Ch. Forty-Five

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."

- Jim Elliot

                                                                                       ***

The only reason Sirius knew he'd been knocked unconscious was because he found himself waking up. A blazing white light seared his vision and he raised a hand to shield his eyes, squinting against the brightness. The air around him sizzled, making him feel like he'd just been run over by Helios' chariot as he sat up. His clothes smoked lightly and the blood that had dried on his arms turned tacky, liquifying under the intense temperature. The stone beneath him radiated heat, making him wince when he placed a palm on the ground.

A small moan beside him had him looking down to find Galloway sprawled on the ground. Her skin was red and blistered, even peeling in some places. Logan lay a few feet away, his clothes singed and his skin burned. Sirius pushed himself up to his knees, shuffling forward to hover over Galloway. He lifted his hands, but was afraid to touch her.

While he hesitated, she opened her eyes and frowned.

"Ow," she croaked. Her chapped lips cracked, the blood that beaded up evaporating as she used Sirius to pull herself into a sitting position. She tilted sideways, leaning against Sirius' chest, holding up a hand to shield her eyes as she stared at the gate. "Oh my God."

"Are you okay?" Sirius asked, wrapping his arm carefully around her waist. She flinched, but didn't pull away from him.

"No," she whispered before she placed her hand on his shoulder. "Help me up."

Sirius wasn't entirely sure his legs would even hold his weight, but he wasn't about to tell her no. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip on her, heaving them both up. His legs shook, but he locked his knees, keeping the both of them standing with sheer willpower. Galloway's breath rasped in his ear, her fingers digging into his shoulder as she fought to stay upright.

A gleeful laugh echoed off the baking stone around them. Groans behind them made Sirius looked over his shoulder. Rhys and the Hunters lay sprawled on the ground, their faces and arms marred with red, angry-looking burns. Rick was the first to recover, propping himself up into a sitting position. His mouth dropped open, his eyes widening in horror.

Sirius licked his cracked lips and slowly faced forward to confront what he had allowed to happen.

Whatever had caused the explosion had made the gates split like a peeled banana. They curled inward, barely hanging from their moorings on the bone pillars. The blue fire that had clung to the scrolling metal had gone out, leaving an eerie red glow in its wake. But the worst thing Sirius could see was the giant fissure that had appeared.

The floor beneath the gate had cracked itself in half, destroying the pentagram that had guarded the opening. A ragged gash ran through the stone, wide enough even Sirius felt nervous about attempting to jump it. Even more worrisome than that, though, was the howl of sound beginning to echo toward them.

The explosion had been like a siren, letting every trapped thing down here know they suddenly had a one-way ticket to freedom. Lingering would not be wise.

Galloway's knees buckled and she clung to Sirius, making him stagger at the unexpected weight. He wrapped his arm more firmly around her waist, but knew it was a losing battle. Carefully, he lowered her back to the ground, letting out a startled grunt when she wrapped her fingers in the collar of his shirt, jerking him down with her. She met his eyes, hers huge and glassy.

"How do we close them again?" she whispered, her attention sliding back to the gate. "How do we..." A choked little sob tore at her throat and tears suddenly streaked down her face. "How do I fix it?"

A rolling chuckle met Sirius' ears and he shuddered as the air moved right behind him. "That's the beauty of it," Hades whispered against his hair. "You don't."

Galloway shuddered, her eyes meeting Sirius'. He shook his head mutely. He didn't know how to fix this any more than she did. Her lips parted like she was about to say something, then she shook her head and closed her mouth. Slowly, her attention shifted to where Hades was still standing behind Sirius.

"You lying bastard," she screamed, lunging into Sirius, her hands clawing at Hades over the Hellhound's shoulder.

There was a hiss of pain before he was knocked backwards as Hades grabbed Galloway, dragging her over the top of Sirius. She let out a cry that was abruptly cut off in a nasty gurgle. Sirius flipped onto his stomach and lunged to his feet, a nightmare playing out just a few bare feet in front of him.

Hades had Galloway by the throat, held just inches from the god's face. Her hands clawed at his wrist, her feet flailing at the air. Bright golden lines stood out on Hades' cheek where her nails had gouged his skin. He frowned up at her. "I never lied, Galloway."

Sirius staggered forward, the darkness surging around him as he called it. He was going to tear Hades into tiny, bloody pieces.

"Stop," Hades said, the word drawn out and petulant. Sirius froze in a ridiculous posture, reaching forward with one hand, all but balanced on the toe of his right foot. The darkness chittered, ebbing around him. "Just stop, Sirius. Really."

Galloway was slowing, her movements becoming spastic. She batted weakly at Hades' face, making him look up. "Oh, I'm sorry..." He frowned. "Where were we?" Galloway's eyes fluttered and he smiled. "Right."

In a smooth, quick motion, the god lowered her to the ground, tipping her head back. Sirius' vision washed red, then black as Hades leaned forward, his fangs sinking into Galloway's throat.  A shocked little gasp met his ears and all he could see was the bead of blood that slid down the pale skin of her neck, pooling in the hollow space just between her collarbones. 

He began to struggle, straining violently against the bonds of Hades' order.

Everything around him disappeared. Everything turned black except for the image of Galloway's frightened eyes. The glimmer of tears. The way her pupils where so blown out there was nothing left of the iris save a thin silver lining. The only thing he could hear was a wretched keening that he knew on some level was coming from somewhere deep inside him. After everything, this was going to be the thing that destroyed him.

He couldn't let it destroy him. There was nothing he could do.

So, he turned to the darkness.

Help me, he begged, pulling desperately on the strands of darkness in an attempt to wrap it around himself. Please, help me. Stop him. Let me stop him. Do something! Help me do something.

The very air seemed to fracture around him. Everything froze, the moment holding its breath as the darkness rushed in around him, picking him up off the ground and freeing him from Hades' paralysis. He flailed at the darkness, clawed hands trying to grab it, to draw it nearer, draw it into him.

Quietly, Sirius. Quietly. The darkness slithered around his throat, warm and smooth as silk. We see what you desire. 

So give it to me! He snarled, baring his elongated fangs at the nothingness around him.

What you want, we cannot do. A strand of darkness stroked his cheek. Ask for something else.

I can't, Sirius hissed, clawing the darkness away from his face as his temper roared red-hot through his veins. There is nothing else to ask. Nothing else I want. I need him gone. I need your help. Blood ran down his cheek, immediately brushed away by the darkness.

We cannot do this, the darkness whispered in his ear, strands brushing through his hair like fingers. There are rules that must be observed.

Fuck the rules! Sirius thrashed in outrage, trying to claw his way back to the real world. How much time had passed? How much of her blood had been spilled? I don't give a damn about your rules.

Precisely, it hissed. Ask us for something else.

Sirius' mind was blank, everything wiped clean by the fact that he knew Galloway was just feet away from him. That she had Hades' fangs buried in her neck, and there wasn't a single, bloody thing he could do about it.

I can't fight him, Sirius said, sickened by desperation. You know I'm bound. I can't so much as look at him sideways.

There was a long silence that left Sirius in a painful limbo between hope and despair. Then, the darkness whispered, What if you were unbound?

Sirius stopped moving, confusion swamping his mind, making his thoughts feel sticky and slow. What do you mean?

We cannot kill the god. That is against the rules. The darkness wrapped around his neck again before slithering down his arms to encircle his wrists. You can kill the god. That is not against the rules.

Sirius' heart slowed so much he wasn't sure if it was beating anymore. In this little bubble of darkness, time didn't move. His lips parted, his fangs sharpening at the very thought. The only thing he had ever wanted more than to kill Hades was Galloway.

You can remove the bond? he asked, finally catching on to what the darkness had been hinting at. 

A sinister chuckle reverberated around him. For a price.

Sirius growled low in his throat. Of course. His breath shaky with longing, he licked his lips. What price? He closed his eyes, though it didn't make much of a difference. What will it cost?

A half.

Sirius frowned, not understanding. Half of what?

The darkness slithered back up his arms to his chest, seeping through his skin and curling around his heart like a snake around a warm rock. Dread suddenly rushed through him, making his stomach churn. Whatever the price was, it would be steep. Unbearably steep.

One half of you, or the other. The darkness snuggled closer around his heart, making it strain with every beat. The man, or the monster.

Sirius' breath caught. W-What?

The man, or the monster, the darkness repeated eagerly. More subdued, it added, Breaking the bond requires a high price.

Sirius swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. He understood perfectly what the darkness wanted—one of his two forms. Like it had said, the man or the monster. Can't... He opened his eyes, searching for something, anything. But there was absolutely nothing. Isn't there anything else?

There are many things, the darkness conceded. Your heart. Your memories. Many things. A breeze rustled Sirius' hair and he realized the darkness had sighed. We only ask for what you will give.

It was a revelation to Sirius that he actually was more willing to part with one of his forms than with his heart, something that had once been useless to him. It was hard to tell in this place beyond places, but Sirius thought he might have fallen to his knees.

It is your choice, the darkness whispered softly in his ear. Give us a half, or remain bound. Let her die. Free yourself from her. It hissed before swirling away from Sirius' vision. There in front of him stood Hades holding Galloway, his fangs still buried in her throat. Neither of them were moving.

Rage boiled through him, burning any reservation to pure ash.

There is no choice. He looked down, unable to see his clawed hands. Again, he swallowed hard. Will it...will I be mortal?

There were many things he was willing to do. Forcing Galloway to face an eternity alone was not one of those things. They had both spent more than enough time alone.

No, the darkness soothed. No, that is too steep a price. Your shape was gifted by Hades, not your immortality. We are cruel, but also fair.

That seemed debatable, but Sirius sensed he was running out of time. The offer would not stand forever. The darkness would not spare Galloway for long.

Yes, Sirius finally said, beginning to shake. It took a moment to realize he was afraid. Desperately afraid.

He had only ever been the thing he was, which, arguably, was mostly a monster. What was he if he gave that up? What was left?

Because if he was mostly a monster, that meant very little of him was a man.

Galloway's voice echoed suddenly in his head, brought by a memory of madness. Man, monster. That's not what matters. What matters is your heart.

A shudder ran through him, his throat tightening. Still, he hesitated. The truth was he didn't want to give up his power. He didn't want to give up his wolf form or his claws or his fangs. He had always enjoyed being a monster far more than being a man. 

Until he had met Galloway.

Then again...the power had never truly belonged to him. Like the darkness had said, his wolf form was something gifted by Hades. His power came from the darkness. None of it was his.

But Galloway...Galloway was his. He needed her far more than he needed the wolf or the claws or the fangs.

The darkness continued to swirl around him silently, waiting.

His breathing ragged, Sirius extended his hands. Take it, he whispered. The monster. Not the man.

Galloway didn't need any more monsters in her life.

A pulse of disappointment brushed against him, but the darkness didn't hesitate. Gashes opened in his palms, black blood welling up. Tendrils of the darkness seeped into the blood, following his veins back to his heart.

Be still, Sirius.

Pain turned his vision red as the darkness began to slice into his heart, tearing away the monster with brutal efficiency. His entire body felt like it had been plunged into a pool of lava. Eventually, it became too much and Sirius keeled over backwards, sprawling on the floor, his body convulsing.

Then, when his heart felt like it had been whittled down to nothing more than a pile of bloody slivers, the pain receded. The darkness ebbed slowly back out of his chest, down his arms and billowed out of the gashes in his palms.

Above his head, a black cloud outlined in flickering blue fire rose, shifting and ebbing into the shape of a dark wolf. It stared down at him, ears pressed against its skull and eyes glowing brilliant sapphire. A long, mournful howl filled his head, echoing in his ears and he found that his face was wet. Lifting a hand, he brushed at one of the tears, blinking another away.

His hands shook and he couldn't stop his vision from blurring again and again with tears. A small voice deep down inside of him whispered that it wasn't fair. That he shouldn't have to sacrifice so much. That he couldn't live like this.

He shushed it and got back to his feet. The only thing he couldn't live without was Galloway. Tipping his head back to stare at what the darkness had taken, he said, Why didn't you do this before?

Before the arena, before the pits and Purgatory, he had begged and pleaded with the darkness, offering anything and everything. It hadn't helped him then, preferring to side with Hades. What had changed?

The darkness again brushed against his face, soaking up his tears. You weren't desperate enough then, it said quietly. You would not have parted with your power. You would not have handed such power to us. If the darkness had a face, Sirius knew it would have been smiling. The wolf in your heart belongs to us now, Sirius. But we are always willing to bargain and you will want the monster back one day. And then you will belong to us.

Sirius' stomach lurched as he realized what the darkness had wanted all along—debt. It knew that somewhere along the road, Sirius would be desperate enough to bargain again, and it held a hell of a chip now.

Shaking the thought away, he bared his teeth, now flat and unthreatening. You have your payment, he hissed. He held his hands up in front of him, fingers curled into fists. Free me. Now.

As you wish. The darkness once more slithered forward, encircling his wrists and throat. A whisper filled the air around him, the darkness chanting in a language he couldn't even begin to understand. It pricked and plucked at his skin, drawing blood like he was being hit with tiny shards of glass. The darkness swirled in a tornado around him, whipping at his clothes and hair.

The skin around his wrists glowed beneath the bands of darkness, blood-red runes flaring to life. A sudden tightness around his throat made him think the same runes had appeared there. The whispering increased its tempo, the runes glowing brighter and brighter until Sirius was forced to close his eyes. There was a brief sound like breaking glass and an intense scorching sensation that tore a scream from his throat.

He opened his eyes to watch as the runes were pulled from his skin. They floated in the air for a moment before shattering into bright sparks that burned his hands, then faded into nothing.

Sirius wobbled, suddenly feeling too light for his body. His vision tunneled and his heart stuttered as his chest expanded in a breath that somehow felt deeper and fuller than any he had ever taken before. Euphoria filled him, making him feel like he was floating several feet above the floor.

He had never imagined that freedom would be like this.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not even the fact that Hades still had Galloway, or that they were all still trapped in Hell. 

He was free.

Reality crashed back down around him making his knees buckle. He hit the floor and looked up as the darkness spiraled away, taking what had once been his away with it.

His chest heaved and his fingers twitched, but no claws slid forward at his bidding. He looked down, then back up to find the same tableau before him: Galloway was still staring toward him, Hades' fangs buried in her neck. Most of the others were unconscious or so injured as to be useless.

Time had not moved while he made his deal.

Slowly, experimentally, he got to his feet. Hades didn't seem to notice as he pulled Galloway closer, still feeding off of her. Like a giant, blond leech.

Sirius cocked his head and took a step forward. Then another.

In the corner of his eye, he watched as Logan stirred, the witch pushing himself up into a sitting position. His eyes went wide and the blood rushed from his face when he saw Galloway. He tried to push himself to his feet, but Sirius waved a hand. The witch frowned at him, rage making his eyes burn black.

Sirius tapped a finger to his temple, a question on his face. Logan shook his head, frustrating Sirius. Apparently, the witch didn't share his brother's gift, which made Sirius' sudden idea that much harder to execute. But Rhys was still out cold on the floor a few feet away from his brother.

So Sirius attempted the imprecise art of hand signals, pointing first at Galloway, then Logan before gesturing to the patch of land visible beyond the gates. Now that the seal had been broken, the witches would be able to magic the others across the crevice standing between them and freedom.

Logan blinked once before wobbling up to his feet and stumbling over toward Rhys. He nodded shakily before practically falling beside his brother. Rhys groaned softly when Logan leaned forward, gently shaking his shoulder.

On the off chance that Logan hadn't taken his meaning and that Rhys was lucid enough to hear him, he began throwing his thoughts at the telepath. To his immense relief, Rhys lifted his head, brows furrowing at Sirius. Blood trickled down the witch's forehead, soaking the silver strands of his hair. He blinked a few times, then nodded before laying back down, meeting his brother's gaze.

As Sirius turned, he saw Rhys grab Logan's elbow, but didn't pause to wonder what the witches might be planning. His attention was again firmly on Hades.

Sirius knew he had exactly one shot at this.

Holding his breath, he began moving toward Hades. A very small part of him marveled at the fact that he could move at all—nothing stopped him. No magic plucked at his muscles or bound his bones. No command seared at his nerves.

He walked right up to Hades, fisted one hand in the god's slick blond hair and slid the index finger of his other hand just behind the god's fangs. Carefully, he prised Hades' teeth out of Galloway's throat. Blood trickled from the two holes in her neck, but the only smell that filled his nose was the scent of copper.

The shock on Hades' face would have been hysterical if Sirius had had the time to appreciate it.

As it was, his window was rapidly closing.

Catching Galloway around the waist, he spun her in the general direction of the witches before he grabbed Hades by the shoulder, cocked his arm back and drove his fist right into the god's nose. Sirius had never heard anything so beautiful as the crack that resulted from the bridge of the god's nose breaking. 

Pain lanced through his knuckles, a sensation he savored as he struck Hades again and again. Behind him, he heard shouting and the sudden snapping sound as one of the witches bent space around them.

All he could do was hope that had been Logan with Galloway.

For the first time in his existence, Sirius was surprised when the blow landed. He hadn't heard it whistle through the air before it landed. He was struggling to see through the gloom. Hades' palm collided with the side of his head in an open-handed blow that made his ears ring and his vision go shaky.

Sirius stumbled backwards, hands raised in an attempt to ward off any follow-up strikes as he tried to clear his mind. He shook his head, trying to force his eyes to track correctly again. Another snap sounded behind him, the yelling increasing in volume and tempo.

It was utterly bizarre that he had no idea what they might be saying.

He felt like he was underwater, everything dull and remote around him.

Sirius shook his head again and managed to find Hades, who was standing just a few feet away, looking at him with pure amazement etched across his face. Gingerly, he prodded at his broken nose, wiping golden ichor away. He studied his fingers for a moment, then looked again at Sirius.

"What have you done, Sirius?" he whispered. He took a step forward, his brow wrinkled with emotion. "What have you done?"

Sirius swiped his tongue around his mouth, spitting a sticky glob of blood and saliva at the god.

"Tell me," Hades thundered.

Sirius waited for the hooks of the order to bury themselves inside of him, waited for them to tear the answer out of his throat. They never did, and he began to smile. A strange huffing sound came from him, and he realized he was laughing.

Laughing in sheer disbelief.

He flexed his fingers, frowning when no claws slid forward. Hades' expression was black as the darkest pit of Hell.

"You stupid son of a bitch," Hades said, brandishing the same knife Galloway had used to wound Alex. "How dare you—"

"Exactly," Sirius interrupted, reveling in his ability to do so. "I dare to do exactly whatever the fuck I want. Including tearing your heart from your chest."

"For a change," Hades said with a vicious smile.

Sirius shrugged an acknowledgment before he launched himself at the god, snarling more out of habit than instinct.

Hades caught him and they tumbled to the ground, struggling around the knife. Sirius had both hands locked around Hades' wrist, keeping the blade at bay, twisting the god's arm in an effort to make him drop the weapon. Fingers dug into the back of his neck, trying to force his body forward.

Fangs snapped dangerously close to his eye and he twisted sideways, disengaging from Hades. The knife skidded along the side of his ribs before hitting the rock beneath him with a clang and a shower of sparks.

Sirius flung himself to his feet, circling warily as Hades rose. He squinted against the dimness, really only able to track the god by the gleam of red light off his pale hair. 

The absence of the wolf didn't affect Sirius' speed or strength. It didn't affect his reflexes or his ability. But he had never realized before how heavily he relied on things like scent or auditory cues in a fight. Now that they were gone—not to mention his ability to see in the dark—Sirius knew he had made a rather...well, serious mistake.

He might have been able to take Hades on his best day. Now, when he was wounded, exhausted and handicapped, he didn't stand a snowball's chance.

A low laugh rumbled out of the darkness, the dull red glow from the remnants of the gate flashing off fangs. Sirius' breath rasped in his throat as he waited, ears straining so hard he could hear a distant ringing, but not much else.

The dull thud of a footstep was his only warning before a roundhouse kick walloped him right in the ribs. His breath left him in a startled grunt and he barely had the time to block another kick, this one aimed for the side of his head. Hades' booted foot connected with his elbow, spinning him sideways. 

Sirius skittered back, trying to recover, trying to stop. But once you began to back up in a fight, it was difficult to stop. Hades lunged after him, the knife carving a path of gleaming red light through the air. He twisted and ducked, occasionally managing to slap Hades' arm away from its intended path. 

Suddenly, light flared again and Sirius cried out as his vision went white. His human eyes refused to adjust, leaving everything a blur around him. A scream echoed off the stone, followed by a deafening crack.

A startled grunt left him as the knife sank into his stomach, high on the right side. Hades twisted the blade in, a grin on his face before shock glazed his eyes. Another sharp pain tore into Sirius' chest, but the god didn't appear to have moved. Sirius didn't understand what was happening as the god released the knife and stumbled backwards.

They both looked down to find the glowing golden blade of a sword protruding from Hades' chest. The god let out a sharp breath as the blade was pulled out of him and he turned slightly to reveal Galloway standing behind him, panting, Rick's sword held loosely in her hand.

She lifted the sword again, but Sirius was faster. Yanking the knife from his guts, he jumped at the god, raining blows down on his unprotected back. Golden ichor sprayed as he stabbed Hades again and again and again, each blow containing centuries' worth of rage and vengeance.

"Et tu?" Hades whispered, the Latin slurred with pain.

"Him fucking too," Galloway snarled, bringing the blade down in a powerful sweep that should have cleaved the Underworld god nearly in half.

Instead, it hit the stone, reverberating so badly that Galloway couldn't hold it. It clattered to the ground and she tucked her hands against her stomach, grimacing. Sirius stared at the place Hades had been, his mind scrambling to understand what had happened.

A sudden, sickening scent of wildflowers filled the air, strong enough even Sirius could smell it.

"I believe you've had your fun, Sirius," Persephone's voice echoed from behind him.

Slowly he turned to find Hades leaning heavily on his wife, who had taken one of the god's arms across her slender shoulders. Golden blood pulsed from his wounds, getting in Persephone's dark hair and painting her brown skin. Hades was breathing heavily, one hand pressed to a wound in his throat, his dark eyes pinned on Sirius. They stood on the other side of the crevice, framed by the ruins of the gate.

The goddess smiled, the expression quite literally all fang. "As a thank you for opening the gate, I shan't kill you for your impertinence."

Sirius managed exactly one step forward before a purplish cloud exploded around the two gods. The smoke rushed toward them, knocking Sirius and Galloway to the ground. His throat and eyes stung with the smell of bitter hemlock, making his eyes water. Blinking hard, he let out a roar when he looked back toward where the gods had stood.

They were gone.


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