"Beyond this place of wrath and tears."

- William Ernest Henley

                                                                              ***

Sirius stared blankly at the wall, completely empty.

He'd managed to pull himself together enough to break into one of the empty warehouses nearby to stay in as he tried to figure out what happened next. But it was difficult to maintain any action.

He was in a dark place.

In a way, it was strange that he even noticed. He had always thrived in the darkness, before. This was different, though, not because it was dark on the inside. He'd always lived with that blackness.

The problem here was that the rest of the world was dark now, too. Before, he'd always relied on the light and flavor—however fleeting—of the outside to combat the emptiness within.

Then she'd come along and brightened the darkness. As a result, the rest of the world had been burned away around him, leaving nothing but her. That had been fine. As far as he'd been concerned, she was all there was, the rest nothing more than shadow and ash.

Theron had taken her.

And Sirius had been ripped away from the sun.

Now he lived in a shadow world. A universe of night that offered no relief from the crushing blackness.

He was pretty sure he hadn't meant to love her so much. He was pretty sure he hadn't meant to love her at all.

A knife twisted viciously, and Sirius looked down. He was almost surprised when he didn't find an actual blade lodged in his chest.

She's gone.

The words whispered through his mind and he gasped, doubling over, fingers gripping his hair. He shook his head, violently denying the words. An unbidden growl rattled in his chest.

She's gone and it's your fault.

He lunged to his feet, tearing the door open. He ran out to her car, hardly able to catch up with the mad whirl of thoughts in his head. He knew the energy wouldn't last long.

He needed something, anything that could help him. He didn't even care what.

But nothing about the car immediately presented itself as useful, and Sirius felt that seductive numbness trying to pull him back down into useless apathy.  Hissing in frustration, he yanked the door open. Imagining the look Galloway would have given him at the rough treatment, he muttered an apology.

Carefully, he started going through the car, needing to find something. He didn't even know what he was looking for. He didn't know how to fix this.

He opened the glovebox, then scrambled as several neatly folded papers spilled out across the passenger seat. After the rush of movement, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the steering wheel. It was too much.

Tears welled, hot as blood, and he looked up, blinking them away. It still managed to shock him every time, the fact that he could cry. Not even the pit's most devious tortures had managed to make him do that.

They ran down his face, wetting the dried gore and he took in a shaky breath. He needed to focus, otherwise he'd drown.

Shaking his head hard, he riffled through the papers, putting them carefully away until he came across a small, tattered notebook. Frowning, he picked it up, looking down at the plain black cover.

Curiously, he flipped it open, just to find a single phone number written in a hand that wasn't hers. There was no name attached to the number.

He stayed still a moment too long and the Darkness slid into his mind, whispering terrible things that he recognized as the truth. Grief and guilt threatened to swallow him again, and he tore the page out, pulling himself out of the car.

Digging around through the trunk yielded one of the many burner phones she had on hand.

For a moment, he paced back and forth along the length of the car, a sneaking suspicion laughing at him. Finally, he came to the conclusion that he quite literally had nothing to lose anymore.

He sat on the warm asphalt, his back leaning against the sun-heated metal of the charcoal colored car. He set the piece of paper on the ground, then set the phone on top of it to keep it from being blown away. 

He tilted his head back until it thumped against the car. Murmuring, he said, "I'll get her back."

The shadows under the car mocked him. His fingers brushed against the metal, and he laughed hoarsely, uncertain who he was promising. If he was even making a promise.

Growling, he snatched up the phone and dialed the number, crumpling the notebook page in his hand as it rang. A voice that immediately made his fangs stab into his lip answered quickly.

"Galloway?"

Sirius' breath whistled out like he'd been punched and he stared up at the sky, trying to get himself together. The Hunter, sounding a little annoyed, said, "Galloway, come on, I know it's you. You're one of three people who has this number. What's up? Are you okay? Do you need something?"

The strangled answer came out before Sirius could even consider stopping it. "Help."

There was a very long pause, then: "Who is this?"

The sudden menace in the Hunter's voice might have been impressive if Sirius had ever been inclined to be afraid of a human.

"Ga—" He choked for a second on her name, then croaked, "Galloway needs help. Hell took her."

The voice on the other end was ice when it said, "This is the Hellhound."

It wasn't a question. "Yes."

"Why are you calling me?"

Sirius struggled to say it this time. "I need your help."

The hostility in Caleb's voice was stunning. "What makes you think I'd help you?"

"Aren't you listening?" Sirius snarled, suddenly furious. "Hell took her!"

It was quiet for so long Sirius thought the Hunter had hung up. The rage abandoned him just as quickly as it had come, and he really couldn't bring himself to move. Then, the Hunter asked, "Where are you?"

Relief bled through him. Raggedly, he said, "You'll help."

"I don't know yet," Caleb responded flatly.

Sirius frowned, and told the Hunter where he was.

Caleb said, "I can be there in two days."

"That's not fast enough!" Sirius howled. That would be two days wasted. Two days that might as well be two years.

"That's what it'll take," Caleb said harshly. "You'd best hope I don't convince myself to just kill you as soon as I see you."

There was a small click and the phone slid from his numb fingers. Looking up at the sky again, his eyes burning, he muttered, "You'd be doing me a favor."

He can't kill you yet, Galloway's voice observed, making him flinch. He could almost imagine how she would smile when it said, He needs you to get into Hell.

He shook his head, knocking it away. He knew it wasn't real.

Shaking his head again, he shoved himself up and went back into the warehouse, wondering how he was supposed to save her. How he was supposed to survive until he did.

Shadows licked at his hands, wanting his attention. But the Darkness was a risky friend at best, and a homicidal bitch at most. Right now it knew he was weak, which meant that he couldn't risk shifting and letting his animal mind filter away his pain. He was probably lucky it had let him go when he'd found her.

His mind shied violently, but it was too late. The images of Galloway's torn body and spilled blood ran circles in his mind, trying to destroy him.

He sank down onto a stack of pallets, claws digging into his temples as he clutched his head.

Sirius didn't know if he could survive two days.

                                                                          ~~~

A horrendous banging issued from the warehouse's door, startling him from nightmares. He lurched upright, the light from the high windows of the warehouse murder on his eyes. The limited amount of alcohol he'd commandeered paired with a supernatural metabolism had done nothing to keep the darkness—inner or outer—at bay, and Sirius' hands trembled with pain and fatigue as he stood up.

For two days the Darkness had pricked and plucked at his skin, wanting him for its own. Hoping to reclaim someone it had lost, because very rarely did the Darkness lose anyone. It was the thing people were lost to, not the other way around. 

He might have fallen for it again, if it hadn't so obviously wanted him to forget her.

Night, who had once been an ally of his scorned him now, trying to pull him apart. He'd forgotten how to sleep without her next to him. When he did manage to close his eyes, he was bombarded with horror and blame, the Darkness singing that he'd killed her he'd killed her he'd killed her.

Sirius had refused to sleep after a poor attempt the first night, so the fact that the banging sound had woken him was startling and concerning.

Shaking off his exhaustion, he stumbled to the door and opened it, having to shield his eyes as he did so. Which was why he didn't see the fist before it caught him square in the mouth.

Sirius reeled back, blood trickling from his lip. Another fist hit his stomach, and he barely managed to duck a hooking punch that wanted to tear his head off. A strike split the skin of his cheekbone, an elbow cut into his jaw, and he'd just about had enough.

Snarling, sure his eyes were glowing, he blocked one strike, then another, before grabbing his assailant's wrist and throwing him over his shoulder. There was a dull thud and a wheezed out breath as they hit the floor, and Sirius shook his head, trying to get his vision to track again.

The Hunter glared up at him balefully, a gun in his hand. Sirius wiped the blood off his lip, then spread his arms out wide, offering him the best possible target. His voice hoarse with pain and disuse, he said, "Maybe if you put enough of those things in my heart it really will kill me."

He wasn't overly hopeful, but he'd try anything once.

Caleb blinked slowly, his dark eyes malevolent in the low light as he stood up, holding the gun with both hands now. Sirius had the odd thought that the Hunter was someone who really looked like he knew what he was doing with a gun. Not everyone looked so proficient.

Wiping at his face again, Sirius realized his nose was bleeding and wondered at that, since he couldn't remember getting hit there. Then he decided it didn't matter. Haggard, he sat down with his back against one of the many support pillars. "If you're going to kill me, then I hope you have a way to get her back up here without my help."

"What did you do?" the Hunter hissed. "What did you fucking do to her?"

"I left her alone," he confessed, the words like poison on his tongue. Looking the Hunter dead in the eye, he continued, "I told her I needed to talk to Valentia alone. I didn't want her to see. I didn't want her to know."

The words clawed themselves out of him unbidden, and he hung his head, choking on the sour truth.

He hadn't lied, exactly. Valentia had been more friendly with just him there. She wouldn't have liked Galloway and Galloway wouldn't have liked her. But that wasn't the only reason he'd asked her to let him go alone.

Sirius hadn't wanted to expose her to the filthier aspects of his life. Hadn't wanted her to see what he really was, because then she would have given him that look. That one that said she thought he was better than that, and he would know, deep down, that he really wasn't.

He'd mostly been truthful about his past; logically he knew she didn't particularly care about his vices and violent nature. But the idea of having her in the middle of a place like Valentia's had sickened him, so he'd asked her to stay away.

She had, because she'd trusted him, and now she was dead. Dead and in Hell, where they'd tear her apart until there was nothing left of her but the blackness. They'd take away all of those beautiful colors, and leave her just as empty as he was.

Sirius just didn't think he could bear that.

Caleb gaped at him for a moment, obviously taken aback. Sirius kind of wondered what the Hunter had thought he had done. He shook his head and rasped, "She's dead, and it's my fault."

"Where is she?" the Hunter choked.

"Haven't you been listening?" Sirius said. "Hell! She's in Hell. We have to get her back. I have to get her back."

Caleb closed the space between them in two long strides. He fisted his hands in the collar of Sirius' shirt, dragging him up to his feet. He snarled, but didn't resist as the Hunter brought his face inches away from Sirius'.

The Hunter shook him, then released him, taking a few steps back, disgust all over his face. He looked down at his hands, which had flakes of rust-colored blood on them. His mouth twisting, he asked, "What is this?"

Sirius had forgotten that her blood was still all over him. It hadn't occurred to him to wash it off. Caleb was still looking at the blood on his hands when he whispered, "Her body. What did you do with her body, you useless prick."

Blinking hard, Sirius found himself suddenly on his knees when he said, "They needed both. They needed her Soul and her body."

There was a long silence, but Sirius didn't bother to look up. His shoulders slumped as his eyes blurred. Then, Caleb said, "Why do you have blood all over you?"

Sirius' gaze wandered down to his shirt, which had been stained a rusty-red, thicker in some places than others. His hands were still streaked with blood, his fingernails dark maroon crescents. Caleb crouched down in front of him, light catching off the dark metal of the gun's barrel.

Finally, Sirius looked up and Caleb's eyes went wide, but he didn't say anything. Forcing the words past a too-tight throat, he said, "They took her Soul first."

The Hunter frowned, then tucked his gun into his belt, shifting his jacket to hide it. He stood and nudged Sirius' leg with the toe of his boot. "Get up."

Sounding a little drunk and belligerent, though he was really neither of these things, Sirius said, "If you're gonna kill me, this position seems a little more traditional. Theatrical, even, if you're into that."

"Don't tempt me," Caleb muttered under his breath.

Sirius thought that he probably hadn't been meant to hear that. 

More loudly, Caleb said, "If they just took her to Hell, why are you covered in blood? Who'd you kill?"

The last words were said so assertively, like there wasn't a doubt in the Hunter's mind that Sirius was drenched in the blood of some innocent young virgin. Which was ridiculous. Sirius hadn't killed anyone in nearly a week, and he avoided virgins like the plague.

Staring past the Hunter, trying to keep his voice level, he explained, "Theron wanted to punish me, too. So he had Hellhounds tear her apart." 

He choked a little, curling in on himself as a phantom movie of her death played in the shadowy corner behind Caleb.The Darkness had been all too happy to play her death for him over and over. A wretched film meant to drive him crazy. Or...crazier. 

His chest ached as he gasped, "He wanted me to find her body. He wanted me to see her like that. Just so he could take her twice."

The Hunter sighed. "What are you talking about? Do you ever make sense? Christ, how did she put up with you for a year?"

"Beats me," Sirius said hoarsely, to be met by a surprised silence.

He glanced up and saw the confused look on Caleb's face. Casting his eyes back down, he said, "What we did, it's against the rules."

"What you did?" Caleb asked flatly.

Sirius didn't want to explain this. He couldn't. He had to.

Before he could though, Caleb said, voice low and threatening, "You explain this to me, or I splatter your brains across the concrete."

The idea had a certain charm to it.

How many times do we have to go over this, Sirius? Galloway's voice said dryly. He knew how she would roll her eyes. You can't die. If you die there's no one who can free me. Talking to Caleb really won't hurt anything. Probably.

He shuddered violently, then whispered, "It's a strictly business relationship between Collectors and Hellhounds. Breaking that rule comes with severe consequences. I wasn't with her. I wasn't with her, so Theron couldn't punish me alongside her. Leaving her body for me to find, that was my punishment."

"I don't believe you," the Hunter said coldly.

Sirius flicked his eyes up to meet Caleb's. He shrugged. "Okay."

"What do you mean okay?" Caleb yelled, making Sirius' ears ache. Once again, he fisted his hands in Sirius' shirt, jerking him to his feet. Again, Sirius couldn't find it in him to fight. Getting into his face, the Hunter raged, "She's dead! You're telling me that they fucking tore her to pieces because you couldn't keep your goddamn hands off her?"

Sirius just stared back blankly at Caleb. The Hunter shoved him away, shaking his head. Sneering, he said, "You don't care. She's dead and you're just..." 

He waved a hand at Sirius, somehow encompassing whatever it was that Sirius was being right now. Which was impressive, considering that even Sirius didn't know what he was at the moment.

Then, what the Hunter had said actually caught up to him. A vicious growl slipped from between his teeth, making Caleb look at him. His claws slid out, his fangs lengthening as he snarled.

Caleb's hand went to the small of his back, but it was too late. Sirius lunged at him, tackling the Hunter to the ground. He pinned one arm with a knee, then the other with a hand, digging his claws into Caleb's wrist. Caleb struggled, face going red with rage as Sirius clamped a hand around the Hunter's throat, his claws piercing soft flesh.

A tendril of Darkness slithered up his arm, the Hunter's eyes tracking it with horror. Sirius shuddered, shaking away the silky blackness. His fangs made it hard to speak when he said, "I care enough to go to Hell for her. Can you say the same? You ran, you fucking ran when all she had to do to stay free of Hell was collect you. It's your fault she was even marked in the first place." 

He knew he'd hit a nerve when the Hunter blanched. Sirius savored the look of pain. Relished in the wounded look he received. There was something deliciously soothing in the fact that he wasn't the only one hurting. Something relieving in the ability to inflict a little pain himself, rather than just suffer from it.

Bright blood streaked down Caleb's throat as he glared up at the Hound. Sirius made an effort to loosen his hold. Caleb gasped in a breath, but Sirius didn't let him up.

Instead, he brought his face uncomfortably close to the other man's. His voice rough, he said, "I didn't call you so you could remind me how I fucked up. I know what I did wrong. I know I should have just broken her heart instead. Like you should have just gone to Hell." 

His fangs made his mouth a bloody mess, more teeth sharpening as his fury spiked. His tone dark, he said, "They wouldn't have caught us if she'd just sent you to Hell. You're the one who put her in the crosshairs, I'm just the reason they killed her that way."

"This is your fault," the Hunter responded furiously, still fighting to get free. "If you hadn't screwed with her head, she'd be fine! Alive and trying to figure out how to get rid of you!"

Those words were taken up and repeated by the Darkness, telling him, Of course she was trying to leave you. She didn't love you. How could she? There's nothing about you worth her love.

He fisted both hands in the Hunter's jacket, lifting him up just to slam him back into the floor. "There's a lot we all should have done. So we can sit here and argue about who did what and why that person's responsible for where she is, or we can suck it up and figure out how to get her back."

Caleb glared daggers at him as Sirius stood up. His fingers were sticky with fresh blood, and the Hunter sat up, touching the puncture marks on his throat. Still giving him a nasty look as he stood, Caleb said, "Why do you keep saying that?"

Sirius blinked slowly, then had to blink again as his eyes blurred. Again, Caleb's eyes widened dramatically. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he sat before addressing the Hunter's question. "We are going to get her back. Preferrably before Theron takes any of her colors."

"Colors?" Caleb asked, then shook his head. Getting back on track, he said, none-to-kindly, "We can't. She's dead. What's dead stays dead."

"Maybe if you're human and useless," Sirius snarled. "She's not staying dead. I won't allow it."

Caleb frowned, his dark brows pulling together. He touched his tongue to his upper lip, then glanced at Sirius, who was staring hard at a shadow trying to wrap around his leg. The voices were worse if he let it touch him.

He clicked his tongue, then said, "Why did you call me?"

"Why did you answer?" Sirius returned.

"Because I thought it was Galloway." He paused, raising an eyebrow as Sirius flinched. His mouth thinned, and he said, "I came to kill you. Because that's what I told her I'd do when you got her killed."

Sirius' lip curled back in a snarl, but he couldn't deny what the Hunter was saying. He stayed silent, because there was nothing he could say. There was nothing he wanted to say.

He hated this man. Hated that he had been part of her life. Hated that he would have been better for her. He knew how to hate better than he knew how to love, and the familiarity of the black emotion wrapped around him easily.

But the fact remained that he needed help. And he didn't know anyone he would trust enough to do this with.

It wasn't that he didn't believe the Hunter wouldn't stab him in the back if he got the chance. It was that he had faith that Caleb wouldn't do it until they got her back.

"Why did you call me?" Caleb repeated the question with greater force, and Sirius finally made himself meet those bitter coffee eyes.

His hands started trembling and he said, "I need to get her out. We need to get her out."

"What do you even care?" The question was cruel.

Sirius shot to his feet, then growled, swallowing the urge to eviscerate the Hunter. His claws popped out for a second before he forced them away and he gritted his teeth.

Tell the truth. He swayed as she whispered in his ear. He could almost feel the sweet heat of her breath. He'll help if you tell the truth. It won't hurt. I promise.

He clenched his hands, claws biting into his palm and said tonelessly, "I love her." He paused when Caleb scoffed. "You don't have to believe me. Hell, I wouldn't believe me. But it's the truth. I love her enough to ask for your help."

Caleb's lips parted in something akin to shock.

The Darkness hissed, He'd rather kill you. As soon as he gets the chance he'll slit your throat. Safer to kill him now. Spill his blood for us, and we'll help you.

Sirius shook his head minutely, and the Hunter scowled at him. Silence settled thickly around them, Caleb staring at him hard. His eyes drifted toward the light coming in through the still open door, and he wondered if standing in the light would keep the Darkness back.

He dismissed this as foolish. Sunlight wasn't powerful enough to destroy the blackness inside of him. Only she had been able to do that, filling the resulting space with her own light. And the darkness had been all too eager to rush back into the vaccuum left behind when she'd been torn away.

"Say I believe you," Caleb suddenly said, snapping him out of his musings. When he looked over, he found the Hunter staring blankly out the door, toward her car.

When Sirius cocked his head, the Hunter's gaze went to him, his eyes going from soft and unfocused to hard and cold in an instant. His mouth tight with disdain, he said, "If I believed that you can or even want to get her back, what then?"

Sirius' lips parted momentarily, and he found himself at a loss. He realized in that moment that he had truly never expected the Hunter to offer his help, evidenced by the complete and total shock coursing through him. When Caleb began to sneer, he shook his head.

Blinking, trying to stay focused, he said, "I can get us into Hell. I know where she'll be."

"So?" Caleb shrugged. "That doesn't mean we can get her back."

"They'll have to put her Soul back in her body at some point."

"Still doesn't answer my question," Caleb said snidely.

Anger overrode his natural inclination to secrecy and he said, "There are older entrances to Hell than just the gates. I know where they are. I know how to get in and out, but I can't do it by myself."

Caleb stared at him for too long. Sirius was beginning to wonder at his intelligence. He stood up, moving toward a patch of sunlight as a tendril of Darkness wrapped around his wrist.

The Hunter gave him a smile that could have frozen an ocean. "If we were actually going to Hell, we'd need more help."

The relief this answer brought nearly brought him to his knees again. He leaned against the door frame in an effort to stay upright. 

Caleb gave him another of those odd, shocked looks, then said, "Don't get too excited. The people I have in mind would probably kill you as soon as they saw you."

"Then I hope you have a way to get her yourself," Sirius repeated. When Caleb raised an eyebrow, he sneered and said, "All I want is her out of Hell. Threaten me all you want. I don't give a damn what you do to me, just as long as it doesn't interfer with getting her out of Hell."

Caleb's mouth dropped open in shock, the expression almost cartoonish. Sirius turned abruptly, the bright light outside making him squint as he said, "Things will get ugly as soon as you get in my way about that."

"I never actually said I'd help."

The words splashed over Sirius like ice water, and he froze, the hope that had been hesitantly pushing the Darkness away easily dying and fading into despair.