And another, a red horse, went out,

And to him who sat on it,

It was granted to take peace from the earth,

And that men would slay one another,

And a great sword was given to him.

REVELATION 6:4

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Helmer did not mention the dream to Sam until they had hit the road. The day was not so unbearable as the last, and they no longer felt as though they would melt right into the concrete.

"What do you think it meant?" Helmer asked, watching the sunlight glint on his baseball bat.

"I don't know. Abalone didn't come to me in a dream. Maybe we're getting close."

Helmer sure hoped so. He was getting tired of killing off towns of people. If it carried on like this, there would be no one left to murder when it came time to actually perform the job.

"Oh."

Sam noticed his tone and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I just... we'll be killing women. Children."

"I thought you were past feeling guilty."

Helmer swallowed. "I am, but only when I don't think about it. When I think about what we're doing, I start to feel sick." He sighed. "I'd feel better if I was only killing bad people, like criminals. Like a vigilante, you know? Not a terrorist."

"Everyone's souls are being sent to Purgatory for judgement. No matter what, everyone is getting what they deserve." Sam recited the lines like he had been trying to convince himself of the very same thing. "So you won't really be killing them."

"And what happens when this is all finished? When it's just the four of us left?"

"Zeus has promised to reunite us with our families in Heaven for our services." His voice was firm, but also longing, like he was wishing for the day he could leave all of this behind.

"Killing the whole planet gets you a ticket to Heaven?" Helmer scoffed. "Really?"

"We are being rewarded for our services," Sam repeated.

"And we're really trusting this guy?"

"I mean, he is God. He can't be wrong."

"I don't know," Helmer worried, tapping his fingers on his side. "It doesn't make sense."

"This is just one of those things you have to trust," Sam assured him. Suddenly, Sam's violet eyes lit up with childish wonder.

Helmer followed his gaze to an empty playground, the kind that teenagers hung out at after curfew. With most of the town evacuated, it was deserted.

Sam hit the ground in no time, bolting over to the playground.

Helmer and Abalone shared a look before jogging after him.

Already halfway up the rope ladder, Sam called out, "C'mon!" He clambered up the structure, wearing a wild, boyish grin. He looked five years younger, playing under the supervision of a parent.

Helmer reluctantly dropped his bat beside Abalone, who had nestled herself at the base of the plastic slide.

Sam went spinning down that very same slide, laughing loudly, his arms tucked at his sides for speed. He did a little leap at the end, stumbling a few feet, still smiling.

Helmer couldn't bring himself to chide Sam for his careless actions. They'd probably never get a chance to be kids again, so Helmer slowly maneuvered up the rope ladder and joined Sam atop the bridge. It wobbled beneath their feet.

Sam smirked and stomped one foot, rattling the whole bridge. Helmer clung to the railing, glaring playfully at him. Then Sam started jumping like a madman, nearly shaking Helmer off the bridge entirely.

"Stop it," Helmer complained.

Sam grinned and swung himself down to the ground, sending a spray of wood chips in Helmer's direction.

"You're being a child," Helmer called, but Sam wasn't listening. Eventually, Helmer climbed up the steps and went down the slide, secretly enjoying it. Abalone watched them disinterestedly, ears flicking whenever Sam accidentally doused her in wood chips.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Sam tired himself out, and they hit the road. They only had to kill off one town out of the two they passed through, which was a win in Helmer's book, but news articles depicted the government growing increasingly desperate to catch the 'terrorists'.

In the town of Medora, they directed Abalone around as to not arouse suspicion. There, they went shopping for new clothes at the local store.

Sam swapped his black shirt for a horrid orange one and a new pair of jeans. He also bought a matching orange scarf, which he wrapped around his wrist.

Helmer didn't change much, only buying a few pairs of jeans and some plain red shirts with black Nike logos on them.

Sam enthusiastically held up a white fedora, grinning. "For Abalone," he explained, while slipping it onto his own head. With the orange and blue he was dressed in, plus the white atop his head, the color combination made Helmer feel sick.

Walking past Perry Street Tavern, Helmer commented, "Hey, think we can pass as 21?"

Sam chuckled. "You, maybe. Me? Nah. Besides, I don't have my drivers license on me."

"Maybe if you did, you wouldn't have to constantly ride horseback, and I wouldn't have to walk."

Sam frowned slightly. "I like riding Abalone."

Helmer nudged his arm. "I'm joking."

Then Sam's face split into a grin. "Hey, there's a lake!"

True enough, there seemed to be a large oval lake in the distance. Sam was already gone, jogging in the direction of the water. Helmer reluctantly followed. They had wasted too much time that day, and he needed to find his horse, but Sam was laughing uproariously as he shed his new shirt and dove into the water, jeans and all.

"Is that really a good idea?" Helmer asked, rolling his eyes.

Sam stuck out his tongue, dripping wet. "I'm a good swimmer!"

"You say that now, but once we get back on the road, riding Abalone will be murder on your-"

"Language, young man!" Sam chided, splashing him with water. "We have little ears around!" To accent this, he clapped his hands over his ears, wincing as he touched the sunburned area.

Helmer would have been content to sit on the bank and read a book, but Sam cupped water in his hands and tossed it at Helmer, right in his face.

The latter froze, a droplet trickling down his nose. He leveled a glare at Sam, but he wasn't truly angry. In fact, this provoked him into ripping off his shirt and launching himself into the lake at Sam.

Sam shrieked and dove, arms pumping as he wiggled away from Helmer.

Helmer spat out water and shouted, "Face me, coward!"

Sam emerged, just enough to wink tauntingly at him before slipping below the surface.

The two chased each other around for a while, until both of them were exhausted. Sam floated on his back, his eyes closed, when Helmer swam under him and yanked him under.

Bubbles fled to the surface as Sam yelped in surprise. He poked his head above, spluttering. Meanwhile, below the waves, Helmer was laughing silently to himself, at least until he sucked in water and choked. Both of them coughing, they pulled themselves ashore and laid there for a few moments, breathing heavily.

Lying in the hotel room that night, Helmer couldn't stop thinking. For the first time in a few weeks, he actually felt human. He didn't know if he wanted to continue with the whole Armageddon thing now. It seemed wrong, almost, to give up that childish innocence he had felt today. He didn't want to see the hope drain from Sam's eyes.

Maybe it was too late for that.

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They started off early the next morning, Helmer determined to finally find his horse and get this whole thing over with. They set off at a brisk pace, the sun inching over the horizon in the distance.

"Have any more freaky dreams and stuff?" Sam asked as they walked. "Visions? Premonitions? Omens?"

"No," Helmer replied. "None of the above. We'll just have to keep looking."

"You know, I'm starting to think you're more of a Sam than a Dean. I mean, the visions and stuff? That's just Sam Winchester's character arc."

Helmer opened his mouth to retort, something about murder and the Devil, when a voice reached his ears.

You're going to miss the turn.

"What?" Helmer asked aloud. Sam stared at him, and he realized that the voice was merely inside his head.

Turn now, to your left. Wait, my left, your right.

Without a moment's hesitation, Helmer turned and headed off the road, down into the grass to the right.

"What are you doing?" Sam questioned, following him.

"Following the voice," Helmer explained. "It's the same one from my dream."

At that, Sam and Abalone picked up the pace in excitement. They walked for a long time, for what seemed like many hours, until the highway had completely vanished from sight. The shrubbery grew sparser, until trees were few and far between. Tall grass nicked at his legs.

Keep going. Don't let the scenery discourage you.

Helmer's heart began to pound. His fingertips tingled. The feeling only grew stronger as they approached.

Abalone tossed her head and whinnied. In the distance, a red smudge stood, form wavering in the heat. Details became sharper the closer they drew; four legs, attached to a powerful torso; massive hooves, wider than a dinner plate; a little white marking on the forehead, resembling a sword. Helmer's breathing turned ragged as the huge creature halted before them.

The mare was a beautiful thing, with a shiny coat the color of freshly spilled blood, her eyes an eerie white. She towered over Abalone by nearly a foot, her hooves twice the size of the other. With a long mane and rippling muscles, the Clydesdale mare was a sight to behold.

Hey, kid, she greeted, pawing the ground. She regarded Abalone, looking powerful and regal beside the sickly mare, then turned her gaze to Helmer. We'll make a good team.

"Oh my god," Sam whispered in awe, as he watched Helmer approach his horse. Abalone's ears flattened against her head. She was still wary of this newcomer.

When Helmer spoke, he tried to sound assertive, but his voice came out weak and timid. "Are... are you my horse?"

Who else could I belong to? the mare teased, sounding smug. Besides, I am communicating with you, am I not?

"I suppose so," Helmer chuckled. "What's your name?"

Aella.

"Aella?" he choked out. He barely recognized his mother's voice, seeing as she died when he was young. Now, she embodied the horse that would carry him across the battlefield; or, for lack of better word, slaughter house.

I see you haven't forgotten.

"I certainly haven't," Helmer snapped. "Why are you here?"

Zeus, God, whatever you wish to call him, sent me.

"Why did it have to be you? Sam didn't know Abalone. Why did you have to come down as..." He waved his hand at her new shape. "This."

I volunteered. I wanted to see my boy again.

"It wouldn't be a problem if you hadn't..." Helmer's voice caught on the words. "You stopped caring when he died. Why did you do that to me? I was a kid!"

I was in a bad place. I'm sorry.

Off to the side, Sam's eyes went wide. "You know her already?"

"Unfortunately," Helmer growled. In a tree, a bird screeched as its chicks devoured her alive.

I thought you'd be glad to see me again. Aella chuckled. Get to know me a bit.

"Not like this!" Helmer cried. The anger drained from his body, and his voice softened. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Fate is cruel, I suppose, Aella mused.

"You're telling me."

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