"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."

- Friedrich Nietzsche

                                                                              ***

Galloway parked in a dismal, abandoned factory on the outskirts of Kansas City. She had been driving long enough that the blood from the poor people at the diner was dry and itchy on her skin. Her hands in her lap, she sat for a moment, shaking.

Then, she made the mistake of looking at Sirius.

Her stomach heaved and she scrambled out of the car. She made it about two steps away before her dinner made a second appearance. By the time she was done, she was sweaty and shaking. Turning, she found Sirius standing by the car, looking uncertainly in her general direction. 

"I can't remember the last time something made me sick like that," she croaked.

"It's the smell," he said, voice quiet.

As soon as he mentioned it, she wrinkled her nose against the combined scents of old copper and something that was disturbingly like barbeque.

She looked down at her hands, at the brownish-red splattered all over her arms, then looked at Sirius. The right side of his face had been turned into a charred, bleeding mess by the silver powder still burning and cutting into his flesh.

Galloway shuddered and walked over to him. "Come on," she said, sliding her arm around his waist. "Let's find someplace we can get cleaned up."

He didn't argue, draping an arm over her shoulders as she guided him through the factory and out into the night. The stars were old in the sky, but they still had a few hours to go before daylight.

She led them down the more abandoned side roads, not wanting to test her ability to make someone forget two people covered in blood. Sirius kept trying to touch his face, but she stopped him. "It'll only make it worse."

His fingers tightened around her shoulder. "It burns."

"Just a little longer," she said, heart aching.

He stumbled over a buckle in the concrete, showing he still hadn't recovered his sight. Tightening her hold on him, she resisted the urge to pick up her pace. It wasn't really necessary when they rounded a corner and she let out a long breath of relief.

"Can you tell me which one is vacant?" she asked, pitching her voice so low she nearly couldn't hear it.

Sirius tilted his head toward her and she grasped his chin, turning his face toward the row of motel rooms facing them. She looked across a slab of pavement to the darkened manager's office that was separate from the building where people actually stayed. Even if someone was in there, they wouldn't see her or Sirius on the far side of the building.

She led him to the farthest rooms, and Sirius let her move him past three doors before he came to a dead stop. He reached out tentatively until his fingers found the wood of the door and he listened for a moment. "This one."

Galloway stepped toward him, and he wrapped an arm around her waist before darkness snaked around them and he pulled them through the door. She shuddered and brushed at her face, trying to get rid of the unpleasant sticky sensation his little parlor trick always left her with.

Sirius was whining, his teeth clenched and the side of his face smoking slightly. Galloway's stomach lurched again, but she shoved the feeling to the side, helping him to the bed. Placing her hand on the side of his face that was less damaged, she said, "Hold on. Let me get a washcloth."

He flinched and shook his head. 

"Sirius, I have to do something." She couldn't stomach the idea of just sitting on her hands while he was in pain.

Pulling away from his grasp, she went into the bathroom and soaked one of the washcloths with cool water. She turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the dimly lit mirror and choked back more nausea.

She dropped the washcloth back into the sink and tore at the zipper until she finally had it down enough to shimmy out of the dress. It dropped to the floor with some resistance as the material tried to cling to her.

Knowing that the removal of the dress probably hadn't helped much, she snatched up the washcloth and hurried back into the room to find Sirius had gouged claw marks into the side of his cheek. She made a small moaning sound she didn't mean to make, and his eyes moved toward her general direction.

"I didn't mean to," he whispered. "I just touched it and my claws did the rest."

"You need to get those things under control," she muttered, kneeling down in front of him. His knees pressed into either side of her waist as she placed her free hand against the left side of his face—that side hadn't been burned as badly as the right. Not thinking about how much this was going to hurt, she said, "You have to let me keep it there for a second, hopefully I can get some of the silver to stick to the cloth."

His hands were shaking and he was staring somewhere to the left of her. His eyes were cloudy white, blood leaking from the tattered eyelid. Not letting herself think, she pressed the washcloth against the side of his face. Sirius snarled and tried to yank away, but she didn't let him.

"You're okay, you're okay," she soothed, the washcloth turning steadily black. He turned his head and it dragged the cloth across his face, removing layers of skin. Swearing as he yelped, she said, "Baby, you have to stay still."

Sirius shook beneath her hands, and she finally removed the washcloth. Smeared into the fabric, stuck along with pieces of flesh and blood, silver sparkled dimly, but it didn't seem like enough to her. She didn't have the stomach for a second round, though. Neither did Sirius, judging by how he cringed away from her.

She covered her nose with a hand as the burnt smell of his flesh hit her.

"Told you," he panted. "Just have to...wait."

Her hands fell to rest on his legs. "Nothing will help?" she whispered

He laughed, though it was more of a painful gasp. "Unless you can get your hands on a few pounds of pharma-grade heroin, no. Afraid not, sweetheart."

Making a distressed sound of her own, she leaned forward, pressing her already bloody face into his gore soaked t-shirt. 

He dragged his fingers through her hair. "The blood is itchy, though."

Her eyes popped open. "Running water on that will be murder."

"That's not what I was thinking."

When she looked up in surprise, he felt around beside him until he found the washcloth. Using the side that didn't have bits of skin on it, he swiped the damp cloth along her cheek, his mouth in a half-smile that he couldn't hold for very long.

A small laugh made its way out, startling her, and she shook her head. Pursing her lips, she looked at him, then nodded. Flinching, she remembered he couldn't see that. "Fine. But only if you behave," she said.

He gestured toward his ruined face. "What am I going to do?"

Galloway went back into the bathroom and filled the sink with water, soaking a hand-towel before she went back to Sirius. He sat up from where he had been sprawled on the bed, and she grabbed the hem of his shirt. Carefully, she lifted it over his head, taking pains not to brush the fabric against the wound.

He hissed when she wasn't completely successful, and she grimaced before picking up the hand-towel. Placing her hand on his sticky shoulder, she rubbed experimentally at his collarbone, pleased when it didn't just smear the viscous substance around. Sirius sighed as she worked her way farther down his chest.

She jumped when he said, "I can't tell what you're thinking."

"How did they break the link?" she asked. "I thought only Theron could do that?"

He swore when she brushed the side of his neck, mistaking the burned skin there for pieces of flesh stuck to him. She muttered an apology and he said, "I don't know. Probably some paper work that makes them a proxy or some shit. Either way, I'm sorry it's gone."

Galloway had to stop to rinse the towel out. "Me too."

Sirius' hand came up to her waist and he made a low sound of approval when his fingers met bare skin. He shook his head. "You don't... You wouldn't have wanted to spend a whole lot of time in here. Dangerous place."

He tapped a finger against his temple and she scoffed, making her way down the swell of his biceps. She worked in silence, only looking at his face when he said, "I still can't tell what you're thinking."

Her hand slowed as she cleaned off the side of his ribcage. It shook against him and his hand immediately came up to cover hers. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

"They killed all those people in the diner."

Sirius bowed his head with a heavy sigh. He was silent for a long moment, then took the towel from her. He brushed his hand along her shoulder. "I'll finish up here. You go take a shower."

She blinked, then blinked again, lips parting. "What?"

His hand skimmed along her collarbone, then down her sternum to her waist, then over her hip. She shivered at his light touch. 

"You've got blood all over you," he said.

The reminder made her stomach churn again and she stood up. She hesitated, but when he didn't say anything more, she made a beeline for the shower. Stripping out of her underwear, she turned the water on, then stepped in even before it heated up properly.

Again and again she attempted to reach out to Sirius with her mind, but all she found was nothing. She was stuck in her own head, all alone.

The water pattering against the tub sounded like blood hitting the windowpanes at the diner. She didn't dare close her eyes, but it didn't matter. One minute the diner was full of people, the next... It was still full of people, just in many more pieces.

Scrubbing at her hair, she dislodged a chunk of flesh and refused to look at it, afraid she would find a piece of an eyeball or a kidney. She immediately regretted that thought when her stomach heaved and she doubled over, retching.

Nothing came up but bile and when it was over she slumped against the wall of the shower, panting.

She had been so confident that the demons would have left with them. She had known that it would come down to a fight, but Theron preferred his people to keep a low profile. Exploding an entire diner full of people seemed so far off the reservation that the possibility hadn't even crossed her mind. 

It had been the single most bloody event she had ever been apart of, and that was saying something coming from a monster hunter.

When the water ran clear, she got out and dried off, then looked at her blood-stiff clothes with disgust. Shaking her head, she shoved them into the trash can next to the sink and went into the bedroom.

Sirius was laying on the bed, staring at nothing. He turned his face in her direction when he heard the door. 

"How long did it take for your eyes to heal last time?" she asked, throat sore from being sick. 

He smiled—or tried to. "I...don't know. They did it to me three or four times when I was down there, testing how much damage powdered silver would cause. I would pass out after the second or third dose and wake up all shiny and new again."

Her stomach sank. "Why would they do that?" 

"Are you asking why Hell would try to hurt someone?" he asked dryly.

"I'm asking why they would bother with the silver," she snapped, then winced. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't go getting all nice on me now. I don't like nice people."

Galloway narrowed her eyes, then sighed in defeat. "Why would they bother with the silver? That wouldn't torture any Soul. Not until it turned into a demon."

Sirius shrugged. "Hellhound control. We aren't really known for our sweet dispositions."

She wanted to laugh. She knew it was a joke. All she could manage to do was tug the towel tighter around her. Slowly, she said, "Theron let those demons explode all those people."

"I know." His voice was a low growl. "He's not pulling his punches."

Part of her understood that he lacked any empathy concerning those people. Part of her knew that he just didn't care. But she pretended like he was as upset as she was, because it was better than thinking she was the only one coming apart at the seams.

Sirius scooted himself up the bed with more than one choked on curse. He lay down and patted the mattress beside him. "He's pulling out all the stops. Do you still disagree with me about killing them permanently?"

Her immediate instinct was to say that she did, in fact, disagree. But then she thought about how they had killed probably twenty people back there. Two people with demons riding shotgun versus twenty people leading normal, happy lives.

She kind of hated the fact that she was even willing to weigh one against the other.

Shaking her head, her wet hair brushing her shoulders, she whispered, "Not anymore."

Sirius stayed silent, then held his arms open. Galloway let the damp towel slide to the ground and crawled under the covers, huddling into him. He held her against his chest, tangling their legs together. She closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat. 

"Why do you hate me?" he asked, his fingers drawing gentle patterns across her bare skin.

She let out a shaky laugh. "It was all drenched in blood."

"Yes," he said patiently, "I understand why you're laying here next to me completely naked. What I can't understand is why you couldn't have done this when I could, oh, I don't know, see. Or when I could do something about it."

Galloway bit her lip and rasped, "Why can't you do something about it?"

He growled. "The sensation of a burning piece of metal being held to my face has something to do with it. So does the blood dripping into my ear."

She made a sound of sympathy. "Maybe I'll make it up to you later."

Sirius swore at her and she bit her lip, suppressing a smile. They were both quiet until she said, "I have to try and get in contact with Logan."

"They're probably watching him." Sirius rolled her over until her back was pressing into his chest, his arm around her waist. She gnawed on her lip again, and Sirius said, "I wish you wouldn't do that."

Galloway tried to twist around to look at him, but he didn't let her. "How did you know?"

"I could hear it," he groused. He stroked a thumb along the bottom of her ribcage. "Do you really think it's smart to drag him into this?"

"Logan's been in this as long as I have. That's what you get when you help a scrawny, thirteen year old Hunter track down a ghoul who's posing as a doctor so they can munch on dead patients." She laced her fingers through his to stop their wandering. Sirius huffed, but didn't pull away. Shaking her head, she said, "If I don't talk to him, he'll just find me on his own. Especially if Caleb went back to his house."

A low growl rumbled through Sirius' chest and she sighed. Wearily, she said, "We've been over this."

"Yeah, well, I still blame him. And I am going to continue to blame him for everything that happens from here on out."

"Shouldn't you be blaming me?" she asked.

Sirius kissed the back of her neck. His voice more than a little angry, he said, "No. If he had just left after he let you get bit by that werewolf, you never would have known the difference. Maybe Theron would have sent another Collector after him. Or even if you did have to kill him, you would have been able to, because he wouldn't mean anything to you." He paused. "Why does he mean anything to you?"

Galloway got the feeling that she could have spent years explaining this, but he wouldn't be able to understand. He just didn't have the capacity. With a sigh, she tried anyway. "I saved him and he knew my family and he's a Hunter. He was willing to help me out and I've been around enough to recognize a good person when I see one. Caleb's a rare breed, Sirius, and I wasn't about to be responsible for wiping it out."

"But he's the one who signed the Deal!" Sirius burst out, then ground his teeth together. His arms tightened around her, like he was afraid she would get up.

"If I can forgive you your sins, why wouldn't I be able to forgive him his?" she asked. "Especially when I did the exact same thing?"

This made him fall silent and she wished she could see what he was thinking. His breath brushed across her shoulder in a defeated sigh, and she knew he was dropping it. 

His voice still a little stiff, he said, "Fine. You let him go. That's it. Now you have a brand on your Soul that says you're a traitor to Hell, you can be used for the Hell-gate spell, and we have demons who want to turn our insides into tasty side-dishes chasing after us. But yeah, I can see why you let the bastard go."

She closed her eyes. Maybe he wasn't going to drop it after all. 

Galloway really had no idea how to argue this with him. She knew he had a very narrow scope of understanding, and that scope fell under two headings: good for Sirius, or bad for Sirius. By the virtue that he loved her, this extended to her, but Sirius seemed primarily concerned with her physical well-being over anything else. 

She tightened her grip on his hand. "We've had this argument already. Caleb is important to me. So is Logan, and...occasionally Rhys. Milo's on that list, too. So are you. I'm sorry that you can't understand that, but you are going to have to deal with it. Next item on the agenda, please."

She felt his claws brush against her stomach and a snarl that was probably more vicious than he intended ripped its way free. He shook his head, growling softly at himself before he snapped, "Okay. Fine. Demon blade in Las Vegas?"

She frowned, tugging his arm tighter around her. "Do you have any guess concerning what that will cost us?"

He was quiet for a second and her frown deepened until he said, "Maybe."

"Feel free to share with the class," she replied dryly.

His breath was cool again on her shoulder when he sighed. "Demon blood. She's wanted to get her hands on the stuff for years, but could never manage. I couldn't tell you the number of times she's asked me to get her that particular poison."

Galloway's mouth skewed to the side, her nose wrinkling. But before she could argue, he said, "It will be worth the price. Otherwise, demons keep finding us and exploding diners full of perfectly innocent civilians."

"Is there a reason you always have to fight dirty?" she hissed.

"Yes."

"That being?" she asked.

He kissed the back of her neck again. "I've found something I want to fight for. I don't intend to lose. I won't lose."

"Even if I don't like it?" She bit at her lip again, wondering if she should have even asked that question.

"Uh-huh," he said, unconcerned. "You don't have to like how I win."

"You seem awfully sure of yourself," she said a little coldly.

He shrugged. "You knew what you were getting yourself into as soon as you pulled me into the car that night. You knew what kind of monster you were letting in."

Galloway let out a disgusted snort, even though he was right. 

His lips brushed across her shoulder and she rolled forward so he couldn't keep kissing her. Sirius snickered and said, "Demons don't play by the rules, sweetheart. And Theron isn't enforcing any. So just think of it this way." He pulled her back into his chest, placing his mouth on her shoulder. "Now you don't have to get down in the mud and blood. I'm more than happy to go into the trenches for you."

She rolled over, then made a face when she realized it didn't matter. Either way he couldn't see her. Plus, it had been a mistake to look at the wound again. She immediately softened, placing her fingers gently on his mouth, careful not to touch any of the burnt skin there. "Please don't cross any lines I won't be able to let you come back from."

He didn't so much as blink in response, and she continued, "I'm not saying I won't do what it takes, Sirius. What I'm saying is that there are some things, some people, that I would fight or die for. I can live with doing most anything else, but if the people I love get hurt because of something you or I do to deal with this, that's the thing I won't be able to live with."

"So why are we even having this argument?" he snapped. "It's not like I'm going to throw any of them into the pit. That won't fix anything."

"And if it did fix it?" she demanded.

He was silent, then growled, "Do not ask questions you will not like the answer to."

"That's my line in the sand, Sirius. Do not step over it."

He tipped his chin up, glaring sightlessly at the ceiling. Then his chest seemed to collapse a little and he snarled, "Fine. Is there anything else you aren't going to let me do?"

She mulled the question over, then realized that that was really her only ultimatum. Pursing her lips, she said, "Everything else is pretty much fair game. If she wants demon blood, then I guess we need to start thinking of a way to get that without bleeding ourselves."

Sirius didn't respond for a moment, probably still angry at her, then he said, "Okay. But not tonight."

She gently touched the raw skin next to his mouth, making him flinch. "Are you okay?"

Sirius closed his eyes and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. "No," he said, voice flat.

She settled her head on his chest, veins still a little tingly after their exchange, and said, "I'm not trying to make you mad or hurt you. I just know that you told me I need to draw the lines. I know you didn't mean concerning what we do dealing with Hell, but I know you need it. And I think it's a better plan for both of us to let you know ahead of time, rather than just letting you stumble around in the dark and get in trouble because you didn't know it would get you in trouble."

He let out a long, slow breath. "I know all of that, Galloway. But I don't like it and I'm not going to try to like it. If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get. But don't expect me to be graceful about it, okay?"

"I suppose I can live with that," she murmured. She knew that was about all she was going to get from him.

Sirius snorted, then said, "Can I go to sleep now?"

She jostled him gently with her elbow but nodded, her own eyelids growing heavy as the madness of the day caught up with her. Tilting her head up, she pressed her mouth into the less damaged side of his and he groaned softly.

She kissed his throat, then his chest before laying her head back down.

Sirius' breath evened and slowed, and she wondered, again, what she had gotten herself into.

Then, she realized that whether it was the situation with Sirius, or the one with Caleb, or with Hell, she had jumped into each of those pools with both feet.