Picture was drawn by Saige16's friend! It's amazing!

If I told you what I was,
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous,
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because
Everything I touch isn't dark enough,
If this problem lies in me,
I'm only a man with a candle to guide me,
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me,
A monster, a monster,
I've turned into a monster
A monster, a monster,
And it keeps getting stronger.

-Imagine Dragons, Monster

15

"Strife, we're going to have a baby!"

He sat up straight in bed, eyes wide and his pistol in his hand, safety already clicked off as the gun pointed directly at the window that he was facing across the room. Adrenalin raced through his body and he recovered slowly, noticing with wide eyes how badly that Redemption was shaking in his hand.

The voice that haunted his dreams and used to be his life echoed through his head. How was he supposed to shoot something if one little voice bothered him that much? What if there was something in his room that was dangerous? Unsettled, he chucked Redemption to join his other pistol before burying his face into his hands.

"Damn it..." he cursed underneath his breath. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!" His voice grew every time that he cursed, but he could care less about who heard him or what they thought. "Damn all of this shit!" Ripping the pillow out from behind him, he threw it as hard as he could blindly. It hit the window with a unsatisfactory noise. "Just damn it all..."

Her name had been Turbulence. His mate. She had been so beautiful, his equal in everything that he had ever done. He closed his eyes and he could practically see her once more; beautiful green eyes stared into his yellow ones, a smile across her lips as she gave him a brief peck on the cheek, denying him what he truly wanted. Her blonde hair had been pulled back, giving him the perfect view of her gorgeous face. And he couldn't have her anymore. Not after everything that had happened. Not any longer. What would she think, anyways, if she was still here? Would she chide him for what he had become? Or would she wrap him up in her arms, placing his head on her chest and whispering soft things in her head to calm him? With her, he had never known what she would do in a certain situation and he had absolutely adored it.

And he had to kill her.

His hands tightened their grip on his head, pulling dangerously hard at his dark hair and threatening to yank them free. He yanked his grip away, settling his balled fists down on the covers of the bed and forcing his weight on his hands. It wasn't long before a red liquid began to seep through his fingers and he gritted his teeth to welcome the pain that was beginning to grow in his palms as his nails sank into his skin. He had to kill her. Kill them. Squeezing his eyes shut, he breathed a sigh through his nose as the memory flashed through his head, the pistol he had used painfully obvious from where it sat on the dresser next to his bed.
There had been a reason why he had used Mercy specifically for the... job. It hadn't been for her.

They hadn't done anything that night. When he had gotten home, he had just simply wrapped her up in his arms before lying down in bed, tucking her head into his collarbone and burying his face into her soft hair. She had told him then, when he had been so comfortable that he might have forgotten what he actually had to do if she hadn't said anything. But she did. Turbulence had whispered it softly into his ear, her little hands clutching his broad shoulders in excitement.

"Strife, we're going to have a baby!" she whispered, wrapping her arms about his neck and pulling him into her more with a wide smile. "Babe, we're going to be parents!"

His mouth went dry then as he remained where she had pulled his head into her. The weight of what he had to do crashed down on him then, smashing every comment that he could have ever said and causing his heart to squeeze tightly. How long had they talked the night away, whispering about a little boy or girl who shared his athleticism and her beauty? "That-that's great," he found himself saying despite the battle warring inside of him. "That's wonderful, babe."

She giggled, pulling him up for a quick kiss before pulling his head back down into her chest and dozing off with their arms wrapped tightly about each other. He had laid there, wide awake and unable to do anything else. For the longest time he stayed right there, listening to her breath. She was with child. Their child. Tears prickled at the corner his eyes and he pulled her closer into him, trying not to cry for fear of waking her up. He couldn't do this. But he had too. The Charred Council demanded that every one of the Nephilim kind was to be killed. Every one. He had bit, scratched, kicked, and fought his damned hardest to try and keep his mate safe. But they had said no. Any Nephilim not named Death, Fury, Strife, or War was supposed to be killed. Including his mate.

It was long into the night when he finally worked the courage to pry himself from her. For an hour he sat on the bed, clutching the side with his eyes closed and tears rolling down his cheeks, wondering if he could possibly do what the Charred Council was asking of him as he occasionally glanced back at Turbulence and her slightly exposed stomach with their unborn child. None of his siblings were in the same situation as he was. Death didn't have any romantic other, Fury had never mentioned anyone but neither had Strife, and War just didn't ever seem to portray any sort of emotions like that. Strife was currently the only one who had to kill someone that he loved. Turbulence wasn't even a fighter. She was a damn healer. That was how they had met; he had been shot through his hand and she had done the honors of wrapping it for him. Time passed -he made sure to receive countless of more injuries so he could return to her loving care- and eventually he had asked her to be his mate. It had been their decision to keep quiet, mostly because any relationships stronger than being friends were frowned upon. So they stayed silent. And now he had to kill her.

He finally stood. His pistols sat on the only other piece of furniture and he stared at them both, not sure which one he was going to use. It made sense, he thought silently, to use the pistol that made the most sense. Mercy. The metal seemed cold and unforgiving as his fingers wrapped around it, instinctively tightening about the trigger. The tears came to him once again, hitting him hard with what he had to do. But he lifted it, somehow finding the strength to do it.

So he stood at the foot of the bed, trying to lift to pistol. Mercy suddenly seemed so heavy; he had rose that gun countless of times to press it into the forehead of an enemy that he was mercilessly killing. But this was different. This was Turbulence. His beloved. His mate. The carrier of his child. He loved her until the end of his life. And he had to shoot her.

"God, please..." His voice cracked as the tears strengthen in their power. "Please have mercy on my soul tonight."

And he pulled the trigger.

A sob broke free from his control. His shoulders shook as he tried to keep it in. It was just so hard. Why couldn't life be easy? Why couldn't he have the easy, completely noticeable path? Why, why, why? Another sob broke through him and he attempted not to be too loud. Someone might hear him. Cursing life he was fine with, but someone hearing him crying? Real men didn't cry.

He went through the motions of getting dressed. He paused halfway through buttoning the plaid shirt and stared at the dresser before him, unable to find any reason to keep going. His gaze flickered to his pistols. When the first of those suicidal thoughts had began to plague him, he had been a Horseman and unable to die, unable to join Turbulence. But now... His hand wrapped about Mercy securely once more. Like before, the metal was cold and unforgiving. Somehow, though, it seemed promising and wonderful. As a mortal, he could return to Turbulence with just one shot with her free from the amulet Death had used to contain the Nephilim souls and him free of immortality. Just one shot. That was all.

"Hey, Strife? You getting up any time soon?"

Throwing down the pistol, Strife turned to see Sera beginning to open up the door. Her head peeked through and her eyebrow lifted when he saw his disgruntled expression and the way that his shirt wasn't buttoned all the way -hardly correctly either with one side longer than the other. Normally, if he hadn't had another nightmare with Turbulence in it, he would have commented on how her eyes glanced over his muscular torso. Those blue eyes narrowed when they saw his face.

"Who told you that you can enter my room uninvited?" he said, trying to appear angry as he fought to keep the emotions that were bubbling in his chest down.

Sera stayed where she was, her hand resting on the doorway. She still wore her purple sweater and the necklaces dangled from her neck like a prize. Trying not to appear obvious, he pushed Mercy closer to his other pistol. "Are you alright? It looks like you've been crying almost..."

"I'm fine!" he snapped, wiping his eyes quickly and turning his back on her. "Just leave me alone."

"It's not like I was trying to help you or anything! Sorry!" He flinched at the angry tone in her voice, trying to remind himself that he should feel sorry for himself, not her. The door slammed shut and he thought that she had left before it opened again. "By the way, if you don't make it down to breakfast in five minutes, I'll eat your portion of it since you didn't get your ass ready in time, Colonel Asshat."

With that the door slammed shut, causing Strife to cringe. Shit. That door closing felt harsh, cold. It felt like half of his life had been chopped away with Sera closing that. So much for making up and not fighting.

It took a couple more minutes for him to compose himself before he was able to finish dressing himself. He was in the process of leaving his room, plopping the cowboy hat that Jessica had let him borrow, when he ran into the said woman. He took note of her concerned and tired expression and frowned. "Is something wrong with Death?"

She looked up at him in surprise and Strife had the feeling that she wasn't upset because of Death's sickly condition. "Uh, no. He's up and talking at least." Jessica paused before biting her lip, looking slightly unsure. "Why is Sera so upset?"

"Hell if I know. She's the idiot who walked into my room uninvited."

"What?" Jessica glanced at him in confusion as he slipped by her, straightening his clothes as he started down the steps to the rest of the house. "What do you mean she walked into your room?"

"What does it sound like?" Strife commented dryly as he halted in his descent, looking up to see Jessica leaning over the railing in worry. "She walked into my room this morning telling me to hurry up and I told her to get out. That simple. You act like I shot her or something."

Jessica visibly relaxed when Strife told her what had happened. She sighed, running a hand through her brown hair. The one strand of white that was in there seemed more noticeable today and he couldn't help but to see how tired that she looked with the bags under her eyes. "It's not that, really. I was the one who asked her to come up and get you... She just doesn't tell anyone but Abbygail when something is bothering her. I don't know what to do with her while Abby's away. She keeps Sera in check and keeps the peace." Jessica gave him a pointed look. "When you and Sera are in the same room, you two create Hell." Strife shrugged, smirking. "Just... go easy on her for the next few days, okay? Who knows; maybe you two will start to give each other a chance."

"Right. Give her a chance. Do you know how hard that is when she pushes me away?"

"You push her away as much as she does you." Jessica frowned. "And you don't have to openly flirt with her like you do. Take it down a notch. You're scaring her."

"How can I possibly be scaring her?"

Placing her chin into her hand, a smug look grew upon Jessica's face as her eyebrow lifted and she pursed her lips, transferring all of her weight onto one hip with a sparkle of mischief glittering in her eyes. "Oh, I don't know. Some women don't really like their men flinging themselves at them with sexual comments flying the second that they first meet them-"

"I didn't do that-"

"And then insult them on how small their breasts are. Not many women find that appealing."

Grabbing the railing in front of him, Strife growled slightly before he managed to reign in his temper. It wasn't Jessica's fault that he was irritable today. And, truly, it wasn't Sera's fault that he felt like shooting a million holes into whatever creature happened to move on front of him. When he had dreams with Turbulence in it, he always became mad with the rest of the world. It's just what he did. It wasn't like he could talk to his siblings about her; he hadn't told anyone besides from Death -because he was the eldest and, well, Death just knew everything- and he really didn't want to talk his brother about feelings. That was something Death never portrayed. None of the Horsemen really expressed any emotion whatsoever; Strife tended to be the only one who's face is anything besides from frown or growl. So he bottled things up inside. He let them grow, let them evolve into whatever they could, and just didn't do anything about it. The occasional temper flare normally was devastating for anything around him. That's just what happened.

"She didn't have to start it."

"No, she didn't. But she did."

"Oh? And now I have to apologize for her shitty attitude? Yeah, I'm so not doing that, Jessica," he scowled, turning his back to the woman. "I'm not having this conversation with you because I really don't want to talk about this. It's bad enough that I'm being forced to do anything with her."

He began descending the steps and was surprised to find Sera at the bottom. Ignoring the hurt that had appeared on her face, he lifted an eyebrow questioningly as he paused where he was, two steps from the very last. He was about to ask what was wrong when she frowned, lifting a hand to brush away stray bangs that had fallen in her eyes, revealing them more to him. Emotion sparkled in their blue depths, the most that he had ever seen from her. Something began to worm its way into his chest. Pity, perhaps? Here he was, growling and snarling at this woman, when she was having just as bad of a day as he was having by the looks of it.

"You remind me of my father," she whispered softly. He looked down at her, his grip tightening on the railing as he struggled to remain eye contact with her smoldering, vulnerable gaze. "A total butt face."

And then she was gone.

<<•>>

"You know, as a Guardian of Earth, I bet that you've met some of the more famous humans, right? You said that you've personally met Jesus; what about King Arthur, Michael Jackson, President Teddy Roosevelt, that Australian guy who played Wolverine? What about any of them? Hm? Are you going to talk to me now?"

A white and purple striped tigress's tail snapped to the side, back tensing noticeably.

"I'll take that as a no. You're such a boring person. Come on, where's all of those tales that you've got to have as a Guardian, hm? You have to have something interesting to tell me. We could swap stories. Like those Girl Scouts do at campfires with horror stories."

The large feline halted, causing Turmoil to snort in surprise and freeze without Strife having to do anything, white ears turning toward Sera with interest. Strife was practically bouncing in his saddle waiting for her answer. He was so bored. The sheep happened to move rather quickly from pasture to pasture and he was beginning to regret ever traveling to Earth to accidentally become mortal. Mortal life, or at least human life, was so boring and uneventful. It had too many patterns and there were so many rules; he had to take showers to get rid of body odor that he never had before, he had to eat, and people expected different things from him. Death encouraged him to be as polite as he could be to Jessica -in the same sentence, Death had walked to the closest window, leaned out after taking his time to open it, and chucked his tea out that the said woman had brought him. So, if Death could do things behind everyone's back, sick or not, why couldn't Strife? War was already gone, traveling with Abbygail on Ruin to whatever town it was, and John was continuing the plowing that he and War had been doing the day before. Jessica was staying at the house with Goliath and Death to care for him as his sickness only made him weaker. That left Strife with Sera to herd sheep together.

And he was already bored.

If I agree, Sera started, her voice irritated in his head as the whiskers on her face twitched and her ears fell flat against her skull. Will you finally stop annoying me so much?

Turmoil snorted, turning his head away from Sera and playing with the bit in his mouth to create distracting noises, as Strife grinned widely, trying to appear as innocent as he could possibly be. "No promises. I just want something to do."

I could throw you off your stunning white Andalusian stallion; I'm sure he would appreciate the lack of dead weight.

Strife scowled as the tigress turned away from him, starting back up the hill that they had paused in climbing. He marveled for a moment at how large that the Guardian was; Turmoil was no small horse and her shoulders almost reached his in height, her paws easily the size of Strife's own chest in width. He had already seen her fangs a couple of times and knew from experience that they were insanely huge, probably sharp enough to rip through skin easily too. Surprisingly, there were no scars on her hide either. He had expected that as her position on this planet for her to have at least one awful scar. Her fur was fine, however, and shone with health with the sun that sat proudly in the sky. Her perfection was annoying him. It was tempting to draw one of his pistols and shot her in the back of the head to see if she scarred, but he planned on making it back for dinner tonight in one piece.

"Who goes first?" he spoke up when silence closed around them once more, not including the chirping birds and the shaking of foliage as animals moved through the brush.

I do not care, Horseman.

"Then I'll go first." Strife thought for a second, wondering what he could possibly tell her. "Death made our weapons from the flesh, bones, and organs from an ancient race that the Nephilim killed; he crafted them all by hand to be what they are now. He took ownership of Harvester, a prototype, Fury took her whip, Wrath, I took the pistols Redemption and Mercy, and War claimed Chaoseater. The thing is, though, that..." He paused, pulling Redemption from his belt and lifting it to gaze at it curiously. "They talk to us and, if the owner isn't careful, the weapon can consume you. Funny, isn't it? Something as powerful as the Nephilim devoured by something as simple as these weapons..."

Sera looked at him over her shoulder, slowing down after a moment to match Turmoil's pace. He could tell that she was interested. Her ears were pulled lazily forward and her numerous whiskers would twitch every so often, lavender eyes twinkling. How do they not then? How are you not some mindless zombie then?

"Maybe I am," he teased and her whiskers twitched as she snorted. "Personalities are matched with certain weapons so they don't do that. Death doesn't have to worry about that since Harvester doesn't do anything like that. Like its name, Wrath consumes anger and grows stronger every time that Fury grows madder, which is pretty often despite what she may tell you. Chaoseater strengthens with chaos."

And your pistols? I would assume that Mercy gets stronger with every kill and Redemption is just ironic?

"Well, they were just named that. I just needed something to call them." Thoughts of Turbulence once again arose and he shoved them aside, wanting to be at least a little more cheerful that what he was this morning. "Your turn."

The fur along Sera's back lifted a little; she knew that he was deliberately avoiding the subject. Her head turned back toward the little worn path that they were walking along. On their right was the fence to the pasture, on the left was a massive forest that was reaching up toward the skies, almost begging for them to come and explore its depths. Strife stared at it for a moment, wondering if the ash creature had gotten any larger and when they would actually do something to it. Without already knowing of the presence of the ash, he never would have assumed that something so dangerous and powerful could possibly be lurking there. If he looked close enough, he could have sworn that he saw the outline of a large deer standing proud just outside of the shadows, chest pushed out and ears lifted up high as the beautiful animal watched them carefully.

My people were very intelligent, Sera started, breaking Strife free of his thoughts. While we were no peaceful people, we were not a warring one either and didn't attack anyone for no reason. We were more interested in knowledge. My people were the first to take the sun's energy and use it to produce technology that the human's are not even close to doing; we discovered and made teleporting devices as well.

"You're kidding." Strife thought of the few that he could think of, first naming the Serpent Holes that Vulgrim used.

Sera bowed her head. Indeed. But some of us could do more than that. We could naturally learn and understand almost every language in the galaxy, which made things much easier for political reasons, and had a sixth sense for other beings. Those people became the leaders of our tribes that were just generations passed down from one son of the first of our kind. One of those said people were my father. He was the Alpha of our tribe, the Fire Tribe. My father took care of everything like a Alpha wolf does for his pack or how a King governors his Kingdom. Strife noticed her pause and stared at her as she continued walking, noting how her posture seemed more defeated than normal. Out of the five daughters that he had, only one of them inherited a sixth sense that would make them the Alpha.

When her voice trailed off, Strife glanced at her, his mind snapping the two pieces together. "You were the next Alpha of your tribe," he exclaimed, surprised. "So, you're a technically princess?"

In a way. The fur along her hackles bristled and she pulled back her lips to reveal her fangs, her pink tongue just visible. My father, however, did not want to accept that. I was the middle child. Normally, the eldest child takes the leadership role of the tribe and sometimes even the youngest has been given the position. Never the middle child. He came to the conclusion that our tribe was cursed; so, with the encouragement of his elders, he banished me from his tribe. Long story, I grew up on my own.

Strife looked at the tigress, watching as her body's sleek form jerked and snapped with every step. If he didn't know any better, he would almost say that Sera was worried that he would turn away from her since he now knew her past. Or at least part of it. She was scared of being pushed away. Suddenly, Strife found himself lost for words. Sera was opening up for him.
"What of Abbygail?" he asked after a few minutes.

Her tense posture left her immediately and Strife felt himself relax when Sera became more lighthearted and her steps became gentler almost across the dirt road. I do not know everything. I do know that she is from the Earth Tribe and that her mother died when gave she birth to her youngest sister. She took responsibility of her family and took care of her father when he sank into insanity.

"Her father went insane?" If anything, Strife found that he wasn't too surprised. It explained a lot; Abbygail always seemed to have an eye on everything when things happened and flinched whenever someone accidentally touched her arm or spoke too loudly. It seemed to explain why she was also so protective over everyone, why she packed such a punch whenever someone was hurt. How she dove just to kill that werewolf because it was going to attack War, someone she had only met once (War had explained what had happened earlier). It seemed to be in her personality to protect the weak and provided for others, and now he knew why.

When a Sri Moi finds a mate, it's a mental bond just as much as it is physical. We only have one in a lifetime. Hardly do we have second chances. Her attitude changed suddenly. There is something here with us.

It took a second for what she said to sink in. "What?"

There is someone else here besides from sheep and Orion. She halted, tail snapping back and forth dangerously, and crouched down when Strife reined Turmoil to a stop, already glancing around to see who could possibly be there. Her nose was twitching and she looked up at him, growling, as her lavender eyes locked onto the ditch on the other side of the dirt road. Human. Male. Doesn't appear to be aware that we're here.

"That sense thing you've got going on is pretty nice," Strife commented as he drew Redemption, gathering Turmoil's reins in one hand. "Are they dangerous?"

The tigress shot him a glare. And how should I know? The feline slunk over the grassy hill that they were on, slipping through the fence like it was nothing, and glided over the grass in three simple bounds. I'll take care of this.

Strife watched her carefully; she knew what she was doing. Normally he would rely on Turmoil sometimes to do something like that, with his animal senses and all, but the horse seemed much more concerned with cocking his hip to the side, lowering his head to nibble at the grass despite the situation. Sera continued over the hill until she reached the ditch, hunkering her large, purple-striped bulk over it carefully so her shadow wouldn't be noticeable to her prey. Once she was prepared, she lifted a paw high, her shoulders raising and tensing with extreme power as it raised through her, and her jaw fell open, lips pulling back into a silent hiss as her snout wrinkled and her claws unsheathed themselves. The memory of her sinking those through his chest flashed through him and he cringed slightly at the sight of them. He could only imagine what a swipe of those could do to someone when she truly meant it.

But then she did something curious.

Freezing, her lavender eyes widened and her ears fell back flat against her skull. The tense muscles that had been taunt to attack loosened in shock and the raised paw fell ever so slowly, her massive claws sheathing themselves as her body lost all of its power for an attack. Strife narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, confused, and he watched as a small hand appeared from the ditch, followed seconds later by blond hair and a smiling face.

"Kitty!" the little boy, who couldn't have been any older than three pulled himself up over the side of the ditch, called out. A beaming smile had stretched across his face, revealing the gaps in his teeth, and his stunning blue eyes were wide as he stared up at Sera with pure wonder. "Kitty!" he exclaimed once more, pointing at her in excitement. "Kitty!"

"What the hell? What's a kid doing all the way here?" Strife barked out as he hopped off Turmoil, slipping Redemption back into its holster. The Horseman hopped the fence and joined Sera's side, who hadn't moved the entire time from what he guessed was shock the boy had been struggling to pull himself up into the hillside. Strife held out a hand to help him as he crouched down to be closer to the boy's height and the little boy paused, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. He was lost in them for a moment -if his and Turbulence's child had been born, would he have had her green eyes instead of his stupid yellow ones?- but shook himself free to give the boy a welcoming smile. "Hey there, little buddy. Do you need some help?"

The boy blinked at him, hands buried in dirt and faced stained, and gave the Horseman an award-winning smile after a second, pointing at the statue of Sera. "Kitty!" Strife wondered briefly of the boy even knew who the hell he was pointing at. He was half expecting her to point off his finger.

"Yeah, that's a really big, really annoying kitty. Do you want to see her more?"

Nodding in excitement, the boy let himself slide down back to the bottom of the ditch before reaching out for Strife to pick him up. Strife did so, not helping but to notice how skinny the boy was. As he placed the boy back on the hill, ignoring the giggling that he was making, he glanced worriedly at the tigress. She had yet to move, her paw still suspended up in the air and her eyes wide in disbelief as she stared at the little boy. It wasn't until the boy threw himself at her leg, laughing still as he hugged it and giggled happily as he cuddled into her, that she woke up.
Lavender eyes turned to Strife, shock still lacing through them, as their owner placed a large paw on the little boy's back protectively, an obvious motherly instinct flaring through her.

Thomas, she whispered in a soft voice, still surprised.

Strife's gaze flickered between the two. "Is your name Thomas?" The little boy paused long enough in cuddling with her leg to peer at him for a few seconds, blue eyes sparkling with laughter, before giving him a few frantic nods and continuing what he had been doing before. "I don't think he should be here, should he?"

He has a father, Sera said in a weak voice, disbelief still painfully visible.

"I figured that he had a father. I didn't think that the humans could create offspring through reproducing spores yet. Don't know why they would want too; takes all the fun outta of getting the kid," Strife commented, hardly getting a reaction from Sera. "Where should he be?"

I would guess with his father... Sera trailed off, ears pinning back as Thomas giggled again, calling her kitty once more as he pulled at her thick fur. His father is constantly on the move with a rebellious group of humans... maybe Thomas was left behind? But Andrew isn't that type of person and, if that's true, Thomas's sister should be here with him...

"You never know. I forgot underwear this morning. How hard can it be to misplace a child?"

An aggressive snarl practically sent Strife sprawling back in surprise. He stared at Sera, who had became the exact picture of a terrifying, pissed off tigress. She looked about ready to bite off his head with her ears pulled flat against her skull, fangs bore into plain view for Strife to see as her lavender eyes became no more than a slit in her fluffed up face to appear more intimidating. Blinking, he watched as Sera returned back to the tigress that he had grown accustomed too as Thomas released a wail. The tigress huffed, obviously guilty, and shifted back into her human form. The White Horseman stared as the woman Sera transformed before him, his eyes fixating on her face as she closed her eyes and brought Thomas's face to cradle into her shoulder comfortingly as she wrapped her body about the little boy's protectively. From a battle-hardened feline of war, she had just became a soft-hearted mother in just plain seconds. What had just happened?

Slowly recovering, Strife pulled himself away from Sera and Thomas as the two hugged and Thomas calmed down after a while with a few sniffles. He set his jaw, making sure he wouldn't say anything he might regret later, and decided that his best option was to just sit there and wait until the two had finished their embrace. He studied them questioningly, trying to determine how strong their bond is and how they met, until Sera pulled away, holding Thomas out with a large smile on her face. "How's my little Thomas boy been doing?"

"Good, Kitty!" The little boy reached up, grabbing at her hair and pulling it slightly. A bit of pain flashed through Sera's eyes but she ignored it. "Where's Kitty?"

"Kitty's going to be away for a little while, okay Thomas? Sera has... has some things to explain to stinkhead over here."

"What?"

Thomas looked at Strife with wide eyes, still propped up on Sera's lap. He had to admit, something stirred in his chest seeing this softer side of Sera; he felt like he was seeing an entirely different person without all of her defenses up. "His name is stinkhead?"

"No!"

"It sure is, Thomas boy. His name is most certainly stinkhead." Sera's eyes twinkled with mirth as she looked at him, smiling at his cry of distress.

Thomas pointed at him proudly. "Stinkhead!"

"What? No! My name is Strife, kid!" He gestured at Sera, who was lifting an eyebrow in a taunting way. "She-she's insane! Don't listen to her!"

The little boy and Sera exchanged a look. At the same time, they said, "Stinkhead."

Growling, Strife glared at Sera as she and Thomas giggled. His eyes were still locked on the woman as she brushed back some of her bangs out from her blue eyes that looked were a similar shade to Thomas's, a large and gentle smile on her face as she shifted the little boy on her lap as he placed a hand in his mouth. "Thomas boy, could you leave me and Stinkhead alone for a moment? Can you go play for a little bit?"

Thomas blinked at her with his blue eyes, busy sucking on his knuckles. "Okay, Kitty!" Stumbling to his feet, the little boy wandered off toward Turmoil. "Pretty pony!"

"I won't correct his terminology," Strife commented sourly, glancing over at Sera, who was watching Thomas intently.

The woman looked at him like she just noticed that he was there. Both were still sitting on the ground, Sera sitting back on her heels and Strife simply sprawled as he sat up straight. Tipping back the brim of his cowboy hat, Strife took the moment to take in Sera differently than what he had been. He took her in as though he was looking at an attractive woman. There was a pleasant glow to her face with the presence of Thomas and she noticed things quicker with a new purpose. She looked alive. For a second, he tried to picture her as the tribe princess that she apparently was. He failed to see any sort of crown on that woman's head at all; the pride that she carried without any of her species by her side would probably be diminished with such an object.

"Hm? Oh, well, there wouldn't be any point with it. Thomas can be stubborn," Sera said softly, already becoming stiffer with just his voice alone. They both cringed when Thomas pulled Turmoil's forelocks and the stallion's nose crinkled in pain.

"I figured so."

A small silence enveloped them before Sera's sigh broke it, the woman shifting as she ran a hand through her short hair. Her eyes flickered between Strife and Thomas. "I suppose that you want to know where Thomas came from."

"From a man and woman? That's what I'm assuming anyways. Wait, don't tell me, lemme guess; Thomas is your long-lost child." A flash of pain so noticeable that it surprised Strife greatly flickered across Sera's face. She turned her head away, her teeth grinding visibly and audibly. Strife's eyes narrowed in suspicion before it clicked. As his face fell in realization as Sera finally worked up the courage to look back at him, emotions bubbled up inside of him once more. His little baby. Turbulence. The same pain that he felt for losing his mate and his own child was reflecting itself in her blue eyes just as strongly.

At the same time, they both said;
"I'm sorry."

They stared at each other in surprise. In the background, Thomas could be heard giggling as Turmoil snorted in amusement as the little boy pulled at his reins. Strife cleared his throat, suddenly unable to look at Sera. "Uh... how many?"

The side of Sera's mouth twitched, making the tears sparkling in her blue eyes more noticeable. She played with her fingers for a moment, her gaze locking on her slim hands, before biting her lower lip and looking back up at him. "Two. A boy and girl," she managed to whisper despite how much her voice was breaking. "You?"

Looking away, Strife set his jaw. "I never got the chance to meet them."

"Oh."

"Kitty! Look at the pretty pony!" Thomas bounced up as he called out to them, yanking a reluctant Turmoil along with him. Sera and Strife shared a look; Turmoil did not look all that happy with his gray eyes narrowed and his nostrils flaring wildly as he hung his head to match Thomas's height. "Isn't the pony pretty, Kitty!"

"The pony is very pretty, Thomas," Sera said softly as she stood, her voice weaker than normal. "Thomas, would you like to see Auntie Jessica?"

Thomas cheered, reaching out for Sera instantly.

"That's Jessica's nephew?" Strife asked in surprise as Sera picked the little boy up, placing him on her hip without a single though. He walked up to her, ignoring her defensive stiffening posture, and reached out to ruffle Thomas's blond hair, causing the little boy to laugh some before burying his face into Sera's neck. "This little guy is related to Jessica?"

"Thomas is Jessica's older brother's youngest child," Sera answered coolly, appearing to try and control how uncomfortable she was with how close Strife was to her. "This is Andrew's little boy. His little football star," she added after a moment, bouncing him a little to make him giggle.

Without even thinking about it, Strife reached out, taking Sera's elbow lightly as if to let her know, and took Thomas from her grasp before she could realize what he was doing. She looked surprise as Strife lifted him up and placed him right on the back of Turmoil in the middle of his saddle. "You know how to ride a horse?" Turmoil's head swung around with a look that would have once turned the White Horseman's blood cold. Thomas, however, looked excited as he shook his head and grabbed the saddle horn to keep his balance. "Wanna learn how?"

"Yeah!"

"Strife, Thomas doesn't need to be on a horse! His father would kill me-"

"Not like it matters, darling, he ain't here. What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Strife rolled his eyes as he pulled himself up onto the back of Turmoil, settling down behind Thomas with some space between them. He looked down at Sera, placing a hand on his hip before patting the saddle in front of him with a wide smile. "Now come on, we can't let Kitty walk alone, can we?" Turmoil was shooting daggers by this point.

Sera narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms, cocking a hip to the side. "I think I'll just shift into a tiger."

"Not gonna work this time, darling."
Her left eyebrow lifted and her head tilted to the side. Again, something stirred in him and he tried to ignore the feeling rising in his chest as he hid it with a smile -today was apparently an emotional hayride for him. "And how exactly would you stop me from not doing it?"

"Thomas, do you want Kitty to ride with us?"

"Kitty! Yes! Pretty pony!" Thomas blurted all almost in the same sentence as he bounced a couple times in excitement, blond hair shaking. Turmoil grunted and snapped his long white tail back and forth a couple of times in displeasure.

"See? Thomas wants you to ride with us."

"Backstabbing little kid," Sera mumbled under her breath.

Strife leaned toward her playfully, cupping his hand over his ear. "Oh? What was that? What did you say about Thomas?"

"Shut up!" Sera slapped at his leg, nervously walking up beside Turmoil. Thomas was ready to go; he was babbling pointlessly as he pointed about Turmoil's raised head and would occasionally pull at the horse's mane. Strife was just beginning to enjoy Sera's hesitation around his horse when she finally sighed, glaring at him. "I don't know how to do anything with a horse."

"Darling, it's simple. I'm a Horseman. I know all that's there to need to know about. I can teach you my secrets." He held out a hand toward her, giving her a small smirk. "All you have to do is trust me."

Blue eyes turned up to him, the nervous glint still settled in them. Slowly, however, she lifted her slim hand and hesitantly placed it into his much larger and slightly scarred hand. And, surprisingly, he didn't feel any betrayal toward Turbulence when he pulled the woman up into the saddle in front of him. He let her settle herself in the saddle before he made himself comfortable behind her. Smirking when she tensed up when he was situated behind her, he reached around her, again smiling at how uncomfortable she was, and untied Turmoil's reins from the saddle horn under Thomas's grasp. Leaning forward, he rested his chin against Sera's head as he wrapped his hands about hers once again, allowing her to take the reins. For a second he marveled how slim she was, keeping his hands firmly over hers, before leaning back and smiling at how red she was.

"Turmoil moves from both reins and your heels, but I'll take care of the footwork. All you have to do is steer him."

"U-uh, how?"

Again Strife leaned forward, this time resting his chin upon her shoulder. Sera's face turned even redder as the White Horseman once again took her hands. "This one turns you right and that one turns your left. Whichever way the horse's head is going, I can guarantee that will be the direction the horse is going to go. Most are too stupid not to. Turmoil will listen to you, darling, since I'm here."

"O-okay," Sera stammered, making Strife smirk in amusement. "I think I've got it."

"Hm, do you really?"

"I-I'm pretty sure..."

Strife couldn't help it. He breathed slightly on her ear and across her neck; she shivered and turned her head away from him, her eyes squeezed shut almost adorably so. "Am I making you... flustered, darling?"

Her mouth opened and he saw her lips begin to move just as Turmoil's head jerked over to the side. Strife ignored the stallion's actions; he gripped Sera's hands a little tighter and was about to place his lips against the back of her ear when he heard an almost deafeningly familiar clicking noise of a gun's safety being taken off. He froze, eyes flickering over to the direction of the noise the same time that Sera did as well, frozen to the spot, her head tilted to the side and her elbow lifted a little, prepared to snap back into his chest. Thomas seemed oblivious to everything and just kept babbling.

Everything after that happened so quickly. One second Sera was still in his arms and the next a tigress was exploding away from him with a furious roar. He heard Thomas's scream as he fell backwards off Turmoil as the stallion reared in surprise; the second he felt the small boy's arm he pulled Thomas into him, tucking him safely into his body as Strife rolled across the ground to lose his hat in the process. Another gunshot echoed through the air and he heard a feline's howl of pain. Fear shot through him as he sat the now crying Thomas on the ground as he yanked free both Redemption and Mercy, aiming them at the intruder near them.

He was surprised to find a woman standing, surprised as she clutched at her bleeding arm that had three claw marks running down her forearm. Her eyes were a vivid green, freckles dotted her cheeks, and her blazing red hair fell across her shoulders in twin strands. A purple trench coat hung from her shoulders, covering the dark shirt and black jeans underneath. Laying nearby was a tigress already taking her first breaths again after dying. A gun, a rifle by the looks, laid near Sera's feet.

Aiming both of his pistols on the woman, Strife growled out, "Who the hell are you?"

Those green eyes turned up toward him, pain and shock evident on both her round face and eyes. "I am Valir, and I am here for Thomas."

I'm so sorry for the wait. Things are only to worse though, guys. Our internet got turned off at home and I'm only to be visiting a library once a week. I can't update at a steady pace anymore guys, sorry.