Give me a word,
Give me a sign,
Show me where to look,
Tell me what will I find,
Lay me on the ground,
Fly me in the sky,
Show me where to look,
Tell me what will I find,
Oh, heaven let your light shine down.

-Collective Soul, Shine

14

War's gaze flickered constantly between the two immortal women sitting at the table, slowly eating the meal that Jessica had prepared for everyone.

He supposed that he should have seen this coming. John sat at the end of the table, while Jessica sat on his right with Death in between her and Sera as Abbygail sat across from Sera while Abbygail was beside War, Strife sitting on the other side of War beside John. Depending on the person, the hearty meal was disappearing. John and Strife were inhaling the food at an insane speed as War ate at a slightly slower rate to be more polite, while Sera, Abbygail, and Jessica ate at a more regular speed, Death pulling up at the end since he spent more time poking the 'noodles' on his plate with his fork and a scowl than eating them. And, strangely enough, it was quiet. The only two that had exchanged conversation so far was Jessica and John, where Jessica had been asking the old man how Strife and War had done. Mumbling, John had muttered something around his drink and no more words had been exchanged so far.

Yet.

"Eat." War looked up from his mashed potatoes, watching as Jessica glared at Death and pushed his plate closer to him, frowning. Death's nose curled. "You're not going to get over this cold unless you start eating and drinking. No one can fight off anything while being dehydrated and starving." She lifted an eyebrow. "And I've never heard of anyone not liking noodles. All I put in them was butter and salt."

"I feel like anything that you make for me to eat while ill is poisonous," Death complained, scowling at the noodles he had wrapped about his fork lazily.

"Aw, poor Deathy-Weathy is playing with his food!"

"Don't call me that," growled the Pale Horseman, glaring at the black-haired woman giggling beside War. "Besides," he added, lifting the noodles high once more to scrunch his nose up at them in disgust, "they taste funny. How am I supposed to eat something when they taste strange?"

"Everything tastes strange when yore sick. That's why I don't like gettin' sick." John grunted as he forked a mouthful of green beans into his mouth. He had yet to stop eating.

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Says the man who gets sick at least once every four months."

John smiled, the corners of his mouth wrinkling comically. Shaking his head, War turned back to his food. He was pretty much full by now... this was his fifth plate after all. Eyeing Abbygail's mostly full plate, he figured that was her second -he had expected her to eat more, being half griffin and all. Strife was on his sixth; he had announced his accomplishment when he had sat down with that one, claiming that all of the muscle he had needed to be feed while flexing an arm. Jessica had scoffed along with Sera.

War's gaze traveled to Sera, who was calmly eating still. The woman had hardly spoken all of supper, only making the occasional noise when someone spoke to her, which was hardly never. She wasn't like Abbygail. There was a tougher exterior around her, one that was noticeably spikier and thicker to where she allowed no one to enter her defenses at whatever cost. It was clear that Abbygail and her were friends, but War could tell that they were both hiding something from the other. But what? Admittedly, War was extremely curious to know what both women were. Strife obviously had a predication and War had a guess that even Jessica was curious, judging by the frown that always seemed to grow across the woman's face whenever Abbygail said something. Both women were guarded, though. Why, War wanted to know. As a Horseman, he wasn't used to valuable secrets like Earth's Guardians not being in his knowledge.

The wall that had broken through by the werewolf had been somewhat fixed and laid in the back of War's vision, due to the night settling in. John had made Strife and War help him put a tarp about the decent sized hole, later stacking several hay barrels in front of it. Strife claimed that it wouldn't be enough; John said that the Demons around here were stupid and, thankfully, wouldn't think about invading Jessica's home with the feared Goliath on portal. The dog had already taken the responsibility of guarding the soft spot and was dozing in front of it.

"Guess what people! I'm going for my seventh plate!" Strife announced, jumping up and darting toward the remaining food that was scattered across the counter.

"He's making me sick," Abbygail commented. "Someone make him stop eating. It can't be healthy at this point."

"I'm going to eat until I pop!" the White Horseman hummed.

War watched curiously as Sera's eyes narrowed and her face scrunched in a way that suggested that she was trying not to laugh. No one had even bothered to look at Strife but her; he had gone up to get food too many times for anyone to care. Besides, the number of glasses of wine that War had already consumed made it harder for him to notice things. He wasn't drunk, just buzzed slightly thanks to Jessica bringing a bottle out for everyone to try. It was fun almost, being able to get drunk once more. But, whatever that Sera was noticing on his brother was making it hard for her to keep her face straighter and he was guessing the alcohol was making it hard for him to see it.

"What's wrong with you, Sera?" Abbygail piped up from besides War, having noticed Sera's face as well. The dark haired woman had made herself comfortable; by pulling her legs up into her chest, she had leaned back into her chair and had placed one of her elbows on her knees, her other hand playing with her bangs, she had curled up in her chair.

Biting her lip, Sera gestured at Strife at the same time that he glanced back curiously to see what Abbygail was talking about. Currently, War saw absolutely nothing wrong with Strife. "Something wrong, ladies?" Strife hummed, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

As Jessica gagged playfully, the comical look on Sera's face disappeared, twisting into disgust, and Abbygail lifted a hand, shaking her head as she bit back a smile. "Don't flatter yourself."

Strife shrugged his shoulders, saying something about flattery as he turned his attention back to the food. Once his back was facing them again, Sera giggled again. This time, when Strife turned around, Sera wasn't able to contain her laughter and had to place a hand over her mouth to try and hold it in. Placing a hand on his hip, Strife playfully glared at her. "Is there anything that I need to know?"

Laughter was making it impossible for Sera to speak and she quickly shook her head. War's eyes narrowed in confusion when she began laughing once more after Strife turned away. This time she was able to speak though. "I see London, I see France," she choked out. "I see your heart underpants."

"Do what? You see my what?"

When Strife bent around to see what she was talking about, War finally understood why she was laughing. A brief recollection flashed through his head of when he had first noticed it, causing him to chuckle a little. There was a rip in Strife's pants. It was a pretty big rip too. What made things worse was the fact that the underwear he was wearing had little red hearts on it; that was a lot better than Strife not wearing any underwear, no matter how embarrassing it was for his brother. That would explain why she was laughing so hard. Death even managed to get a small chuckle out before he broke into a coughing fit. Just like how War had guessed, Strife's face turned bright red. He could always dish out the jokes, but he could never take them all that well.

His yellow eyes snapped up to Sera and a smirk suddenly grew on his lips. When he grabbed at his butt, as if to look at his underwear more, Sera only started to laugh harder. Her hands were grasping at the chair when he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back against the counter. "So why were you looking there in the first place?"

"Your ass was hanging out!" she laughed, not catching on.

"Oh really?" His eyebrow lifted and his head tilted to the side. "And did you, by any chance, like my ass hanging out if you kept noticing it?"

Abbygail cursed underneath her breath when Sera understood what Strife was referencing finally. The change was immediate; the woman's eyes narrowed, flashing purple dangerously, and her grip on the chair literally turned her knuckles bone white. A snarl formed on her lips, only increasing when Strife's smirk grew. "I wasn't noticing your ass. I was noticing the fact that there were little hearts on your underwear. What man wears hearts on his underwear?"

"One that is single and lookin'. You've obviously caught my advances." Strife winked.

"Well, I'm single and not looking."

Strife's eyes narrowed as the silence at the table grew. He glanced over at War and jerked his head at Sera, who had turned her back to him and was angrily stabbing at the remaining food on her plate. War, confused, pursed his lips and shrugged. Strife made another gesture at the back of Sera's head, one that was very inappropriate and contained only one finger, and a piece of bacon flew across the table from besides him. War glanced at Abbygail, surprised, and the woman just shrugged. The White Horseman glared at Abbygail as he returned to his seat.

"So...." Eyes turned to War and he struggled to come up with something, anything, to say. "What do the Guardians of Earth do?"

He knew that he had said the wrong thing the second that Sera's death glare turned from Strife eating to the now sweating War. Shit, why had he opened his mouth? When he glanced at Abbygail, wondering if she too was trying to kill him with her look, he was slightly surprised to find that she had began eating again. Stress eating. She was stress eating. It took him a moment to even notice it, but it became pretty obvious when she sighed, grabbed his plate, and began eating from his too with a forced expression on her face.

"What do you think that we do? We guard Earth," Sera spoke up, pulling his eyes away from Abbygail. "We do everything that you don't."

Death growled from beside Jessica; War scowled; Strife pointed a fork at her warningly. "At least I can keep my fu-"

"Shut your filthy mouth," the tigress hissed before he could finish.

Surprisingly, Strife didn't say anything, instead settling on giving her the evil eye as she straightened in her seat, thrusting out her chin proudly. Strife didn't stay silent long, though. Shoving some of the food on his plate around, he glanced over accusingly at Sera before leaning around War to look at Abbygial. "What does guarding Earth include?"

"None of your damned business."

Strife's yellow eyes snapped over to Sera. War blinked. The woman had hardly spoken; the second that Strife seemed to get engaged in a conversation, she was spitting and bristling. "What? I'm sorry, I thought that I heard something." Again, Strife leaned about War to look at Abbygail, jaw set, eyes narrowed. "So I'll ask again. What do you do as a Guardian of Earth?"

Abbygail glanced over at the fuming Sera before she leaned forward so she could see Strife. "Mostly just protect the Kingdom of Man from things that are dangerous to them that are not from this planet or keeping them from completely killing each other off. We keep the balance on Earth." When she said that, she looked at War and winked.

"Oh really? Can I guess that you stay busy?"

"Justice never sleeps," Abbygail responded with a small laugh. "Neither do we. But, Jessica." The woman in question perked up at her name being mentioned. "Me and Sera apologize for keeping that from you for those four years... There are some things that even we need to keep to ourselves. You have any questions, though, and we'll answer them the best that we can. Promise." After a second's thought, she waved her hand. "Hell, if any of you want to ask something, just do it."

Jessica shot an excited look over at John before looking over at Abbygail with a smile. "Okay, how long have you been on Earth?"

Abbygail shifted, noticeably uncomfortable. "Too long."

"Why are you here?" Death asked, his plate of mostly uneaten noodles long forgotten by this point.

Gold flickered through Abbygail's eyes and her eyes drifted away from Death's steely gaze. War was about to say something, either ask another question or shot Death a warning look, when Sera answered with an answer that left War's heart to freeze. "I don't know," she growled. "Maybe you should ask Strife for that answer."

Everyone turned to look at Strife curiously. The Horseman's face paled; the fork in his hand almost fell from his grasp in what War could only guess was pure fright. His Adam's Apple was bobbing in pure fright. It looked like nightmares were flashing through Strife's eyes and War cleared his throat, trying to advert the curious gazes to himself. He only succeeded somewhat. "Maybe we should ask what dessert is." He shot a desperate look to Jessica. The woman's head tilted to the side, confused.

The fork in Strife's hand had gone from nearly falling to bending in his hand from anger. The small moment had been enough for him to recover and a killing glitter had appeared in his yellow eyes, their death sentence focused upon Sera. "I don't have to tell you anything that I don't feel like telling you, darling."

"And I don't have too either."

"Hey, guys, chill out, yeah?" spoke up Jessica unsurely.

Strife's eyes narrowed suddenly and he leaned back in his seat, his plate of food suddenly not important to him. War steeled himself for what could come from his brother next. "Well, well, well..." He paused for dramatic effect, which was enough time for Death to growl warningly and for Sera to sit straighter, daring for him to speak. "Those are big words for a woman whose boobs are smaller than mine."

Faces fell around the room in surprise, along with Jessica's gasp of surprise, as Sera stood quickly enough to sling her chair back. The death look had appeared back in her eyes and, when she opened her mouth, her teeth were now pointed. Her eyes were the same shade of lavender that her tigress' had. "I'm glad that you think that way, asshat, because I think that you're talking big game for someone has to actually carry their guns with them. You trying to make up for something? Because I think you are. Your lack of balls is disturbing. Second off, what did you do? Sit down and measure your pectorals one day? That's really weird."

"Sorry to tell you this, darling, but my guns are with me all the time. I mean, if you want to see them, then you can because you might change your tone afterward."

"Right. If you had any, I'd rip them off," Sera bristled.

War cringed as Strife stood, his chair snapping back with the force that he stood with. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and was surprised to find that Abbygail was beginning to stand now, gold flashing in her brown eyes and her jaw set dangerously. Stopping her by grabbing her arm, War shook his head as Strife shouted out, "Why don't you just go and jump in some water, cat?"

"Fact check; tigers love water, dumbass! Why don't you just jump off a cliff! You would be doing the world a favor!"

"If I jump, I would be dragging you down with me too!"

"Good thing I can't die, thanks to you!"

"Thanks to me?! You're the one who did all of that shit! If you hadn't been snooping around where you weren't supposed to, then none of this shit would have happened in the first place!" Strife slammed his fist down on the table, causing the dishes to clink about the table.

Abbygail ripped her arm away from War, a furious gaze in her eyes. She glanced between Strife and Sera, obviously not sure who to be angry at. "Sera? What is he talking about?"

The woman's eyes locked upon Abbygail. All the anger dissolved from them, the lavender being replaced by blue as guilt appeared upon Sera's face. She ripped her hands away from their grip on the table and her eyes widened when she found that her hands had left imprints. Her lips moved silently as she stared at her hands. Before everyone's eyes, the welps healed and she cursed, balling them into fists until her knuckles had turned white. "It's nothing that you haven't heard before," she said, gritting her teeth. "There's just one part that I might not have said anything about."

"Yeah, go ahead and tell her, darling. Shine some light on the subject for her," Strife spat, making Sera shot him a quick glare. "Shine some damn light for everyone else in the room for them too, why don't you?"

"What the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?" John stood at his seat in a commanding way, his blue eyes flickering between Sera and Strife, who had returned to glaring at each other with death glares. "Ya know what? I don't give a shit. What I won't have, is the two of you fightin' underneath the same roof as me. I expect this place ta be calm when I come home after a full day of hard' workin' in the fields. I don't want two guests to be fightin' and have all hell break lose. I just won't have it." John stood straighter, hardly reaching Sera's height, and crossed his arms. "I'm gonna tell ya what's gonna happen. Ya two are gonna work tagether tomorrow."

"Do what?" Strife and Sera both yelled in unison, looking at John before glaring at each other.

John lifted an eyebrow. "Ya two are gonna work tagether so ya can get along tagether. Ya hear me? That simple. Ya'll work on the sheep. Maybe Sera can herd 'em sheep better ya can, ya idiot." Strife grunted in disagreement.

Sera's head tilted back and War could have sworn that her bottom lip quivered like she might cry. Her nostrils flared and she snorted. "I'm leaving." She turned on her heel and just left, causing a silence to grow about the room with her absence. War stared at where she had left before turning to look at Strife. He was surprised to find that his brother looked defeated, his face pulled into a tight expression before he too left, angrily hitting the back of his chair before wandering into another room.

<<•>>

Midnight came quickly. It seemed to almost swallow the house in its darkness and crept along every corner of each room in slow ways. Shadows became more noticeable as the fire in the living room was encouraged into a nice flame by the experienced hands of John before he settled down in a chair and began smoking from a small wooden pipe. The few picture frames that were hanging on the wooden walls of the home helped reflect the light coming from the fireplace and candles were lit across the room to create better lighting. Soon, the living room became a cozy, comfortable room from the rest of the chilly house.

It was where they gathered, mostly just to talk. Surprisingly, Strife hardly said a word despite the absence of Sera from the room. War worried about his older brother as he sprawled in one of the armchairs, his long legs thrown over one of the arms and his back pressed against the other as he cleaned one of his pistols in his lap. If he was spoken to, he just grunted, choosing not to answer with any words. But, even with Strife's strange behavior, War's concern was beginning to branch out toward the eldest of the brothers. Death was weak. He had hardly been able to stand from the couch that he had been lying on. Just standing had been a chore for him and he hadn't been able to reach the other side of the room without crumbling to his knees, sweating and shaking. Jessica had ordered him back to the couch and War could see the worry that was oozing from her as she laid wet towels on Death's head to try and lower his fever, ignoring Death's weak but persistent complaints, saying that he was fine and that she had better things to do than babying him. She claimed that he would get better, but War was beginning to have his doubts.

"Are you sure that it's just the flu?" Abbygail asked Jessica hesitantly as she leaned over the back of the couch Death was resting on. Her black hair had fallen from behind her ears, now free from its braid, to hide most of her face. What War could see of her brown eyes were full of concern. Slowly she reached down and brushed Death's cheek with her fingers, a small gasp escaping her as she retracted her hand from Death's restless form. "He's still burning up. Could it be something that's more serious than the flu?"

"I suppose that it's possible. I've heard of some worse things floating around, but never seen any of it myself," Jessica mumbled as she gathered the towel that was currently on Death's forehead into her hands.

"Remember what Sammy had, Jessica?" John spoke up from his seat once he had pulled the wooden pipe he was smoking away from his mouth for a second. "Do ya think that Death might have it? It's a long shot. Ain't seen it 'round in three years since the epidemic broke out and the cure came 'round. If it is, someone in town should be able to help him."

At the mention of the name Sammy, Jessica's hands faltered in wringing the towel. War noticed it clearly. He watched as she took a deep breath, her eyes flickering to one of the pictures on the wall, and then continued what she was doing in a more determined tone than earlier. Even Abbygail bowed her head a tad bit. Standing from the other couch in the room, War moved over to the picture that was on the wall that Jessica had glanced at. No one seemed too worried about what he was doing; they were all focused upon Death. War studied the picture silently when he was close enough. He knew John and Jessica, but failed to recognize an older woman, a blond man with a wide smile, a rather tall and built man with his arm wrapped about Jessica's waist, and then a little boy holding Jessica's hand. The boy shared Jessica's hair and face, but had the large man's eyes and smile. Their child maybe?

"Town's a three day travel away. We don't have the time during this year's season to go over there," Jessica remarked, her voice a little harsh.

A small silence grew. Death's breath caught, his hands gripping the couch a little more in what appeared to be panic, and War ripped his attention away from the picture with fear. Death dying. What a strange thought. Death, the Nephilim who had died countless of times before, was dying ever so slowly. Even Strife had looked up from cleaning his pistol, his yellow eyes wide as he struggled to sit up from the compromising position he had shoved himself into. John had stopped smoking, the gray smoke flowing from his pipe at a slow, lazy rate. When War joined where Abbygail was standing, he found the fear growing in his chest when he saw Death.

His brother's face had always been pale, but now it was bone white. When his eyes snapped open, panting furiously, his orange eyes were glazed over and the shaking had returned to his limbs. He appeared to be confused on who was standing over him before it seemed to click. Sweat beads were slowly rolling from his forehead as he closed his eyes once more, dry and cracked lips moving gently. "I suppose this means that I am deathly sick now," he said sarcastically, his words breaking from the effort. "Would have never guessed by this point."

"Haha, deathly sick. Very funny," Strife repeated with an eye roll.

Death's hand pried itself from the couch before gesturing at Jessica for one of the towels in her hand. Confused, she pressed the towel into his hand. A second passed while the Pale Horseman seemed to weigh the wet towel in his hand; then it was flying across the room, hitting the back of Strife's head with a wet thump. "I may be sick, but I can still kick your ass, little brother."

Strife scowled as he glanced over his shoulder to look at Death, who smirked at him. "Sick and on his deathbed and he still finds a way to get on my damn nerves."

The Pale Horseman chuckled, ending it with a coughing fit that racked through his entire body. Jessica, surprisingly enough, brushed some of his black bangs from his sweaty face with a caring air to it as she mumbled and placed another towel on his forehead. Death coughed a few more times before waving Strife off. "Am I always on my deathbed? Am I not Death?" He paused afterwards, letting his eyes turn up toward War and Abbygail to show them he was alright with a small smile before turning to Jessica. "I can fight off this cold without any cure. I am stronger than I look."

"No one doubts your strength," Jessica said softly.

"It's just the fact that you're an old bastard that worries them," Strife commented, pausing briefly in wiping the pistol's barrel in his hand, continuing after a second before tackling some more complicated dirt that was on it.

John grunted, reminding them all that he was the eldest there (the mortal at least), and Abbygail giggled slightly. "You're concerned about age, huh? I was here on Earth when Jesus walked it." Both Jessica and John's heads snapped toward her, surprise evident on their countenances, and the black haired woman gave them a wide smile. "Yeah, weird isn't it? I even played tag with Him once in the streets with the other little boys and girls. I even watched him... being... crucified."

The door opened slowly and War looked up to watch Sera walk slowly into the room, her walk slow and careful. Her eyes flickered over to Strife only once, her face hardening when the White Horseman turned away from her, becoming completely focused upon his gun with a wide scowl. "We taught those kids an early version of what you humans call soccer," Sera explained softly. "Watching Him being crucified was... awful."

Jessica frowned. "What?"

"Yeah." Abbygail's smile became forced and her hand brushed back some of her bangs behind her ear. "Strange, isn't it?"

"You actually... believe that?" Her voice was tight as she asked that.

"I find it harder to believe that there's not something out there like God," Abbygail said softly, folding her arms and resting her head upon them. "All you hear living in this world is 'I don't want to be a Christian because it's too much work' or 'How can you possibly believe in God when nothing's proven? Where's the scientific proof?' How can one even prove evolution? The only way I know of is to sit down for a couple of thousand years and make a list of every change in every species out there. I have to see anyone or a group of people do that. Personally, I've seen no evolution. I've seen only what God has brought. I've seen Demons from Hell, I've seen Angels from Heaven, I've seen Angels betray Heaven to become corrupted creatures, I've seen Demons unable to continue being Demons and become something similar to an Angel, and I've seen both Hell and Heaven influence the Kingdom of Man too many times to count." She lifted her head, turning to press her back against the couch and cross her arm, pursing her lips. "I used to think that being forced on Earth until the Charred Council thought our punishment had ended was like living an actual Hell, but I've had second thoughts. Earth needed us as much as we needed it and I'm not about to let it die through the hands of that ash. If it means that I have to sacrifice myself for the Kingdom of Man, I will. I can't begin to tell you how staying here on this planet changed me for the better, I believe. But hey, let someone shut me up already before I bore you. Now, who's going to town?"

Silence drifted around the room, John sitting there with a proud, smiling face while Jessica seemed almost stunned, her hand hovering about the bowl of cold water beside her. Strife, Death, and War hardly moved during Abbygail's surprise speech; they already knew of Jesus and God, right now it was about trying to find a hidden message behind her words. War was able to decipher that she was a strong woman with high morales, she did things by her own measures, and fought strongly for what she believed was the right thing to do, right or wrong. He suddenly understood why the Charred Council had placed her on Earth. If it kept the balance between Heaven and Hell on Earth, she would do it, deem it being drowning an entire village of innocent people or killing a thieving group. When she looked at him, brown eyes glittering with newfound strength, War found that he had a new respect forming for her already.

"Sera and Abbygail can go to town," Strife suggested.

"Ya just want her gone so ya don't have to be anywhere near her," John commented before anyone could agree. "I ain't havin' that happen. Ya two ain't slippin' through what I made final today."

Strife scowled and tossed his pistol onto the dressed beside him, ignoring Jessica's snort. "It was worth a shot, I suppose. The farthest away she is from me, the happier that everyone is going to be."

Death grunted as he sat up on the couch, eventually resulting on using War's arm to pull himself up the rest of the way. He was sweating more now and he kicked away the blanket that he had on all day from his legs. As he was rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, he leaned closer to War and mumbled, "In other words he's trying to deny the sexual tension between the two because he should hate her guts but in reality he feels rather attracted to her." War smirked in agreement.

"If Abbygail and I go, it'll be faster. We can get there and back in maybe two days instead of three if we don't stop," Sera said with a forced tone to her normally already strong voice. She sat down where War had been on the opposite couch, crossing her legs and arms as she tilted her head back. "Plus we'll be able to-"

"Ain't happenin'," John growled.

"I can still go," Abbygail declared, placing a hand on her chest. "If I change into my griffin form, I can be back in maybe two in-a-half days tops."

"But with half of the supplies that might be needed," Jessica spoke up.

Death grunted again. "I will be fine."

"No, no you won't. Not if it's that thing that Sammy had." Jessica shook her head, running her hands through her hair to pull it back into a brown bun. "It literally eats you alive. Even when you're healed, your immune system is so destroyed that it's possible that something else could kill you afterwards."

"I'll be fine. I've been through tougher things than that."

"Not this one." Jessica gave him a look before gathering the blanket in her arms and shaking her head. "I've seen too many people die already by this one cold. I don't want to see another."

War tapped his fingers along the couch as Death snorted, remarking that he wasn't a normal person. While those two argued, which was completely different from the way that Strife and Sera butted heads, War thought for a moment before smiling and silencing the pair. "I can go with Abbygail while on Ruin. We can pack things on Ruin and Abbygail's back and then continue without ever stopping for a break. If I have too, I'll nap on Ruin while we continue."

Heads nodded after thinking for a few moments. "Can yore horse make that journey though? Seems rough fer one horse."

"You would be surprised by what my horse can accomplish."

"I'm sure," John replied, exhaling a large cloud of smoke. "If that thing can run like it does workin' the plow, then it's slower than my ass decidin' ta run off without my legs."

"Because that's not strange," Strife scoffed.

"What's strange is that you don't have any balls."

"You start that again and I will strip down naked just to prove you wrong."

"That disturbs more than just Sera!" Abbygail exclaimed as the others in the room shouted loud in disagreement. "No one wants to see your shining buns!"

"Shining buns? The hell-?"

"Oh shut up!" Jessica laughed. "No one wants to hear you two bickering back and forth!" Everyone was still laughing when Goliath walked in with his tongue hanging from his mouth, tail wagging as he whined. The woman sighed as she took his head in her hands, laughing when he licked her face. "Ah, does someone want to pee? Okay, I'll take you out."

As she stood, Strife barked out, "Make sure that my shining buns don't flash you on the way out!"

"If you were at a beach," Sera started with a small smile. "And you were lying there out on the sand, I think that the people there would have to roll you out into the water because your buns are so white that it was blinding them."

Abbygail's laughter burst from around her hand and War almost jumped away in surprise. It almost sounded like she was crying. For a moment, War paused in his laughter to listen to the others. Granted, Abbygail's was probably the most distinguished with its nerd-like nature, John put her laugh to the test with his loud, uproarious mirth. Even Death was chuckling, too weak to do anything besides from that. War couldn't help but to start laughing again when he noticed the look of pain that had flashed across Strife's face after Sera had told him the beach comment.

"Well, at least people would notice them," Strife said confidently as he began cleaning his other pistol with the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

Once John had recovered from laughing, he placed his pipe back comfortably into his mouth and leaned back in his cushioned seat, laughter still hinting at the corners of his wrinkled face. "See now? Ya two can actually get 'long together if ya tried."

The two glanced at each other, blinking. Sera looked away from him first, shrugging as her eyes locked upon the carpet on the floor and seemed to grow very distant as her hands reached up to play with her necklaces. Strife's gaze lingered on her a little longer before he finally turned away to continue what he had started.

"Now, War, hear me out." War looked up to see John staring at him, the firelight dancing across his face, making him appear even older than he had looked before. "The town is a day and a half journey 'way. I know that Abbygail knows how ta get there." She winked at him playfully when he glanced at her. "But, when ya get there, ya're gonna have ta do somethin' a little bit more than gather than random supplies from some ole doctor. Medicine ain't what cures that shit. Hasn't been when it first broke out and still ain't. What cures it is magic. By a real witch too, not some stupid freaky bitch that ya found on the corner somewhere sayin' that they can read yore damn hand. If ya ask 'round fer someone named Mama, ya'll find yore witch."

"Mama?" Abbygail said before War could respond. "Do you think that's a good idea, John?"

The old man stared at the fire for a moment, busy with smoking his pipe, before he finally answered. "Jessica has to accept that they're gone and, even if she doesn't, she at least needs to make things rite with her mama. It wasn't Mama's fault that Sammy died."

Both Sera and Abbygail's heads bowed and Death finally asked the question that was bothering all of the Horsemen by now. "Who is Sammy?"

The side of John's mouth twitched. "Sammy was Jessica and Michael's little boy and my grandson. Mean little devil. He died about three in-a-half years 'go now after he caught a similar cold that Death has now. Mama wasn't able ta get here quick 'nough ta save him afore that cold consumed him. Little booger wasn't strong 'nough to beat it back." He paused, running a hand through his white beard. "That's why she's so touchy whenever that cold's mentioned. Also why she's babyin' ya so much, Death. She's scared. I ain't seen her this way since my son and Sammy died."

Strife stood suddenly, looking like he had seen a ghost. "I'm tired. What room is empty for me to sleep in?"

"Something wrong, Strife?" Death asked, eyes narrowed as he watched him curiously. When Strife's eyes flickered over to him, panic had rested in them and War narrowed his eyes in interest. Something clicked in Death and he propped an arm up onto the arm of the couch, trying to send a silent message to John. "Indeed. I do believe that it is time for us all to go to bed."

"Just take whatever room that is open. Jessica ain't gonna care and neither will I. We sleep in the bottom two; the rest upstairs are for anyone to take."

Strife darted up the stairs then, leaping up them two at a time. He had long since disappeared before the three of them- War, Abbygail, and Sera, at least, since Death was going to sleep on the couch- had even reached the bottom steps. "What's his problem?" Sera asked as they started up them, the wood creaking under their weight.

"No clue." War shrugged. He was just as surprised as the two women were. Apparently his brothers had been hiding something from him as well.

"It hurts him, clearly," Abbygail stated as they stopped at the top of the stairs. She frowned when she saw the rooms. There were five in total and Strife had clearly claimed the farthest away because it was the only one with the door opened. "I'll take whatever room. It doesn't bother me where I am."

"Same." Sera glanced around before walking toward the closest one and going in. "Good night." She disappeared before War or Abbygail could respond.

War glanced over at Abbygail. He wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do now. She apparently did. "We can leave whenever tomorrow," she began, placing her back against the wall behind her and leaning into it. "Doesn't matter to me. It'll be a long way though without sleeping. We don't know how much time your brother has either so we'll have to."

His gaze fell to the floor and he felt Abbygail's hand being placed gently against his shoulder. "Indeed," he said softly. "But I have gone through worse before."

"As a Nephilim," she reminded him.

"Yes..." He looked at her questioningly. "Speaking of which, what are you? You have yet to say anything about what species that you and Sera are." Abbygail hesitated and War decided to continue. "I understand that you are both from the same time as the Nephilim's reign of power-"

"Our species' name is Sri Moi. We're older than the Nephilim. You can sorta call us shape-shifters but we can only change into whatever animal that we are equal too in nature and personality. A griffin is loyal and wise, which is what I am. A tiger is fierce and courageous, what Sera is. Once upon a time we could die. Once upon a time we were the strongest species out there, more advanced than Nephilim were too." War looked at her in surprise. "Ever wonder why Absalom steered cleared of the galaxy beyond the Milky Way? We're why."

"Then why did they disappear if you were that strong? That doesn't make sense."

"Why did the Nephilim become nothing more than a legend?"

"Absalom set his sights upon Earth and the Garden of Eve," War replied in a rehearsed tone. "Yes, yes, yes. I know. I sent the Nephilim to the grave with my siblings. They were upsetting the balance. But what about the Sri Moi?"

Abbygail now was half hidden behind a door, only her face being visible at the side of it. She gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes as she slowly closed the door. "That's a story for another time, Red Horseman."

By the time that she had closed it, War was left with more questions than he had met her.