"The world breaks everyone, and afterwards some are strong at the broken places."

-Ernest Hemingway

                                                                              ***

"You really must learn to let things go, Sirius."

He swore under his breath as he left the diner. When this was over, he wondered how impossible it would be to kill every last god still on Earth.

Sekhmet was leaning against Rick's car, her arms folded. A black tank top and short, gold skirt left little to the imagination, her legs long and tawny gold, even in the pale illumination of the lamps in the parking lot.

The thought of ignoring her and just continuing to walk crossed his mind, but he knew she wouldn't take kindly to that. He turned slightly to find that Rick was looking out the window, that he'd obviously seen his mistress, but he didn't move to join them. 

A private conversation then.

"Let what go?" he asked, scoffing as he walked toward her. "The fact that he fucking whored me out to any other god who could pay? Or would you rather I didn't bring that up because you were one of those gods? What about the fact that his bitch wife left me in pools of my own blood for days because I didn't look at her in the right way?"

Sekhmet sighed wearily, but he wasn't done.

Baring his teeth, he leaned in close to the lioness, brushing her thick hair aside to whisper in her ear. "I should just let go of the fact that because he wants out, Galloway is screaming and dying over and over again down there?" His hand clamped around her elbow when she tried to step away from him, holding her in place. "Should I just let go of the fact that he bred me for war and didn't care which side I was on, just as long as I kept sending Souls to him? That he'd drain me dry over and over if I didn't meet a quota?"

Sekhmet pulled away from him with a deep growl, then shook her head, closing her golden eyes. 

"I hate him, Sek," he hissed. "I don't sleep at night because I'm always waiting for him to come and sink his fangs in my throat, just so he can laugh while I drown in my own blood."

"You're afraid."

"You're damn right I'm afraid." Sirius shook his head, unabashed. "You don't understand. You don't get the power he has over me. He created me, Sekhmet. He made me. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with me, then force me to thank him like some kind of simpering mongrel bitch when he's done."

"What if he's the only way to retrieve what you need?" she asked, looking slightly ill.

He didn't blame her. She'd never asked about his past before.

Shaking his head, he took a step back. "She's the only one who never used me, Sek. She's the only one who ever cared when I was hurt, or scared, and I can't go back to not having that."

"That wasn't an answer," she said. Then she blinked, eyes going blank like she was listening to something he couldn't hear. "That's not true," she murmured, like she was in a trance. "She did use you, once."

He froze, knowing exactly what she was talking about. "That was different," he said flatly. "She didn't... that wasn't about me."

It had still hurt though. More than he'd anticipated when she'd come back to their room with bloodied, broken knuckles and fracture lines in her mind. Albuquerque had been hard on both of them, but he'd still been sharply wounded when she'd made a move toward him, fulfilling his wildest dreams, just for him to be drowned by her thoughts of wanting to quit. 

To use him as a way to force Theron's hand and get herself dragged to Hell.

Sekhmet placed her hands on the sides of his face, holding him still as she stared into his eyes. A gleam of intense interest sparked in her irises, and worry bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

He felt curious tendrils from her mind pick through his memories, but she was more skilled than Theron, and he didn't know what she was looking for, or even what she found. After a moment of that, she whispered, "Close your eyes."

Breath rasping in his throat, he didn't immediately obey, and Sekhmet placed her hand over his eyes. Her palm was soft, skin silky against his eyelids.

A ripple of magic cascaded from her, buffeting him, and then he was hit be a scent that made him fall slowly to his knees. Her hand stayed over his eyes, but it wasn't as soft now. Familiar, light calluses brushed at his skin. Then it was removed, but he didn't open his eyes.

"Look at me, Sirius," she said softly and he shuddered, chest heaving. "Open your eyes."

He gasped, doing as she said, unable to disobey when she used that voice.

A perfect copy of Galloway stood in front of him, right down to the scent. Her blonde hair fluttered in the slight breeze, and a small whine slipped from between his painfully clenched teeth.

"Please," he choked out, "don't. Please stop."

Her hands went to his elbows, pulling him up to his feet. She placed a hand against his face, and his eyes fell half-closed at the painfully familiar touch. His mind knew it was Sekhmet, but his body was screaming for him to press Galloway up against the car and drown himself in her. 

Her other hand knotted itself in the collar of his shirt, pulling him flush against her body. Every line was right, every curve perfect under his hands, which had found themselves subconsciously on her waist.

A sigh escaped her, and he whined again as the scent filled his mouth and nose. Silver and gasoline. Cinnamon and sun-baked grass. He knew the longer she stayed, the more he'd find. He inhaled even more deeply, tasting apples, then woodsmoke with each breath.

She brushed her thumb against the corner of his mouth, and any logical understanding disintegrated. A small, raging snarl escaped him, but he couldn't stop no matter how much he wanted to.

His fingers threaded through her soft hair and her eager mouth moved easily against his own desperate lips. He moved her back until she was pressed against the car, and her arms went around him, holding him as tightly as he held her.

The illusion broke when a self-satisfied purr came from her throat.

A strangled cry escaped him and he jerked away so forcefully he stumbled over himself before falling to his knees, a hand going up to cover his burning mouth. He shuddered, then found he couldn't stop as he stared at her. Everything in him cried to bolt to his feet and take her here and now, in front of God and everyone.

Slowly, Galloway—Sekhmet—knelt in front of him, grey eyes the exact right shade and, to him, softly cruel.

Not blinking, she pressed her mouth to his, but he didn't respond this time. Couldn't move as a storm raged within him, tearing him apart. Only after a moment, and to his great relief and sorrow, did she stop.

"Could you not be content with this?" she asked, taking his hand and placing it on her chest, right over her heart. "Would you not be satisfied like this? With this shape and this voice. This scent?"

"No," he whispered, the sound broken. He gently tugged away from her grasp, curling his hands in toward his stomach. "Would you be?"

Her gaze went over his shoulder, and he knew she was looking at Rick. Horror flashed over her face, and her image flickered. Blonde hair turned black, pale skin darkening to tawny brown. Grey eyes flashed to bright gold.

He breathed a sigh of relief when all he could smell was sand and blood.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. A desert-hot breeze stirred around them, and he closed his eyes, breaking into small pieces as Sekhmet left.

He bowed forward, one hand braced against the rough asphalt, the other covering his eyes as he choked back painful sobs. Tears slipped past his fingers, and hatred for Sekhmet whirled through his chest.

Part of him knew she had just been curious, wondering if that would help.

But all it had done was re-open the wounds that had slowly stopped bleeding since she'd been taken. All he could do was stay on his knees, trying to force air into his lungs, his hands shaking so badly his claws rattled against the ground and put small scratches on the left side of his face.

A nearly silent step nearby had him flinching, cutting his face more deeply. Then a hand was on his shoulder, Rick crouching down next to him. He smelled partially of sand and blood too.

His breath stopped and rage bubbled up, hot and brutal against his already destroyed heart. A snarl ripped his throat and he lashed out, claws searching for any bit of flesh they could find.

Rick let out a shocked gasp as claws raked across his chest, deeply red blood spraying onto Sirius, who drew back, wanting to attack again.

Then the breath was knocked out of him as Rick half-tackled him, driving him down into the pavement. The Hunter pinned his arms to his sides, heavy as he pressed the whole weight of his body down onto Sirius, keeping him mostly still.

Sirius thrashed, blinded by fury and tears, snapping his teeth rabidly at Rick's throat, which somehow stayed just out of reach of his fangs.

"Stop," Rick commanded. "Sirius, stop. This won't make you feel better. This won't take away the hurt."

The words had no effect on him. His claws flexed so far forward the skin at the base of his nails split as he tried to cut into the Hunter's sides.

Mad with grief, he called for the darkness, ordering it to him. The strands crawled reluctantly forward, like even they were afraid of his sorrow-driven insanity.

But eventually they did as he told them to, wrapping around him. Shifting him. Rick swore and tried to get back, but it was too late.

Sirius twisted his much more flexible wolf spine, scrambling out from under him. A growl thundered through the air, coming from deep in his chest. His eyes glowed, whispy streams of blue light drifting around his head. His ears were snapped flat back against his skull, the fur along his spine stiffly ruffled.

His hackles raised and he snarled, flashing his fangs.

Rick was still on his knees, bleeding, his hands raised up in front of him. Obviously trying to calm Sirius, he held his palms out, fingers loose and relaxed.

But Sirius had no capacity for calm.

"Sirius—" Rick started, but that was a mistake.

Even as his animal brain dulled his sorrow, his body still remembered the rage. He wanted to inflict as much as he felt and lunged forward, slamming Rick into the ground. His fangs sank into the Hunter's forearm, making him cry out.

Fear flashed in his grey eyes and Sirius grinned, his teeth grinding against the bones in Rick's arm.

"Sirius, stop," Rick pleaded. "I'm trying to help you. I swear, I didn't know she was going to do that. I didn't even know she was going to be here."

Sirius opened his jaws, Rick yelling hoarsely as it tore his flesh even more. He froze when a clawed paw was placed on his throat, not daring to move as the razor point dipped into the skin right above his trachea.

Sides heaving, Sirius stared down at the Hunter, wondering what would happen if he slit Rick's throat. If he would bleed out, or if Sekhmet would show herself and save him in front of the other two Hunters.

Whispering, most likely afraid to speak any louder, Rick said, "Don't. I know what you're thinking. I know it feels like hurting someone else will make the pain go away." He shook his head minutely. "But it won't. You won't feel better, Sirius, and you're just making it harder to get her back."

"Please," Alex said, making Sirius look up sharply and Rick flinch under him as the claw in his throat twitched.

She was milk-white and on her knees barely three feet away from them. Her hand was stretched out beseechingly, fingers trembling hard. Tears made her eyes bright and her chest hitched with each terrified breath. Caleb stood right behind her, face blank, like he had no idea what to do.

"Sirius, we understand," she said, a tear sliding down her cheek. "Please just... just don't do something you'll regret."

Caleb added, "Something we'll all regret."

The fur along his back flattened as he continued to stare at Alex. Then a yelp was forced from his throat as a hand clamped on a sensitive ear, yanking him to the side.

He snarled, but couldn't turn his head, the pressure on his ear nearly immobilizing him. His legs were swept out from under him and he thudded heavily into the asphalt.

Sirius snarled and tried to twist again, but Rick had him effectively pinned. His hand went from his ear down to his throat, holding his head down and cutting off a majority of his air.

A shin was pressed painfully down over his hind legs, keeping him from using those claws, and the Hunter's other hand kept his forepaws immobilized as well.

His bleeding chest pressed into Sirius' ribcage, making it even harder to breathe.

Rick leaned down, breath stirring the over-sensitive fur around his ears, making them twitch crazily. "I need you to shift back. I need you to calm down. I'm not mad. I know you're hurting, but you can't lash out every time something bad happens. Do you understand?"

He couldn't really respond at first. He couldn't think. The hold around his throat loosened and his jaws gaped open, panting hard. Rick didn't get off him, instead placing his hand on Sirius' shoulder.

Eventually his heartbeat steadied, and he called on the darkness to change him back. Rick got up as the strands wrapped around Sirius, turning him back into a person.

A hollow sob rattled in his throat as he sat up, and before he knew what was happening, warm arms and the cool scent of snow and lilies were engulfing him, trying to help hold him together.

Caleb hissed her name, but Rick waved him off, pressing his uninjured hand into his still-bleeding chest.

Sirius shook uncontrollably, hands resting tentatively on Alex's lower back as her fingers stroking over the hair at the back of his neck. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, not even caring that contact with her skin burned him still.

"Go on. Get the fuck out of here," Rick suddenly snarled, startling Sirius into looking up.

He watched as several shocked lookers-on scampered away, tossing disbelieving and fearful glances over their shoulders as they went back into the diner.

Alex put her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "What happened?" she asked softly. "Who was that woman?"

"She..." Caleb started tentatively. "She looked like Galloway. Then she looked like no one I knew."

Sirius looked at Rick, who surprised him by just shrugging. His mouth was tight with either pain or fear, but he knew the Hunter had given him permission to say whatever he wanted.

But it wasn't his fault Sekhmet had done what she'd done.

His voice was raw when he said, "She was another goddess. Apparently what we're doing is gathering a lot of self-important attention. She was just..." His eyes met Rick's, who betrayed no emotion. "She was just trying to test me, I think."

No one had anything to say to that.

After another moment, Sirius pulled gently away from Alex, and they both got to their feet. He swayed, feeling hollowed out and empty again.

His eyes went to the blood dripping steadily from Rick's fingers, pouring from the puncture wounds all along his forearm. His grey shirt was torn and stained nearly black with blood.

It took all his concentration to walk over to the Hunter, who tensed, hand going to the knife in his belt. Sirius raised his hands in truce, and Rick relaxed marginally.

Sirius muttered, "Can you heal him?"

Rick, for his part, looked sideways at Caleb, who just shrugged and they all cast a worried glance at him. They couldn't know really what he was talking to.

The darkness twined around his fingers. Your blood for his, it bargained.

"Deal," Sirius said, then before anyone could stop him, he drew a claw up his forearm, cutting deeply into the vein.

Rick made a sound of shock, then grew still as Sirius grabbed his arm, fingers wrapping over the bleeding puncture wounds.

The Hunters all swore as a tendril of darkness wrapped around Sirius' bleeding arm, gorging itself on the blood offered. They weren't watching the darkness that wrapped over his other fingers to pool over Rick's skin.

He started swearing when the darkness started knitting his flesh back together. Caleb stepped forward to stop him, but Alex held him back.

"Wait," she said, "look."

They both gaped as the bleeding slowed, then stopped. Sirius' ears were beginning to ring and his vision was tunneling, but he pressed the darkness coating his hand against Rick's chest, trying to heal the damage he'd wrought.

He knew the darkness was taking more blood than Rick had lost, but he didn't care. It could take it all as far as he was concerned.

"Sirius, that's enough," Rick said. Under his breath he whispered something in Egyptian and the darkness squeaked, scattering away. 

Sirius wobbled, lightheaded.

"Come on, help me," Rick said to Caleb, and they got Sirius to the truck.

Over the ringing in his ears, he heard Caleb asking if Rick had any idea who that goddess had been. He lolled his head over, just in time to see Rick shrug. Guilt filled his eyes as he lied, shaking his head and saying, "No idea. Another Greek bitch, maybe?"

"Yeah," Caleb muttered. He lowered his voice even more. "I never thought I'd say this, but I almost get why he's so fucked up. Galloway told me once he spent seven hundred years in the pits. Then he's got things like that chick and Persephone always screwing with him. I'd go fucking postal too."

"Careful, Cay," Rick teased wearily, "sounds suspiciously like you might maybe like the guy."

The driver's side door opened, and all three men turned to find Alex standing on the running board. Over the top of the cab, she said, "I'm gonna drive with him, okay?"

"What, why?" Caleb asked, unable to hide the small, anxious look he cast at the truck.

"Just because," she said. "Don't argue. Just drive to Colorado."

"Hey," Rick said with a shrug, already unlocking his car, "you're the map reader. Lead the way."

Caleb reluctantly got into the Chevy with Rick, Alex settling into the the truck. She cast one worried glance at him, but all he did was slump against the door, sick to death of everyone and everything.

By this point, he really didn't care what Logan might decide to do with him. At least he could be pretty sure the witch wouldn't use Galloway to hurt him.

"Thank you," he finally murmured as they got onto the highway.

Alex raised an eyebrow, but didn't question him further. But he didn't have anymore to say, and she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Why do you do these things?" she asked softly. "Why do you do things designed to make people hate you?"

"Because it hurts less to be hated than it does to be loved," he whispered. "I've been hated millions of times. I've been loved exactly once." He turned to look at her. "Can you guess which one I regret?"

"God, that's awful." She pressed her lips into a painful line. "But I kind of understand."

"Caleb?" he guessed, making her stiffen with shock, the wheel wobbling gently and making the truck sway toward the side of the road before she straightened it out.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but he just shrugged. "What? You think I care?"

This earned him a wry snort. "I don't know why I would," she said. Then she laughed, the sound bitter. "I've loved him since I was a kid. I never knew what he did for me. I know that he's hung up on someone else, just didn't know who 'til now."

Sirius had no idea where to even begin on that one.

But Alex didn't need any help. "I want to meet her. She's obviously someone special. I'm just wondering how many of us will wind up with broken hearts because of her."

His immediate, knee-jerk reaction was to defend Galloway. But then he shut his mouth.

She'd been breaking his heart since he'd met her.