Author's Note: My apologies for the long time lapse since the last update. I've been rather busy in real life... as always, Godchild does not belong to me. Nor do any of the characters. On a different note, a big thank you to everyone who reviewed, subscribed, and favorited! Reviews make me all warm and fuzzy inside. It's been great writing and getting all this positive feedback. You guys really make me feel loved. It's been fun!

I'm planning on writing a sequel to this. Be on the lookout for it... it may be a while, but it will come! The tentative title is Revealed. As you'll see, there's a few plot points yet to be resolved. (Please don't hurt me for not resolving them. Please? Thank you for your non-violence.)

Now, without further ado, the last chapter of Rebirth!

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Chapter 2: Heaven

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I awoke to a throbbing headache and small aches that had nestled in the extremities of my body. How long had I been gone this time? The fact that I still had a body quickly chased away my most unreasonable fear... that I had abandoned Lord Cain for the oblivion of death once again. I tried to sit up, only to have my movements immediately restrained. I could barely get myself an inch off of the mattress.

So this was why I was alone. Crehador had tied me securely enough that he felt I was no longer a threat. And Lord Cain... hopefully, he was still asleep, and I had only been unconscious for a few hours. I looked around the room, trying to find something to loosen my bonds, some way that I could free myself and check on Lord Cain. But Crehador had been far too thorough for that, and anything that held a possibility of freeing me had been removed from the room. It was completely and utterly empty other than the bed and the single chair that Lord Cain had sat in.

Once again, I went through the motions of sitting up, this time testing the strength of my bonds instead of actually expecting to get up. If the only person that was inconvenienced by this was myself, I would have contentedly stayed where I was. But I had eight years of service to make up to Lord Cain... and the sooner I could see him again, the sooner I could assure myself that he was well, the better.

Whatever Crehador had used to bind me, it was strong. Even with the strength I had gained from stealing Lord Cain's blood, I wasn't going to be able to break free just through brute force. That was good. If I couldn't break my bonds, neither could Riffael. But now that I had recovered, I needed to be free. It didn't seem right for Crehador to be so petty as to simply leave me like this... I doubted he would do such a thing. But he, too, could have changed in these eight years...

No matter. Whatever his thought process had been, it didn't matter. Far more urgent was my need to escape. If the bonds were loose enough to give me an inch, perhaps I would be able to work my way out of them. I could still bend my legs, so that was the first thing I concentrated on. Once my feet were as close as I could get them to the rest of my body, I slipped them through what had formerly bound them. It had worked. I had to admit that I was a bit surprised. So now that the lower part of my legs were free, I could try to free my head... then my arms... and slowly I'd work towards the middle of my body. I'd be able to just remove myself from my bonds at that point. Theoretically.

I had managed to free only my head in the next few minutes, and then the sound of footsteps made me freeze. What would Crehador's reaction be when he found me partially escaped from his bindings? With luck, he would realize that I was rational once again, and allow me to see Lord Cain. I heard the click of a door opening, and tilted my head upwards in an attempt to look at Crehador as he entered. Often, a first reaction was what revealed the most about a person's innermost thoughts. What was he thinking?

But the figure that greeted me wasn't the man I had expected. "Lord Cain," I greeted him quietly, dropping my head back down as he froze in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of him. The blank look that had been on his face showed that he either hadn't been expecting to find me, or hadn't been expecting me to be tied up. I assumed it was the latter, because his usual languid pacing became quick, and he had soon stood at my bedside, where I could look at him without straining the bonds I had yet to escape from.

I couldn't have been unconscious for long, because Lord Cain still had bruise-like circles under his eyes. At the most, I had been gone for a few days. But from Lord Cain's slightly ruffled hair and hastily thrown on clothes, I guessed it had been less than that. Probably a few hours at most. Lord Cain had awoken, and... immediately come to my side. "You should be resting, my lord," I said calmly. At least I was able to turn my head without being impaired by my bonds. My neck was still strapped down, but more loosely than it had been, allowing me to look at Lord Cain without too much struggle.

He didn't respond in any way. Instead, he bent down, unbuckling the straps from the bottom of the bed and unwrapping them calmly. I didn't feel any need to break the silence, so I simply sat up when the bonds had been thrown off. Lord Cain went back to the single chair in the room, sitting properly upright, watching my actions. We both remained still for a second, his face unreadable as he looked at me.

No doubt, though, he knew exactly what I was thinking. He shouldn't be awake. He had tilted his head down, and I wondered if it was from exhaustion. That was more than likely. "Lord Cain, if you would..." my voice trailed off as he raised his head again, his eyes burning on his face. My suggestion that he return to his chambers died on my lips. Perhaps it was an effect of the pallor over his already-fair skin, but his eyes seemed brighter than they ever had.

"Riff," he said calmly, his voice stronger than I had expected. He was choosing his words deliberately, but that appeared to be the only reason for the small pause in his speech. "You promised to accompany me to hell, right?"

What was behind this question? Did it matter? There was only one answer. "Yes, my lord." And I would repeat that as many times as he needed to hear it. But I almost wished I could amend that vow. He had already been through hell. Now... now I would accompany him to heaven.

"Good." That was his cursory response, but he seemed satisfied. His gaze was less intense, but he still kept his eyes fixed on me. I didn't know what he wanted of me, but he was obviously still ill, from exhaustion, lack of proper nutrition, or any number of causes.

"Lord Cain, if you would return to your chambers, I will prepare tea," I said calmly, pulling myself slowly off the bed and into a standing position. Perhaps, after tea, he would be able to be persuaded to fall back asleep. It was obvious he still needed it. It was only then that I realized where I was... or, rather, where I wasn't. This wasn't the Hargreaves mansion. I didn't even know where Lord Cain's bedchamber was. He stood, but didn't move. Instead, he looked me up and down, sizing me up. Perhaps I was different than his eight-year-old memories. Then a smirk travelled across his face.

My confusion must have been plain on my face. He said slowly, once again running his eyes over me, "I remember you being taller." That brought a small smile to my face. He had grown in these years: though he still wasn't near my height, he had reached a man's stature. I thought briefly, with a touch of amusement, that he would no longer be able to masquerade as a woman, as he had long ago, to reveal the truth behind his supposed personal doctor's identity. Long ago... in a way, that was when we first began the descent into hell. Jizabel Disraeli had appeared, and he did his best to pull Lord Cain into the darkness that he had already drowned in. That had been the start of it all... the first appearance of the mad doctor, the first mention of Lord Alexis's survival, the first whisper of the name "Delilah."

But that was no more. Delilah was gone. Lord Cain could live his life free of the shackles that had bound him since his childhood. I would make sure of that.

"How beautiful. Something like that makes me simply... want to rip it apart." A low chuckle filled my mind, and quickly following it was a sense of Riffael's cruel amusement. Why... why did I feel that way? Was his power over me growing stronger as I regained more of myself? "I did that already, of course. And I do hate to repeat myself. But it would be simply breathtaking to see again." My breath caught in my chest, and my knees grew weak. It was as if I was being pulled away from myself... brought to the prison of my own mind. "It wasn't me that broke him. That was you. You left him." I couldn't even argue with him. He was right. I had betrayed him... I had...

"Riff!" I was vaguely conscious of a hand on my shoulder, and of Lord Cain's voice, but nothing else from the outside world could affect me. It all was merely a whisper compared to Riffael's overpowering, omnipotent presence. "Riff..." His voice was fading away, as I became more and more aware of Riffael's presence. My other self was no longer a specter of himself, a haunting shadow in my mind. He was a puppetmaster, pulling the strings of my body in a way that only served his twisted means.

"Did you really think I would come back to you?" I heard the words come out of my mouth before I was conscious of speaking them. Now I was the outsider, helplessly observing, watching Lord Cain's body freeze, his face stiffen, his eyes grow wide with shock and then dull with something akin to hopelessness, while I... my body... stood over him, smirking. No. Not again. Never again. I wouldn't let anything happen to Lord Cain. I would protect him. Always. Even from myself. Especially from myself.

"You're a weak boy, using mystique and illusions to hide your uselessness and utter..." I heard my body choke as I forced my consciousness over Riffael's, cutting off his poisonous words. The corporeal, solid feeling of having a body rushed over me. I was curled up on the floor. I couldn't breathe. Someone was calling my name and shaking my shoulder.

I closed my eyes before I had realized they had been open. I was in control again. For how long... I didn't know. Lord Cain had crouched before me, but I didn't trust myself to move towards him. It would be so simple to break him... this precious young man that I had guarded throughout my entire existence. There was no phrase to describe that realization. To realize that the person that I equated with my life was...

"Easily eliminated, like a bothersome insect. Especially with those poisons he's so fond of. It would be so horrible if your mind were to... slip... for a second. Something could end up where it wasn't supposed to be..."

Perhaps it was better for him when I had been simply a memory. I had betrayed him once, and I was on the verge of doing so again. Perhaps I was better off dead. I was another reminder of eight years ago... a broken, deadly doll, in all senses of the words. But if I wasn't here... what would happen to Lord Cain? That innocent boy had already suffered so much. I no longer knew if I was protecting him or prolonging his agony.

"Riff... please..." I had never heard such a pleading tone in his voice. What had taken me over? This wasn't Riffael's influence, but rather my own weakness. I was being selfish. Lord Cain... needed me. And until he no longer desired my service, I would be his.

I opened my eyes again, and met his gaze. Slowly, moving carefully, as if I could break the man in front of me with a single movement, I sat up. There was nothing I could say to him. I had betrayed him yet again, and I couldn't even bring myself to ask for his forgiveness. He shouldn't forgive me. Even if I had fought Riffael back, like I had eight years ago, I still betrayed him yet again. Slowly, I sat up, unsure what to say, or even if I should attempt to say anything at all.

Lord Cain, as well, remained silent. He hadn't even moved since my collapse. Slowly, his eyes closed, the blank look on his face replaced with something akin to acceptance. Whatever that look meant... it wasn't right. I couldn't allow him to be in pain over anything I had said. "Lord Cain," I said gently. The right words had finally come to me. "I will not accompany you to hell, my lord. I will protect you from it, with my life, if necessary." My body, my life, my entire self... I had always belonged to him in my entirety. He was more to me than I could comprehend. And even if I... no... Riffael... was causing his descent into hell, I would protect him.

Cain remained frozen for a second. Then, before I knew what was happening, he had clutched my shirt with one hand, his forehead resting on my shoulder. I recognized this... and I was almost relieved. That innocent boy I had loved and protected since I had first seen him was still in this man. He had always done this... when he was hurt, he always came to me. And for that boy... for this man... I would do anything. And I would make sure that I would always be there for him.

The door slowly squeaked open, and Lord Cain remained resting on my shoulder for a second. In that moment, I saw Crehador's face go through a range of expressions. All of them muted... he wasn't one to reveal his emotions... but he started at rage and ended in confusion. No doubt he was furious that I had escaped the bonds he had placed on me... and rather unsure about what to think of the position he had found us in. But Lord Cain quickly straightened himself, and looked the medium in the eyes. His face, as always, was composed. Only his eyes showed his anger... and even then, I wasn't sure if the emotion was visible to anyone but myself.

"Lord Cain," I said, attempting to placate him somewhat. He was, no doubt, unhappy that he hadn't known what had been done to me. But I would have done the same thing, if I could. Anything that could protect my lord would be done unfailingly. It was almost reassuring to know that Crehador had thought the same. At least Cain hadn't been utterly abandoned these years...

"You escaped, I see," Crehador noted dryly. He had regained total control again, and was looking unflinchingly at me. If he could see the anger in my lord's eyes, he was ignoring it.

"Lord Cain, it was for the best," I said quietly. Crehador wasn't helping matters, but perhaps I could make Lord Cain see the truth. I had lowered my voice deliberately, so Crehador wouldn't be able to hear me.

"Oh yes, for the best. Certainly. We wouldn't want you to be... naughty... would we?" Riffael interjected with a laugh. I forced his voice back down in my mind. Not now.

"For the best?!" Lord Cain responded softly to me, his eyes narrowing. "You don't deserve to be treated like that."

"I believe I did, my lord. It was the most reasonable thing to do to protect you," I asserted, responding in the same volume. I most certainly deserved to be treated like as I was. I deserved that, and much worse, for hurting him... for abandoning him... for failing him.

A small frown passed over Crehador's face when I looked at him again. But nothing of what he thought was spoken aloud. Instead, he simply said, "I would like to talk to Riff, Cain. Alone." Cain almost glared at him... an expression I rarely saw from the ever-impassive lord of the Hargreaves. But this... this was important. Further fighting between the two of us would only lead to harm for Lord Cain.

"Certainly," I said smoothly, before Lord Cain could say anything. A smirk flashed across Crehador's face, but it was gone almost too quickly to tell it had been there at all. Lord Cain simply nodded his acceptance, apparently trusting my judgment. Crehador had been the one to bring me back, and no matter how much he despised me, he wouldn't take me out of the world again. He wouldn't do that to Cain... at least, I believed so. He cared for Cain more than he hated me.

With one final glance at me, Lord Cain stood and left the room, closing the door behind him. I wouldn't be surprised if he went no further than the threshold of the doorway, but it appeared Crehador was thinking along the same lines. The medium walked briskly towards me, and I stood slowly. Lethargy was gripping me again... I felt almost as I had been when I had first awoken, before Lord Cain had revived me with his blood. Did that mean...

"Well. Riffael," Crehador said calmly. I stiffened immediately when he referred to me by my full name. I was not Riffael. Riffael was my cruel self that I suppressed, the one that had to disappear if Lord Cain was ever going to be truly safe. I was Riff. The name that Lord Cain always called me by... and my true self. Even if I was... artificial. I was real, because I had Lord Cain.

"Riff," I corrected calmly. I felt a slight stirring in the back of my mind. Riffael... speak of the devil, in the most literal way possible. But for now, he didn't comment. Unusual. It seemed he was listening.

"Perhaps at the moment, you are," Crehador responded coolly, his eyes narrowing. "But not always. I have been with Cain for eight years... and I was with Delilah in its final days. Do you think I wouldn't know what you meant when you said that name?"

I had said...? Then I remembered. In the last moments before Riffael had taken over, I had desperately needed to communicate the danger that I had presented to Lord Cain. But I thought I had been ineffectual... I thought he wouldn't know what I was saying. But to know that someone else had learned of Riffael... it was... I didn't even know what to think. Part of me was shocked. Another part felt relief. But mostly... "If you know what I am... you must know how to suppress him."

"Ha. You would even turn to this man? It won't be that simple. It isn't possible, Riff..."

"I know nothing of the sort," Crehador responded tersely. I heard Riffael's laughter echoing in my head. Was there truly no way to rid myself... to rid Lord Cain... of this demon? "But..." the medium continued after a second, "... there may be another who does. There once was, at least."

What? I wasn't even sure what to say. There was someone who could suppress Riffael. A small sliver of hope flared up, but it was quickly extinguished as I focused on his next phrase. There once was. This person, whoever he or she was, was gone. Dead? No doubt, if this person could suppress Riffael, he or she had died with Delilah. Justice? She had created the person I was now, and suppressed Riffael, certainly. But why would Crehador even bother to mention the possibility if the only person who could do it was irretrievably gone?

"I am leaving again soon," He stated calmly. "I don't trust you alone for a second with Cain. But he... he would trust you with anything." Another small frown passed over his lips. What was the emotion I saw on Crehador's face? It was unidentifiable. Something, perhaps, like jealousy... or maybe remembering something painful. Perhaps he was remembering the one that had been closest to him, once. That woman, Sheila... his lover. The woman who, no matter what she said, turned to him in her moment of need. The woman I... no, Riffael... had killed.

"That's touching. Does that mean that whore's love for this medium is equal to your Cain's feelings for you? At least the way you interpreted it." A small chuckle interrupted Riffael's statement, and he continued on, his tone obviously mocking. "Is that what you wish for? The child that was cast out of the Garden, caught in a web of sin and sodomy. How appropriate..."

"Enough," I growled under my breath, not meaning the words to be vocalized. Nor had I meant for any reaction to be visible... but I had clenched my fists. As soon as I realized what I had done, I relaxed my posture, concentrating on becoming impassive once again. I couldn't let Riffael take advantage of me and manipulate my emotions as he liked.

Crehador had been watching me closely. Now that I realized he knew of Riffael, I felt more exposed under his stare. He knew what my blank gaze meant. Surprisingly, though, he made no comment. Instead, he simply looked down at his hand. A delicate emerald ring was resting on his palm. "Cain had made a request of me. And I intend to fulfill it." The medium picked hooked the ring on the tip of one finger, inspecting it slowly. "I have a tea party to set up."

What...? I looked more closely at the ring as he set it back in his palm. A small ring. As if it had belonged to a girl or a petite young woman. Before I could contemplate that fully, Crehador turned and left the room, tucking the ring back into the pocket of his pants and sweeping a top hat onto his head. A top hat? What he was wearing wasn't like him. The black suit, and equally dark top hat, looked more like something Lord Cain would wear...

And then I remembered.

"When this is done, and I get back, we'll have a tea party in the garden," I paraphrased slowly. Lord Cain had said that... and that ring was familiar. That ring had been Mikaila's... and before that, Suzette's. I knew it had come into Lord Cain's possession. That was part of Riffael's memories, not mine. Lord Alexis laughing as he recounted how his little creation had transferred the ring to Miss Maryweather's possession, and how his 'daughter' had given it to Cain as a protective charm. But why now, after eight years? If Lord Cain had survived, then why did Crehador wait so long to reveal that fact to Miss Mary?

I heard footsteps, and I tore myself out of my thoughts. Had Crehador returned again? No... Lord Cain was framed in the doorway. He was unreadable for a second. Then a smirk passed over his face. At that moment, I could see him as he once was. I didn't notice the shadows under his eyes or how these eight years had aged him. I saw the innocent boy and the beautiful young man I knew so well. And then I understood why Crehador had waited.

After all this time... after eight years... Lord Cain had finally been reborn.