"You owe it to yourself to find your own unorthodox way of succeeding, or sometimes, just surviving."

- Michael Johnson

                                                                        ***

A week's worth of cleaning up Debts was just as bad as Galloway thought it would be. The biggest problem being, of course, that the bad couldn't quite balance the guilt she felt for the good.

The worst of the Debts ended up being an old detective who had sold his Soul to collar a serial killer who had been terrorizing his district. Galloway had felt a certain kinship with the man, one Hunter recognizing another, admiring how he had continued to stare Sirius down even as the life drained from him. 

But the guilt clung to her like a tenacious vine.

Most of the other Debts had been what Theron had said they'd be. Stock traders. Not really good, not really bad, just stuck in the middle and desperate. Nothing that she could justify. She just couldn't look in the mirror and tell herself that she was removing monsters from the world.

So, since Galloway couldn't resort to her usual remedy of hunting, she turned to the next best thing.

It was good that Sirius was pretty much always game for a good time and could keep up with her drinking. Galloway had dragged him around the city to a new club each night, trying to drink and move her way into oblivion.

It hadn't really worked. It had only ended with her liking Sirius a little more than was probably advisable, since she was supposed to be more suspicious of him than anything.

But she'd been desperate for some kind of distraction, no matter how ill advised it might be.

There were only three Debts that let her come close to even remotely thinking that she was countering the good Debts. Only three Debts that provided any relief from the guilt: a drug dealer, a wife beater and the illegal dog fighter. People who caused pain.

The drug dealer had been last, and he'd been violent.

Galloway staggered as she tried to get Sirius up to their room. He leaned heavily against the wall, blood dripping steadily down the side of his leg as she scrambled to unlock the door. When she finally got it open, she helped Sirius to the nearest bed. He released a thin whine—a high pitched, painful sound—when she all but dropped him on the mattress.

She straightened, then looked down at the sticky black all over her shirt. "Aw, Sirius. You got blood all over me."

He gritted his teeth, panting. "I'm real sorry, Galloway! It's not like I was shot or anything!"

Galloway peeled his shirt up to find a bullet hole just under his ribs on his right side, blood leaking from it in a steady pulse. She rolled her eyes. "It's not like it's fatal."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like a son of a bitch!" Sirius twitched, another whine slipping through his clenched teeth. She used a towel to wipe away the blood, trying to see the wound better.

"I'm gonna have to pull it out," she warned before taking his hand, using it to hold the towel in place to stem the bleeding. She went to her bag and pulled out a med kit, grabbing a pair of long tweezers and a packet containing a needle and silk.

"Fan-frickin-tastic." Sirius sighed before draping his left arm over his eyes. "Well?" he snapped, not looking at her. "Have at it."

Galloway frowned at him but took the towel away, wiping once more at the thick blood that welled up before she used the tweezers to get into the wound, digging for the bullet. She hissed when Sirius bucked up, yelping. She moved to where she was basically sitting on his lap, her legs on either side of his waist, trying to keep him pinned down while she attempted to find the slug.

"Stay still, Sirius," she admonished, not quite able to ignore how defined his chest was, even with the task at hand. She wanted to roll her eyes, dragging her thoughts back to the blood currently coating his skin.

Galloway frowned. This wasn't the first bullet she'd had to dig out, but it was the first time she'd had to do it for anyone else and she thanked whoever or whatever might be listening that Sirius was really, really hard to kill.

Sirius only growled in response, his hand coming down to grip at her calf. She felt the tweezers knock against something metal and said, "I got it. If you move, I might lose it."

He squeezed his eyes shut, holding his breath, his muscles tensed and shaking with the effort. Galloway moved the tweezers forward slowly, wishing she could actually see, and grabbed the bullet. She jumped and cursed when the hand on her calf tightened and she could feel his claws digging into her skin.

When Galloway was sure she had a good grip on the bullet, she started pulling, feeling the resistance as muscle and skin seemed to hang on to the metal. The blood still pouring from the wound made a nasty sucking sound as she finally yanked it free. Sirius arched up, choking on an impressive stream of swear words before he slumped back to the bed, breathing hard.

She smiled, pressing her free hand into his side, making him flinch again. She held the bullet up and waved it at him, ignoring the blood that seeped between her fingers. Sirius smiled tiredly and gave her a thumbs up before closing his eyes.

After cleaning of his side and her hands as best she could, Galloway said, "It needs to be stitched. Unless you want to lay there and bleed until it closes by itself?" Sirius shook his head, eyes still closed. She bit her lip, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly. "Do you want me to wait a minute or..."

He shook his head again weakly, his dark hair matted with sweat, his skin sallow. "No," he rasped. "I don't think you could get it to hurt much more than it already does, so you might as well just get it over with."

She frowned, then grabbed the packet and tore it open, getting a good grip on the tiny, curved needle. When she hesitated Sirius opened his eyes, the pupils dilated. "Just do it," he growled.

His grip on her leg tightened again when she started stitching, and she took a moment to look down. She didn't see any blood, which surprised her, but she would have claw marks in these jeans too. 

Galloway scowled, these had been the last pair that didn't have claw marks.

When she finished, she just sat there for a minute, taking in the wreckage. Sirius' side was painted black and the bed was soaked, stained as if by ink. The sheets were shredded where he'd clawed them and, looking around, she could see splotches of black staining the floor as well.

She jumped when Sirius traced a lazy circle on her hip with a still-clawed finger. With an amused, exhausted smile he said, "Given our current positions, I'd have to say, almost worth getting shot." He chuckled, fingers traveling lower, skimming her thigh. "Almost."

Galloway blushed when she realized he was pointing out the fact that she was still on top of him. She flung herself sideways and rolled off the bed, making Sirius yelp again when the movement jolted him.

She stood there with her heart pounding in her chest, staring at him. What was he doing? He wasn't supposed to say things like that.

He smiled at her again, the expression practically smouldering despite the fact that he looked like death warmed over. Galloway crossed her arms and said, "Next time you get shot you can play doctor all by yourself."

Sirius laughed, the sound way too throaty, then winced when it hurt. "Is that what we were doing?" He looked over at her, a smile playing around his full lips. "Does that mean I should expect help in the shower too?"

Her lips parted in shock, but before she could snap anything back, her phone rang. She shot Sirius a death glare that just made him laugh again and pulled out her phone.

It was Logan.

Almost sighing in relief, Galloway said, "I have to take this." She bolted from the room, out the door, hitting the answer button. "Hey, Lo. Is it done?"

"Not quite," Logan answered and she frowned.

"Then what's up?" She leaned on the railing, looking down into the parking lot of the motel.

"Where are you?" Logan asked.

"Chicago." Her frown deepened. "Why?"

Seemingly to himself, he muttered, "Maybe I am psychic." Then, more loudly, he said, "I have a friend in the Windy City who could use some help."

Galloway waited for a moment. "Okay?" she asked, drawing out the word. "So why call me?"

She could almost hear Logan's grimace. "She needs a Hunter's help."

"So you immediately thought of me?" Galloway grinned. Before Logan could respond, she said, "What does she need help with?"

He sighed heavily. "Why am I not surprised that you sound so excited? She's got a poltergeist."

Her grin slipped into another frown. "Aww. That's so easy. Isn't she a witch? Can't she just take care of it?"

Logan scoffed. "Why do you assume she's a witch? Just because I'm a witch, doesn't mean all my friends are. That's kind of snobbish."

Galloway laughed. "I was gonna go with racist."

"Hilarious," Logan responded dryly. "So is this you seeing sense and turning down a hunting job to be a good little Collector girl?"

"Hell no!" She straightened up, indignant. "I'll do it! Just tell me where she is and I'll be there late tonight."

"How are you going to give your new pet the slip?" Logan asked, probably with a scowl at the mention of Sirius.

"Umm." Galloway turned around. "Hold that thought."

Not daring to breathe, she nudged the door back open to find Sirius passed out on the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily as he slept. Galloway grinned before sneaking over to grab her keys.

Sirius must have bled more than she had realized for him to be out like that. It took quite a bit to knock a Hellhound on his ass and she felt a tiny flicker of worry that she just as quickly banished.

She wasn't going to worry about it too much, though, since it was letting her slip her figurative leash for the night—something she desperately needed. He could sleep it off just fine without her there.

Galloway closed the door behind her and half-skipped down to the car. "What's the address?"

                                                                       ~~~

The poltergeist had been as easy as Galloway had thought it would be. Logan's friend had been prepared with a name for her at least, so she hadn't had to bury herself in old city records or newspaper clippings, which was nice since ghosts tended to involve a lot of research.

Logan's friend wasn't a witch but she was weird enough to be one. For some reason, she had thought it would be a cool experience to buy a haunted house. She just hadn't known that the ghost in question had been a dark witch when it'd been alive.

The hard part ended up being actually getting to the body. Most ghosts were trapped in one of two places: the area they had died, or with their bodies. This poltergeist was no exception and had more or less followed them to his grave, which was conveniently only about three blocks away.

He'd been rather violent, so they'd had to keep blasting the ghost with salt and iron, taking it in turns to actually dig up his grave while he tried to rip their throats out.

Galloway had been pushed into the grave by the ghost to land on top of his moldering bones and had to scramble out by herself, glad that the ghost was old and his grave wasn't exactly six feet deep. She was also thrilled that he wasn't a newer body; dead guy was a smell that just wouldn't quit. 

She'd poured blessed salt and gasoline on his corpse before dropping a match in to watch him disappear in a screaming mass of orange sparks.

She got back to the motel covered in grave dirt and ghost slime.

Closing the door quietly behind her, she jumped when Sirius said, "You smell like death."

He didn't bother to turn on the bedside lamp, and she guessed that he could probably see her just fine in the dark. "You really know how to charm a girl, don't you?" she said dryly.

She felt along the wall and flicked on the light, making Sirius squint into the sudden brightness. If she hadn't been so exhausted, she might have had some sort of reaction when she realized he was completely naked.

All she managed to do was frown. "Why don't you have any clothes on?"

Sirius shrugged. "I woke up to find you gone and dragged myself to the shower since I was all itchy from the blood. It hurt too much to get dressed again." He raised an eyebrow. "At least, not without help."

Galloway blinked, which was about as close to an eye roll as she was going to get. "Did you take all the hot water?"

Sirius smiled. "I guess you'll find out."

His tone was back to surly and she wondered if she'd just killed any progress she might have made with him. Galloway frowned as she stumbled into the bathroom. She didn't want to make progress, did she? What kind of progress?

Looking at her dirt-smudged face and gnarled hair, she tried to think through the tired fog in her brain. It took a minute to remember the only progress she wanted was that which got Sirius away from her so she could go back to her normal life.

Which meant she'd definitely taken a step backwards.

She threw her nasty clothes into the sink in an attempt to save them, running some water so they could soak. Moving gingerly, she stepped into the shower, moaning when the hot water hit her aching muscles.

She twitched when Sirius yelled, "Yeah! There's hot water!"

Galloway sighed and started to scrub at her hair, the muscles in her arms shaking as she tried to keep them at head level and scowled. She really hated grave digging. With a passion. It always looked so much easier in the movies.

She stayed in until the water ran cold and was almost asleep standing up as she dried off. Putting on a pair of sweats and an old sports bra, she padded back into the main room to find Sirius mercifully asleep again. 

She took a look at his stitches, trying to ignore anything else. They looked fine as far as she could tell so she all but fell into bed, curling under the blankets. She groaned when she realized that she'd forgotten to turn off the lights before staggering out of bed and switching them off.

This time she fell onto the mattress and was asleep before she could even get under the covers.

                                                              ~~~

When Galloway woke up, sunlight was streaming through the window and Sirius had clothes on. Kind of. At least he had pants on.

Galloway watched in fascination as he pulled out the stitches, leaving nothing in their wake. Not even a scar. He shifted slightly and she stifled a gasp as the sunlight threw the scars he did have into a sudden relief. There were so many.

He looked up at her and the sunlight turned his sapphire eyes to an incredible aquamarine, his long lashes casting slight shadows over his cheekbones. "Can we go home now?" he asked tiredly.

Galloway nodded, then groaned when all of the muscles in her neck, back and shoulders cussed her out.

"That's what you get for grave digging," he said, smirking.

Heedless of her aching body she sat upright, staring at him in astonishment. Sirius rolled his eyes, curling his lip in condescension, then he threw a newspaper at her. As Galloway looked at it, he said, "You come back covered in grave dirt, smelling like dead witch and there's a report of a grave desecration."

Sirius sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her through lowered lashes, though the look was more menacing this time than alluring. "Did I wake up with 'stupid' tattooed on my forehead?"

Galloway bit her lip before looking down at the paper again. Sirius sighed, and she watched warily as he ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up wildly. He stood and folded his arms, making her kind of wish he'd put a shirt on.

He glared at her again. "Look, I don't give a damn about the hunting but I'm not cool with you leaving me in a bind when Theron calls because you haven't checked in—like you're supposed to—and I have no fucking clue where you are."

Galloway paled slightly at Sirius' reminder of her responsibilities and her heart sank as she realized that he most definitely would have told Theron about her leaving like she had.

Now he would most likely let Theron know why she had left. Looking at him again, she found that his eyes were now a menacing shade of midnight blue and his mouth was an angry slash as he waited for her to say something.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came up. Sirius growled and his lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing sharpening teeth. "And no, Galloway, this wasn't some phone call I could just ignore. Do you know how handler demons like Theron contact Hellhounds?"

Galloway shook her head, her eyes widening.

Sirius' teeth were long enough to cut into his lip, a thin trail of ink-black blood sliding down his chin. "Mind link. That's how! So, while you were out playing Ghostbuster, I was forced to lay here, wounded for one and with Theron screaming incessantly in my head for another. For two hours, Galloway!"

"I... I'm so—," Galloway started.

"Do not say you are sorry," Sirius snapped, cutting his lip even more as he yanked on a shirt. "I don't want to hear it."

"Then what do you want to hear?" she snapped back, tired of his attitude.

Sirius flung the door open. "The engine to your car taking me home!"

Galloway pulled on her own shirt and grabbed her stuff. 

"Fine!" she snarled, slapping two hundred on the night stand to pay for the sheets Sirius had ruined before storming out of the room, striding toward her car. He stalked along just behind her like some big, angry shadow, then waited impatiently as she unlocked the doors.

He threw himself into the seat and crossed his arms, and Galloway had the sudden thought that he looked like a pouty child. She groaned to herself, then got into the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Sliding easily into the mid-morning traffic, she dug out her phone and dialed Theron, already frowning at the bitching out she knew she was about to receive.

"Theron," came his deep voice after the fifth ring.

She rolled her eyes. Who in the hell else would be answering this number? It was private. "It's Galloway."

There was silence, then: "And?"

"And I'm calling in to report that I've finished my assignments in Chicago."

Another long silence, then Theron said gruffly, "Yes. And?"

Galloway scowled though Theron couldn't see it. "And according to you, that's what I'm supposed to do. So I'm doing it."

"No," Theron growled. "You're doing damage control. Like always."

Galloway waited at a light and, brimming with guile, innocently said, "I don't know what you mean."

Sirius snorted in the seat next to her, but didn't look at her, arms still crossed.

Theron's voice turned dry. "You're too smart to get away with playing dumb, Galloway. I'm sure you know about the conversation I had with the Hound last night while you were out getting Chinese." 

Galloway could practically see the air quotes Theron put around the last bit of that statement.

She looked at Sirius in confusion but decided to go with it. "Yeah. Sirius might have mentioned it. Long lines."

"The Hound," Theron put emphasis on the word like he couldn't stand to say Sirius' name, "possibly needs a muzzle. He's the only reason you're calling, but you should remember that he's not the only one in trouble here."

Now Galloway did look at Sirius, who just glanced at her dispassionately, eyes shuttered, hiding all of his secrets. When he turned away again, she tried to say something, but Theron kept talking. "I've given you plenty of leeway but if you keep screwing up I'll have to seriously re-think your position as a Collector."

"What?" Galloway gasped, every nightmare she'd ever had catching up to her all at once. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sirius finally really looking at her, his face a mask of shock.

She couldn't decide if he was actually as surprised as he appeared, or if he was just a really good actor.

Biting her lip, she couldn't help but think that there was every possibility in the universe that this was Theron really trying to get her stripped of her Soul. That he would go to these lengths, using Sirius as a way to make her screw up badly enough that she would immediately get de-Souled.

That would certainly explain those comments from Sirius last night after she'd stitched him up.

She immediately felt ridiculously paranoid, but she also knew how twisted and tricky demons were.

"That's right," Theron said with relish. "So walk the straight and narrow or say goodbye to your Soul." He hung up without another word.

"Holy Hell," Sirius muttered.

Galloway's chest tightened in fear at Theron's threat, but all she said was, "I am sorry about last night, Sirius. It won't happen again."

Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie, but wasn't he lying to her? Turnabout was fair play right?

"I didn't know, Galloway," Sirius said softly and she was more tempted to believe him than she wanted to be. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, but she didn't say anything.

When they passed the city limits, she finally asked her question. "Why are you in trouble too?"

Sirius' voice was deadpanned, the light illuminating him in a soft gold. "I killed my last Collector."

"Why?" Galloway tried, seeing if he would tell her the truth. Wanting him to tell her the truth.

"Because," Sirius paused, glancing at her, "he wouldn't—"

"Take no for an answer," Galloway finished with him and he smiled, expression angelic despite the light shining off his white, sharp teeth.

"That's right," he sing-songed under his breath and she sighed, confused by the fact that Theron had told her Sirius was in trouble too. It put a small hole in her current working theory about the Hellhound.

But only a small hole.

"Rather curious, don't you think?" Sirius said absently, staring out the window.

Her eyes traced the elegant line of his throat to his defined jaw, finally resting on his pretty mouth. "What is?"

Sirius laughed and Galloway thought the sound should be declared illegal. She bit her lip and went back to concentrating on driving. 

"I just find it interesting that they paired us together."

"Why's that?" Galloway asked, thumbs tapping against the steering wheel.

"I'm thoroughly amused by the thought process that led them to decide that two rule breakers would somehow manage to keep each other on the straight and narrow." Sirius imitated Theron, then shifted in his seat, brushing an unruly strand of hair from his face.

Galloway laughed before sobering abruptly. "I'm trying not to be a rule breaker."

Sirius scoffed. "Obviously you're not trying too hard what with the hunting and all."

She shrugged uncomfortably, shifting gears to urge the car faster down the freeway. Sirius smiled, leaning his head against the rest. "Don't worry. I didn't tell on you."

Weaving through the other cars and without looking at him, she asked, "Why didn't you? It would have been easier. If you knew what I was doing, then why didn't you just tell him like you're supposed to?"

That last bit slipped out before she could stop it and she caught the odd look Sirius gave her.

Still frowning, he shook his head. "Easier for who? You, apparently, would have been taken back to Hell, stripped of your Collector title and de-Souled to become one of those ridiculous, boring demons."

"And yet, I didn't hear any downside in all of that for you, specifically," Galloway countered, the blood draining from her face as Sirius reminded her of the horrible fate in store if she stepped too far over Theron's line.

Sirius didn't say anything for a long time. Finally, all he said was, "Maybe there isn't a downside. After all, I am just a Hound."

She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Chinese food?"

Sirius shrugged. "So sue me, I'm not great at coming up with something on the spot. Plus, I was hungry."

Galloway legitimately doubted that. Well... she believed he had been hungry. She waited to see if he would elaborate as to why he had lied for her, but he didn't seem inclined to say any more. He just went back to staring out the tinted window.

Almost like she couldn't help herself, she kept glancing sideways at him, looking at his reflection in the dark glass. His eyes were half closed, his cheek propped up on his hand.

Galloway bit her lip again, thinking that it wasn't right that someone so beautiful should come from Hell.