PART 1

Fury blinked at the sight of her eldest brother hauling in their struggling youngest under his arm like a sack of potatoes. While it wasn't all that unusual, especially when War needed a bath, it was strange that the youngling didn't look particularly dirty this time.

"Let me go!" The little Nephilim growled. The Firstborn glared at the child, "No. You are going to get your hair fixed right now. I have had just enough of your wailing!"

War whined, "But I want to go and play!"

Death roughly shook the squirming bundle, "You want to go and play? Fine, I'll just cut off all your hair then." Their youngest sibling gasped in horror, "No! Don't do that!"

"Then behave."

The eldest deposited the sulky War into Fury's lap and a comb in her hand, "Fury, could you? I do not have any more patience to deal with the mess in his hair. You seem to have a magic touch for this."

Fury laughed, "Of course." She combed her fingers through War's mane and frowned when she encountered a mess of knots. "How did this get so tangled?" she asked while slowly detangling the nest in the child's hair.

Death heaved a great sigh, partly from exasperation and partly from relief, "I don't even know. I will come back later to retrieve him." With that, he left their little abode. When she was sure Death was out of the earshot, Fury turned to War, "Now, how did you get your hair looking like a roc's nest, little one?"

War squirmed uncomfortably in her lap and mumbled something under his breath. His sister paused, "Come again? Don't mumble, I can't hear you."

"... Strife said he could make my hair look like yours…" He replied rather unhappily.

Fury raised a brow, "Is that so?" her grip on the comb tightened, "I will have some cross words with my dear brother then." She growled. Blue eyes widened in panic as her youngest sibling turned to her, "Please don't! Strife said he would tell everyone and make fun of me!"

Purple eyes softened as Fury affectionately petted War's head, "I won't, little one. Just don't let Strife trick you like that again." Her mind was made up though, she will teach Strife a lesson he won't forget!

They lapsed into a comfortable silence while Fury continued to gently unravel the knots in her brother's hair. War then turned to look at his older sister again, "Fury?"

"Hm?"

"Will my hair ever look like yours?" Ah… so here was what started it all… she wryly thought.

Fury struggled to keep her laughter in, "Most likely not, there is only a small number of our kin who has this kind of hair. Why ever would you want hair like mine?"

The child sighed, feeling a little dejected, "It looks so nice." Fury felt flattered. She never thought much about her strange floating hair, it wasn't the biggest of her worries except sometimes getting in the way of training. Death used to help her comb through her mane when she was younger, but even it puzzled him the way it seemed to defy gravity at times. Eventually she was left to care for it on her own which wasn't such a big problem as long as she maintained it on a regular basis.

War's face scrunched up as his elder sister hugged him and kissed his cheek, "You are too adorable, little one." She laughed.

"I'm not cute and I'm not little! I'm going to be a big strong warrior one day like Death!"

Fury chuckled, "Of course, little one." She ran the comb through War's hair once more to make sure no knots remained and petted his head before lifting him off her lap. "Up you go. We are done here." She then stood and took his hand in hers. "Let's go find our brother then."

PART 2

"Oof!"

Fury turned to look at the young nephilim she reversed tackled onto the ground. "War! Don't startle me like that! You could have gotten seriously hurt!" She waved her gauntlet covered hands at him, "How many times have I told you?" she scolded.

Bright blue eyes looked up at her as War got up and rubbed his aching backside. He grinned, "Not enough for me to not do it again." His sister 'hmphed' and ruffled his white hair. "Cheeky little imp. Strife is rubbing off on you."

"Hey!" The youngling warded his sister's hand off his hair. "Stop that!"

Fury grinned evilly and suddenly trapped her little brother in tight headlock while rubbing her metal-covered knuckles onto his head, "Stop what? I can't hear you..." she teased.

War yelled, "Stop messing up my hair! Fury!" He kicked and squirmed to no effect. His sister tackled him to the ground, "Do you yield?"

The young nephilim glared defiantly as he continued to struggle, "Never!"

"Too bad." Fury cackled as she easily flipped him over and started poking and tickling his stomach, being mindful of her claws. War tried to bravely hold it in, but it was all too much. He started laughing and squealing, "Fury! Stop! Stop! I can't breathe!" His sister backed off while War laid on the floor trying to catch his breath.

"Pfft!" War huffed, blowing some hair away from his face as he sat up. Fury chuckled at his state, "Now what did you want to ask me?"

"Um…" her younger brother scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Fury raised a brow expectantly, "Well?"

"Uh…" War pulled a comb out of his pocket and gave it to his sister, "Could you… Could you help me untangle the knots in my hair? I got most of them out, but I can't untangle these ones." She looked at his hair suspiciously, "Did you go swimming and let your hair dry without combing it through again."

"… Yes…" he mumbled. Fury clucked her tongue in annoyance.

"Why not ask Death?"

War frowned, "He threatened to make me look like Strife if I came to him for help one more time…" he paused, "...And he yanks on my hair… You're gentler."

Fury laughed as she pulled War in front of her and gave him her gauntlets to hold, "Alright. You'll have to sit in front of me, you're a bit too big to sit in my lap anymore."

"I'm not that big!"

PART 3

(A/N: I have no specific timeline for this except for the fact that this is after War got his arm cut off.)

It had been a long time since they had last met, let alone had a mission together. As much as he can maintain his hair with his one good arm, this was getting a little ridiculous. The golem-like arm while useful when bashing open treasure chests and ripping out hearts of their enemies, is completely useless when it came to more delicate work. Like combing out the tangles in his hair. At least she was least likely to laugh at him for it.

War was not one to fuss with his hair much. It wasn't a priority, between his hood as slight protection and some occasional brushing, it was fairly easy to maintain. However, some tangles accumulated over time and it was getting more difficult to comb through.

He felt his sister's arrival even before seeing her. "War." She greeted him with a slight smile. "It's been awhile."

"Fury." He replied, "You're mission went well?"

The Black Rider breathed a sigh of relief, "For the most part. I am glad to be done with those pompous angels." Her brother let out a deep chuckle at the statement.

"So, I suppose you have something to ask of me?" Fury looked at him expectantly, "You're not one to call for nothing but small talk."

War grinned, "I can't spend time with my favourite sister?"

Fury punched him lightly on his shoulder "I'm your only sister, cheeky imp. What is it you want to ask?"

War pulled a comb out and handed it over to his sister, "Could you help me comb out these knots in my hair? I've done as much as I could given..." Her brother looked pointedly at his golem arm. The female nephilim sighed, frowning as memories of that incident was brought to surface. Fury shook her head to clear her mind then ran her fingers through her brother's mane, smiling fondly, "Did you not brush your hair through after going swimming again?"

War grumbled, "I did not have the time and before you ask, no, I will not ask Death."

"Alright. Alright." Fury chuckled as she pulled the Red Rider to sit on the floor in front of her and handed him her gauntlets before starting on untangling the knots. They spent the moment in silence with War occasionally fiddling with the gauntlets in his hands as he did when he was young, while Fury combed through his hair. She gave his hair one last comb through before petting the Red Rider's head to signal that she was done.

"You're the only one who can pet my head like that. Don't tell Death or Strife." War growled, lacking any real menace behind it. Fury grinned and petted his head affectionately, "Your secret is safe with me."

Her brother turned to look at her before standing and pulling her up in the process, "Thanks Fury."

She smiled, "You're welcome, little one."

"I'm not little anymore." War's face twisted in distaste.

"Of course, you'll probably flatten me if you tried to sit in my lap." His sister teased. She couldn't help it, her youngest brother made it too easy.

"Fury!"