"It's bloody and raw but I swear it is sweet."

-Hozier

                                                                             ***

Sirius stalked past the vehicles, past the crooked, collapsing picket fence and out onto the heat-cracked blacktop. The light from a half moon beat down on everything, casting the world in weird silvers and deep blues. He wanted to shift. To stretch out and run, leaving this place far behind.

He missed his other shape. Missed the thick fur and sensitive whiskers. He even kind of missed his tail and the extra balance it provided. Mostly he missed running, and how quickly four legs could carry him.

Not quickly enough, he thought bitterly. Not when it truly mattered.

But he was afraid to attempt a shift. He was afraid that the darkness wouldn't let him go, and instead, would tear him apart and leave him that way, rather than putting him back together like it always had. 

Like he always thought it would.

Besides, he wouldn't be able to carry the blood that way. Not without accidentally puncturing one or both of the bags with his teeth. 

So, he settled for a long stride as he walked, heading back toward Vegas and its demons. The spell-bindings around his wrists tingled as he continued to move farther from the house. He ignored them, and they began to burn.

He shook his head and started to jog, then sprint down the road until it felt like melted iron had been poured over his wrists. Gasping, he finally stopped and looked down at his hands to find that the markings around his wrists were glowing an unhappy shade of red. 

With a shake of his head, he looked out to the desert, searching the rocks and sharp plants for the darkest shadow he could find. Eventually he settled on one created by a small jumble of ragged boulders, walking off the road to kneel down by the pool of black.

He took several deep breaths, making sure he was under control, then nearly laughed at himself. He'd been outside everyone's control but hers for at least half a year. 

At the very least, he could settle on the idea that he didn't think he'd have one of those miserable attacks while he did this. He'd take that gamble for a little information. Darkness was everywhere, and so it knew just about everything. Maybe if he was lucky it might give him a couple answers.

Moving slowly, he set the blood on the ground a little behind him, nestled in soft, dry dirt. Then, he placed his hands in the middle of the shadow, vision fading a little as he allowed the darkness to lick at his skin, wrapping around his fingers.

These were the first strands of darkness he'd seen since it had attacked him and been chased away. Even now, he still had no clue what had made it flee like it had. All he remembered was the darkness nearly killing him, seeing Galloway and then a blast of golden light.

Part of him wondered why it hadn't come back immediately, hissing and whispering those awful, mind-wrecking things to him. The other part didn't give a damn and was just relieved that they had left him alone with his own mind-wrecking thoughts. 

He closed his eyes halfway, listening, carefully guarding the edges of his mind.

This time, the darkness sounded sad, its voice soft and nearly feminine.

Oh Sirius, it sighed, you keep tying yourself to these humans and all it does is hurt you.

"Galloway's not human," he argued, his own voice nothing more than a murmur snatched away by the wind. Then he frowned. "What do you mean humans?"

He wasn't tied to any humans.

These marks, it explained, wrapping a tendril around the spell marks, they promise us a demon's blood and your revenge. The Hunter didn't make any specific promise, and so he is tied to yours. He's tied to you, and you to him. Unless you would like us to break his contract?

The voice turned wheedling and bloodthirsty, and as tempting as the idea was, Sirius slowly shook his head. The darkness was cool against the burning brand marks, and he stayed there for another minute, letting it sooth the ache. 

It was easier to think through the implications of what the darkness had just said when he didn't feel like he'd dunked his hands into boiling oil. But that didn't mean he really believed the darkness. It was just a matter of sussing out what it could gain by telling him this.

It had always been unpredictable, but had never been quite so cruel to him until recently. Part of this he knew was his own fault. It was in darkness' very nature to prey on the weak, and that's what he'd been when they took her. 

In all reality, that's what he still was now, and he knew the darkness would be hard pressed not to exploit that weakness. But it seemed to be inclined to just talk this time.

He'd never trusted it. It was far too elemental for that. But he'd always thought that it would favor him, at the very least.

Recent events had very effectively changed that assumption.

We were jealous of her. We just wanted you for ourselves, like it had always been, the darkness said, turning petulant. We understand now. 

"Do you?" Sirius said skeptically. He was pretty sure he didn't believe that, and the darkness hissed as it sensed his doubt.

We don't want to hurt you like your Hunter girl does.

"She's not the one who hurts me."

Then why do we feel a knife in your heart every time you think of her?

Sirius stayed silent, not sure how to explain. He shook his head and said, "It doesn't matter. She's none of your concern."

This made the darkness fall silent for a long time. It continued to sooth the marks on his wrists. Finally, it hissed, We want to help you, so she is.

This provoked a snort. "Why should I believe that after what you did to me last time?"

We told you, the darkness said simply. We don't really want to hurt you. We were just mad because she kept you away from us... It hesitated, then reluctantly said, And we don't want to cross the lioness again.

Sirius' eyes flew open. "The what?"

The darkness hissed and slithered away from him, though he didn't know why. It had never left without him having to force it to, and now it hissed at him when he tried to make it stay, sliding like inky water through his fingers.

A single strand lingered for a moment to whisper, Be careful, Sirius. You are dear to us. Always so hateful, so hungry for blood and willing to share. We will share with her if we have to, but we ask that you remember where you came from.

"You didn't answer the question!" he said, agitation coursing through him as the darkness slipped away, leaving him alone again, his wrists burning once more. "What lioness are you talking about?" His anger got the better of him and he shouted, "Because if that's what you're calling her now, that's stupid. And how would you cross her? She's in Hell, remember!"

The only answer he got was an echo of his own voice reminding him that she was in Hell.

Still, he couldn't deny that there was something very comforting in what the darkness had told him. There had always been something about the darkness that enchanted him, and he had longed for it in a way he didn't care to admit.

"Who are you talking to?"

The unexpected voice had Sirius lunging to his feet, fangs and claws sprouting as he whirled around. He relaxed slightly, but just slightly, when all he found was Rick watching him with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

Frowning, he looked back down at the shadow cast by the rock to find it was now deep blue, not properly black. Once more, the darkness had left him alone, drowning in more questions than answers. He blew out a frustrated breath, then bent to pick up the blood.

He started to storm past the Hunter, then growled when Rick grabbed his elbow, forcing him to a halt. Sirius snarled, but Rick quietly said, "What did you do to him?"

All he could do was stare blankly at the man. Then, Rick's eyes flicked down to the black spellwork around his wrists, and he understood.

"It wasn't me," he explained, voice short. The darkness had given him this answer at least. "It was the spell. Caleb didn't have any solid intent when he got caught by it, so it tied him to mine."

"That intent being?" Rick asked, voice still calm, but with a steely undertone threaded through it.

"Kill a demon, rescue the girl, save the world," he deadpanned, although only really two of those things mattered to him. 

Rick made a small humming sound, then said, "You need to come back."

The burning of his own wrists attested to that much, but Sirius' mouth thinned into an argumentative line. "I get the feeling I'm not welcome," he said, turning his face slightly away from the Hunter.

Rick let him go with a sigh, scrubbing a hand through his short, light brown hair. He looked down at the blood Sirius was holding, and swore under his breath. For a while, the only sound between them was the wind.

Finally, Sirius said, "Why did you come out here after me?"

With a shrug, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He pursed his lips in thought, then looked up at the sky. "Because those markings are trying to turn Caleb into some tasty black magic barbecue. His words, not mine."

Sirius kind of doubted that. But he wasn't very inclined to ease the Hunter's suffering any. 

 "And..." Rick hesitated, "and because if you hadn't moved like you did when we were trying to tie it down, that demon bitch probably would have killed Alex."

"So?" Sirius asked blankly. He'd just needed to keep the demon from escaping. Why did that make any difference to him?

"Fuck, man," Rick said, brow furrowing as his voice reverted to its natural surly state. "Because that means something, okay?"

"What does it mean?" Genuine curiosity leached into his voice. 

"It means we're still gonna help you get your girl, Fido, even if it gets ugly along the way," he answered. He sighed, shaking his head. "Look, I get it, okay? I get that this is frustrating, but this is just how we do things."

"Why?" Sirius asked, voice stripped of any hostility by the sheer need to understand this. "Why try when you know it'll just keep ending like it did tonight? With a busted up human and two lousy pints of blood. How does that make you any less of a monster than the things you hunt?"

Rick ran his tongue along his teeth, once again falling silent as he stared at the ground now. Sirius made a fist, trying to find some way to alleviate the pain in his wrist.

"I... I try not to look at the bigger picture," he finally said, raspy voice low. "We do it because that's just what we're supposed to do. And sometimes we do manage to save 'em, you know?"

"Sure, but define save," Sirius said, not meaning to sound quite as cruel as he managed to. "You mean alive? Because that seems like a pretty low bar." He cocked his head at the Hunter, resigned to the fact that this was going to sound terrible and might piss Rick off enough to get himself shot. Or at least punched. "How many of them ended up in a rubber room after you were finished? How many ended up taking the fast way down off a high-rise?"

Rick's skin took on a milky quality under the perpetual five o'clock shadow he sported. He slowly shook his head. A hand rubbed absently at his chest, right over his heart, the movement naturally drawing Sirius' eye as he wondered if the Hunter had a knife or something in the front pocket of his jacket.

Sirius' frown sharpened suddenly as his attention was centered right on the Hunter. His eyes met Rick's, and he opened, then closed his mouth, scowling. He tilted his head, listening hard now.

He couldn't hear anything.

A sharp breath from the Hunter snapped Sirius' concentration. He glanced up to meet Rick's eyes, which were nearly black in the low light.

"It's all about what you give, Fido. It's about the fact that you were ballsy enough to try, even though you know you might end up spitting blood and teeth for the effort. That's why we have to do it this way. Because the easy way will just drag us down and turn us into something ugly, like—" he cut himself off sharply.

"Like me?" Sirius finished for him, unperturbed by his words. They were just the truth, after all.

 Rick let out a heavy breath through his nose. "I'm sorry that she's down there. I truly am, but we can't just say to hell with everything else for one chick."

People kept saying this to him, and yet it never rang true. It fell flat and empty against his ears, and just served to spike his temper.

"Now would you just come back?" Rick asked, voice sharp and short. And just a little too loud.

Sirius narrowed his eyes, filing a few things away for discussion at a later point. He didn't budge, and Rick sent him a glare that was impressive by any standard.

Slowly, he said, "On two conditions."

"Those being?" Rick asked warily. 

With a small shake of his head, he nodded at the blood in his hands. "We go now to find the next demon. If we're going to do this the hard way, then we're just going to do it. No stopping to pull ourselves together, none of that bullshit that will just stretch this out forever."

"We're still going to need to sleep and eat and a few other things, Fido," Rick said, voice dry and a bit strained. "We're human, remember?"

"So was she," Sirius shot back, knowing that wasn't completely true. When Rick raised a suspicious eyebrow, he amended, "A little. What happened here wouldn't have slowed her down one bit, not if there was something she needed to finish. She could go all night and all day and then some."

This earned him a knowing smirk, which he tried to ignore. "My point," he continued, "is that if she could do that, then why can't you?"

"Probably being a little immortal helps that," Rick said, nodding. The movement was somehow sarcastic.

Sirius just sighed. "Either that's what happens, or I just go find the demons by myself and you can follow the trail of bodies to meet me at Valentia's."

This made the Hunter's expression go from entertained to dark and intense. His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed and nearly glowing with anger.

Sirius blinked. No, not nearly glowing. Swirls of gold really were shimmering in his otherwise dark grey irises.

Then, Rick blinked and it was gone. "Fine," he hissed. "But we're not doing something that will get us killed like not sleeping or eating and then hunting fucking demons, comprende?" 

"Fine. I can live with that," Sirius said, trying to keep his words efficient, but his mind was still scrambling over what had just happened. 

"What's the second thing?" This was also said warily, though perhaps just a bit more so.

"I think you and I need to find a moment to talk about some things," Sirius said, even though he was already wondering if he'd really seen and heard what he thought he had.

Rick's reaction solidified his suspicions. The Hunter tensed, the fingers of his right hand going up to the left side of his chest for a second before he consciously forced it back down to his side. His tongue touched his upper lip as he stared at Sirius, then he nodded tersely.

"Alone."

"Of course." Sirius couldn't stop a small, smug smile.

"Can we just fucking go now?" Rick snarled, shoulders tensed defensively up around his ears, the collar of his jacket bristling with his indignation.

"Wait, I've got one more," he said, even as he started to walk with the Hunter back to the abandoned house.

Rick cast him a side-eye that probably should have cut his throat. When Sirius just raised an eyebrow and began to slow again, he swore under his breath and nodded.

"You tell the other two that we're going now if you all really have to leave that girl's body somewhere it'll be found."

"Jesus." Rick shook his head. "Can't you just give them a minute, man?"

"A minute to what?" he groaned, letting his head fall back for just a moment as they walked down the road. "Wipe away fingerprints?"

He frowned to himself, wondering if that actually worked on a body. He seemed to remember that it was a little more complicated, but couldn't immediately pull up the memory and soon decided he didn't care all that much.

Rick sighed heavily through his nose, drawing something out of his pocket. "Alex is a little messed up about what happened. She thinks it's her fault."

There was a small crinkling sound, and Sirius realized it was a pack of cigarettes just as Rick pulled one out using his teeth. He shoved the pack back into his pocket, then produced a lighter. As they walked, he flicked the lighter open, trying to spark it.

It didn't catch, and after the sixth or seventh try, Rick finally just swore and threw the cigarette down onto the road.

Sirius was frowning again. Rick didn't smell like a smoker.

He wondered if it was a newly acquired habit, then dismissed that. Even if it was, he still should have been able to smell the tar on his breath. He realized he was staring at the Hunter when Rick suddenly turned to glare at him.

"What?" the Hunter snapped, irritated.

Sirius just shook his head mutely, turning his attention onto the house. They started to walk down the gentle slope that the house sat at the bottom of.

"Don't tell Alex about that," he muttered.

With a snort, Sirius shook his head again. "Why would I?"

"Right. You don't care," Rick said, then heaved out a long sigh and lengthened his stride a little. "You can wait out here. I'll go talk to them."

Sirius stopped by Caleb's truck and leaned against the paneling of the bed. Perplexed, he watched the Hunter skip the rotted step, then disappear into the house. He had never felt quite so summarily dismissed before, Rick's words nipping at him in a way he would have never expected.

The sound of Galloway's soft laugh somewhere off to his right made him grow still, afraid to turn. Though, admittedly, he didn't know if he was worried that he would turn and see her, or if he was scared that he would turn and she wouldn't be there.

Maybe you're starting to like him, she teased. Just a little?

"Don't be ridiculous," he murmured. "He's a pain in the ass."

He's surly, not very nice and really couldn't care less about what anyone thinks, she corrected. Oh, and he's definitely hiding a major league secret. He's basically you, except he can carry silver bullets.

Sirius just scoffed at her, then grew somber when he realized the only one he was scoffing at was himself. Still, he whispered, "I'm trying, Galloway. I'm still coming to get you."

Only silence met him for a long time. Just when he was sure he'd been abandoned by even his madness, she whispered in his ear, You need to hurry. I need you to come get me.

This sent a shiver though him and he finally turned, just to remember that he truly was all alone. Raised voices were coming from the house now, letting him know there were still people in this world, but that didn't seem to take away anything from the great, dark chasm inside of him.

He missed her.

It was such a silly little feeling. So small in comparison to the crushing guilt and tearing pain.

Yet it held sway over him anyway, eating away at his core. He'd never missed anyone before, always more content with the passing company of imperfect strangers than anything else, and he didn't know what to do with the feeling.

He was worried that if he missed her for too long, he'd start to forget why he missed her. That he would start to forget the exact reasons—like he missed the way her hair smelled, or the way she sighed when he kissed her, or the way he was always surprised by how strong she was.

The idea that he might forget the exact curve of her mouth when she smiled, or the little indent she left in her lip after biting it was terrifying. 

Mostly because he didn't know if that was something that could actually happen or not.

He didn't know if you could think about someone who was missing so much that their memories would fade, like a photo taken out of a pocket and looked at one too many times. 

The door slamming open startled him badly, making him flinch and protectively cradle the blood to his chest. A sour looking Caleb came storming out, soon followed by a pale Alex and an angry Rick. 

Their appearance didn't do much to pull him from his melancholy, and all he could think was that he didn't even have anyone to ask about his thoughts of moments ago. 

About if it was possible to forget anything about someone he loved so fiercely.

Which just made him wonder if he actually loved her as much as he thought he did. This, in turn, triggered a sick feeling of doubt, which was drowned by the thought that he couldn't possibly hurt this much over someone he didn't actually love.

Then the whole wretched pattern would start over again, and he'd begin to doubt that she loved him, instead of the other way around. 

Shaking his head to try and physically knock these thoughts away, he climbed carefully into the truck, the air thick with Caleb's fury.

Neither of them spoke, which was just fine with Sirius. Headlights in the passenger-side mirror caught at his eyes, and he looked back to find Rick and Alex following them back to Paradise.

He had something a little more pressing to think about anyway, and he gladly turned his thoughts away from who he was missing to the mystery present in front of him.

There was something strange about Rick Winters, and Sirius needed to find out what it was before it got him killed or prevented him from getting Galloway out of Hell.