming, Princess,” he said, speaking as calmly as he could. “It was sorta implied that we would help out.”
“It is the harvest season,” Jeb said helpfully.
She sighed. It wasn’t like she hadn’t helped out with farmwork before... But, Cain’s family didn’t even own a combine harvester! The thought of harvesting that giant field by hand... She shuddered, and wished that her arms would just fall off so she didn’t have to do it.
And then, she saw it.
“And this is what we’ll use-”
She stared at the item in Johan’s hands. “Is that... a scythe?” she asked.
He nodded. “Brand new, too. The old one... Well, Tuck said he lost it...”
“Can I see it?” He handed her the scythe, and she closely examined it. “I’ve always loved scythes. Popsicle had one, but he never let me use it.”
“I wonder why,” Jeb said dryly.
“I am the bearer of the scythe. I AM SCYTHE-BEARER! TREMBLE IN FEAR, WHEAT!”
Jeb sighed, but everyone but DG noticed the way he looked at her.
“Wow, this is really boring.”
Ambrose had always had a great talent for avoiding hard labor. Apparently, it was a trait he had inherited from his father, for Elmira had joined him soon after he had arrived in the shed, choosing to lean against the wall while he fiddled and played with the various machines that the Cain family owned, trying to find ways to make them better.
“Would you rather be out there in the fields?”
“... I’ll be quiet.”
But, he didn’t want her to be quiet. He had a million questions he wanted to ask her, and his father. Unfortunately, he was sure that he would never regain the willpower to confront Eustace again. Fortunately, Elmira seemed more than willing to tell him everything he wanted to know.
“So, you have sisters?”
She nodded. “Two older full-sisters. And Tuck’s my half-brother.”
“Where are your sisters right now?”
“Well, Emily went to the University, and Gail owns a shop in the city.” She frowned. “At least, that’s what Daddy told me. They don’t talk to him much anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because of Tuck!”
“What did he do?”
“Gail says he was born.”
“Quite a few people are guilty of that crime.”
“Tuck is older than Emily, but younger than Gail.” She shook her head. “That’s too much like math for me.”
Ambrose understood. Gods, he knew more about his parents than he had ever wanted to know. He pined for the days of his ignorant youth, where his parents were his parents and his family tree wasn’t as convoluted as a pretzel. A time where all he had to worry about was graduating from University and finding a date to the dance.
In his world of evil princesses that weren’t really evil and great ideas that went horribly, horribly wrong, those innocent days seemed unreal, like a story he had been told but never really experienced firsthand.
“Do you miss them?”
“Lots!” she said cheerfully. “Emily makes the best blackberry pies in the whole country! And Gail is very clever! She can do math with real big numbers. She can even multiply!”
“Do they ever visit?”
“Not really. Emily sometimes drops by when she knows Daddy’s off with Uncle Jo. Gail writes lots, but Daddy won’t let me see any of her letters.” She looked both ways, as if checking that no one was listening in on their conversation. “I read one, though, but I didn’t understand a lick of it. Ambrose, what’s a ‘dirty, sluttish bastard, I’ll cut your dick off?’”
Ambrose accidentally hit his finger with a wrench.
“It means... It means you should never say those words again. To anyone. Ever,” he said, visibly flustered.
“That’s what Daddy said,” she whined.
“So... You miss them a lot.”
“Dang, Ambrose! You sure do have a listening problem...”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “How would you feel if I told you that I was your half-brother? Like Tuck?”
Her eyes widened, the expression on her face a unique mix of shock, excitement, and disappointment. “My brother...” she whispered.
There was a knock at the door, and Tuck stepped in. “Hey, Ambrose?”
Elmira squeaked loudly and scurried out the door, nearly tripping over herself in her desperation to get as far away as humanly possible.
“What was that about?” Tuck asked.
“No idea.” He stood, brow furrowed with concern. “Is something wrong?”
“Nah, everything’s golden. We finished working for today, and DG suggested that we all go to the bar in town together. She said you should come along.”
Ambrose rolled his eyes. She had only been away from her parents for two days, and already she was going out of control. Still, the others had been working hard, and he didn’t want to be the sole voice of reason raining on everyone’s parade. “I’ll go...” He noticed the suppressed anger on Tuck’s face. “Did you... hear anything?”
“Do you know how hard it is to have your own family wish you were never born?” he asked, his voice bitter and acidic.
“In a way,” he said dryly, thinking of Lucas. “Did... your father raise you?”
“Hardly. I lived with Mom until I was nine. She died in that plague way back in the day.”
He remembered that. His mother had become completely paranoid about it and stockpiled clean water. Della’s father, the King, had died from it as well, though Della had sworn up and down that his killers were Ixian spies. Making up stories had always been her way of escape.
“I lived with... Eustace for a few months. His oldest daughter, Gail, was such a bitch.” Ambrose subconsciously checked to see if Elmira was still around, hoping that she didn’t hear the curse. “She hated me, called me the son of a whore, wanted me dead. Eventually, he kicked me out in an attempt to appease that cow, and... I went to go live with Wyatt.”
He paused. “That’s why I’m so jealous of Wyatt. He has everything I’ve ever wanted: A loving family, a steady job, supportive friends, the love of a beautiful...”
He trailed off, but Ambrose hadn’t really been paying attention in the first place. “I suppose it’s just the gods’ way of making up for all the bad things he’s had to deal with,” he said with a shrug. It sounded like something Augustine would say, and that made him a little bit angry with himself.
Fire and ice sparked in Tuck’s eyes. “Really? He’s been through some bad things? I was chained to a damn wall for a decade. I was beaten black and blue and red, hardly fed, had to fight for survival... I didn’t have a fancy magic life support system to keep me going. I didn’t have a ragtag team of misfits to save me. I didn’t get the glory. I didn’t get the fame. All I got was a ringing in my ear and scars on my face. Where’s my karmic retribution, Ambrose? Don’t I deserve anything?”
For the first time in his entire life, Ambrose couldn’t find anything to say.
Rating: R
Pairings: Cain/Ambrose, DG/Jeb
Warnings: Incest, rape, violence.
Summary: A fun, tearful family reunion takes a turn for the worse.
A/N: Refrigerator.
“I knew there was a catch.”
DG had a great talent for glaring a person down until the offending creature folded in upon itself and catered to her every whim. It was hereditary: The Queen had it, and Azkadellia had more than proved herself capable.
However, she had found her match in the form of Gertrude Cain.
Worried that the combined power of their glares would cause the wheat to catch on fire, Cain spoke up. “They only knew that Jeb and I were coming, Princess,” he said, speaking as calmly as he could. “It was sorta implied that we would help out.”
“It is the harvest season,” Jeb said helpfully.
She sighed. It wasn’t like she hadn’t helped out with farmwork before... But, Cain’s family didn’t even own a combine harvester! The thought of harvesting that giant field by hand... She shuddered, and wished that her arms would just fall off so she didn’t have to do it.
And then, she saw it.
“And this is what we’ll use-”
She stared at the item in Johan’s hands. “Is that... a scythe?” she asked.
He nodded. “Brand new, too. The old one... Well, Tuck said he lost it...”
“Can I see it?” He handed her the scythe, and she closely examined it. “I’ve always loved scythes. Popsicle had one, but he never let me use it.”
“I wonder why,” Jeb said dryly.
“I am the bearer of the scythe. I AM SCYTHE-BEARER! TREMBLE IN FEAR, WHEAT!”
Jeb sighed, but everyone but DG noticed the way he looked at her.
“Wow, this is really boring.”
Ambrose had always had a great talent for avoiding hard labor. Apparently, it was a trait he had inherited from his father, for Elmira had joined him soon after he had arrived in the shed, choosing to lean against the wall while he fiddled and played with the various machines that the Cain family owned, trying to find ways to make them better.
“Would you rather be out there in the fields?”
“... I’ll be quiet.”
But, he didn’t want her to be quiet. He had a million questions he wanted to ask her, and his father. Unfortunately, he was sure that he would never regain the willpower to confront Eustace again. Fortunately, Elmira seemed more than willing to tell him everything he wanted to know.
“So, you have sisters?”
She nodded. “Two older full-sisters. And Tuck’s my half-brother.”
“Where are your sisters right now?”
“Well, Emily went to the University, and Gail owns a shop in the city.” She frowned. “At least, that’s what Daddy told me. They don’t talk to him much anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because of Tuck!”
“What did he do?”
“Gail says he was born.”
“Quite a few people are guilty of that crime.”
“Tuck is older than Emily, but younger than Gail.” She shook her head. “That’s too much like math for me.”
Ambrose understood. Gods, he knew more about his parents than he had ever wanted to know. He pined for the days of his ignorant youth, where his parents were his parents and his family tree wasn’t as convoluted as a pretzel. A time where all he had to worry about was graduating from University and finding a date to the dance.
In his world of evil princesses that weren’t really evil and great ideas that went horribly, horribly wrong, those innocent days seemed unreal, like a story he had been told but never really experienced firsthand.
“Do you miss them?”
“Lots!” she said cheerfully. “Emily makes the best blackberry pies in the whole country! And Gail is very clever! She can do math with real big numbers. She can even multiply!”
“Do they ever visit?”
“Not really. Emily sometimes drops by when she knows Daddy’s off with Uncle Jo. Gail writes lots, but Daddy won’t let me see any of her letters.” She looked both ways, as if checking that no one was listening in on their conversation. “I read one, though, but I didn’t understand a lick of it. Ambrose, what’s a ‘dirty, sluttish bastard, I’ll cut your dick off?’”
Ambrose accidentally hit his finger with a wrench.
“It means... It means you should never say those words again. To anyone. Ever,” he said, visibly flustered.
“That’s what Daddy said,” she whined.
“So... You miss them a lot.”
“Dang, Ambrose! You sure do have a listening problem...”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “How would you feel if I told you that I was your half-brother? Like Tuck?”
Her eyes widened, the expression on her face a unique mix of shock, excitement, and disappointment. “My brother...” she whispered.
There was a knock at the door, and Tuck stepped in. “Hey, Ambrose?”
Elmira squeaked loudly and scurried out the door, nearly tripping over herself in her desperation to get as far away as humanly possible.
“What was that about?” Tuck asked.
“No idea.” He stood, brow furrowed with concern. “Is something wrong?”
“Nah, everything’s golden. We finished working for today, and DG suggested that we all go to the bar in town together. She said you should come along.”
Ambrose rolled his eyes. She had only been away from her parents for two days, and already she was going out of control. Still, the others had been working hard, and he didn’t want to be the sole voice of reason raining on everyone’s parade. “I’ll go...” He noticed the suppressed anger on Tuck’s face. “Did you... hear anything?”
“Do you know how hard it is to have your own family wish you were never born?” he asked, his voice bitter and acidic.
“In a way,” he said dryly, thinking of Lucas. “Did... your father raise you?”
“Hardly. I lived with Mom until I was nine. She died in that plague way back in the day.”
He remembered that. His mother had become completely paranoid about it and stockpiled clean water. Della’s father, the King, had died from it as well, though Della had sworn up and down that his killers were Ixian spies. Making up stories had always been her way of escape.
“I lived with... Eustace for a few months. His oldest daughter, Gail, was such a bitch.” Ambrose subconsciously checked to see if Elmira was still around, hoping that she didn’t hear the curse. “She hated me, called me the son of a whore, wanted me dead. Eventually, he kicked me out in an attempt to appease that cow, and... I went to go live with Wyatt.”
He paused. “That’s why I’m so jealous of Wyatt. He has everything I’ve ever wanted: A loving family, a steady job, supportive friends, the love of a beautiful...”
He trailed off, but Ambrose hadn’t really been paying attention in the first place. “I suppose it’s just the gods’ way of making up for all the bad things he’s had to deal with,” he said with a shrug. It sounded like something Augustine would say, and that made him a little bit angry with himself.
Fire and ice sparked in Tuck’s eyes. “Really? He’s been through some bad things? I was chained to a damn wall for a decade. I was beaten black and blue and red, hardly fed, had to fight for survival... I didn’t have a fancy magic life support system to keep me going. I didn’t have a ragtag team of misfits to save me. I didn’t get the glory. I didn’t get the fame. All I got was a ringing in my ear and scars on my face. Where’s my karmic retribution, Ambrose? Don’t I deserve anything?”
For the first time in his entire life, Ambrose couldn’t find anything to say.