"We can all shape our destiny, but none of us get to escape our fate."

- John Constantine.

                                                                                ***

Galloway woke up thinking she was dead. Or at least wishing that she was.

She had been resigned to this fate as soon as she began last night, but hadn't been prepared for just how vicious her hangover really was. It was actually quite impressive, which was saying a lot for someone like Galloway.

She lay there, her head throbbing lightly, and wondered if getting up for a glass of water would really be worth it. Opening one eye cautiously, she immediately slammed it shut again, the dim light in the room excruciating as it burned into her cornea. 

Definitely not worth it.

Galloway was pretty sure that if she just lay still and pretended like she was dead, then maybe her hangover would call time of death and go away.

Much more cautiously this time, she peeked at the clock next to her bed, groaning when she realized what the problem was. She'd only gotten about four hours of sleep—not nearly long enough for her body to burn off the booze.

She lay there, breathing in tiny pants, trying to live through this.

The sound of a door closing was explosive, making her grab her ears and curl up into a protective ball. A small whine slipped between her teeth as her brains tried to leak out of her ears, and her eyeballs tried to jump free of their sockets.

"You look as awful as I feel," came Sirius' hoarse whisper.

Galloway moaned, unable to snap an appropriate response. She risked peeking out from under the protection of the covers, squinting at Sirius to find that he actually looked as awful as she felt. His hair was a mess and his bloodshot eyes had dark shadows under them, making his already pale skin seem sallow.

She peered at the clock to find it was somewhere around seven in the morning, and wished she could just go back to sleep. But everything hurt too much to even let her doze.

Sirius collapsed onto his bed then clutched his head as the landing sent a jolt through his body. His voice still a husky whisper, he said, "I'm never drinking with you again."

"You're the one who wouldn't quit," Galloway croaked. "This is your fault."

He just shook his head, looking balefully up at the ceiling; like the plaster was somehow responsible for their current state of mutual misery.

She watched as he turned his head slowly and he said, "There is another one of those goddamn folders sitting on the table."

"Why are you trying to mess with me, Sirius?" Galloway moaned, burying her face in the pillow. "Isn't it bad enough that I'm trying to ride out a minor brain aneurysm? Why do you want to make it worse?"

Sirius rolled over onto his stomach, forehead resting on his arms to protect his eyes from the brutal light. "Why do you always assume that I want to hurt you?"

"Because you're the reason I feel so terrible right now?" Galloway offered, her stomach rolling. She wondered if eating would make it better or worse.

"No. You're the reason I feel so terrible right now," Sirius snapped, then cringed. Cradling his head in his hands, he mumbled, "I wouldn't mess with you about another freaking assignment, Galloway. I would get no enjoyment out of it. Not right now anyway."

She sighed then rolled out of bed, landing on her hands and knees. It would be a disastrous decision to try walking right now. Galloway crawled to the table and felt around blindly, trying to shield her eyes from the meager sunlight making its way around the side of the blinds. She eventually managed to knock the folder to the ground.

Sirius made a small, distressed sound when the papers rustled and snapped as they tumbled through the air, and Galloway mimicked him, wishing she had been more careful. She kind of felt bad considering that his hearing was already much more sensitive than hers was. Anything that hurt her had to be five times as bad for him.

Squinting and blinking to try and clear her blurry eyes, Galloway peered at the papers and groaned, falling to her side to roll up into a ball again. "Montana," she whispered. "We have to get to Montana in three days."

When Sirius didn't say anything, she crawled to his bed and rested her head next to his arm on the mattress. Her hair must have tickled him because she felt the bed move as he shivered. 

"I don't think I can drive like this, Sirius."

"Well don't look at me," he said, voice muffled by the bedspread. Then he turned his head to squint at her, strands of black hair falling into his eyes.

Galloway had a flash of memory, staring into those eyes as he whirled her around, the notes of a song jumping through the air after them. She didn't move, even when he reached up and flipped an unruly chunk of hair out of her face. The back of his knuckles brushed against her cheek, and she sighed.

Then she pulled away from him by half an inch. He dropped his hand, gaze going to the wall.

With another small groan, Galloway closed her eyes, the beat of her heart staining the inside of her eyelids red as she waited for Sirius to come up with some brilliant solution. Her neck started to ache, and she used what little remained of her strength to climb up onto the bed, sighing inaudibly when her head found a pillow.

Sirius sounded half-asleep when he muttered, "You drive like a lunatic anyway. I say we spend the rest of today sleeping it off, then leave when we're only half past dead."

Galloway barely managed a nod, the sound of her hair rubbing against the fabric of the pillow like needles poking into her eardrums.

When she woke up again, it was full dark and she didn't feel like she'd lost a fight with Death, so she sat up gingerly and looked around.

She was alone.

There was only a moment to let suspicion stir before the door opened, and Sirius came in carrying something that smelled like life.

"Mexican is the ultimate cure-all," Sirius declared, tossing her a warm package wrapped in tinfoil. "It has everything needed to revive the dead. Protein, fat, jalapenos."

Galloway had all but inhaled the burrito Sirius had given to her before he'd finished speaking, the warm food reviving her even more. The spice from the peppers burned away whatever was left of the alcohol in her system.

"Thanks, Sirius. I really appreciate you going out of your way to bring me something tasty after I tried to kill you last night by alcohol poisoning," he said dryly, watching as she licked sour cream off one of her knuckles. "I take back all of the horrible things I've said about you. You're actually an upstanding Hellhound, and I'm really quite lucky that Theron paired me with you. If there's anything I can ever do for you, just name it."

She scoffed, but couldn't help a wry grin. She threw the balled up tinfoil at him, which he dodged easily, and said, "I think what you meant to say was, 'Galloway, I'm sorry that I tried to kill you last night. It won't happen again, and the next time you say we've had enough to drink, I'll listen'."

Sirius grimaced. "That one's probably more likely than mine. I should have listened to you."

She raised an eyebrow, surprised by the admittance. 

He watched as she got up and searched through her bag, scrounging for a hairbrush. She emerged triumphant, then began battling with her snarl of hair. Wincing as she yanked out a few strands, she said, "So, what happened with your friend last night?"

"Who? Khali?" Sirius asked, eyes tracking the movement of the brush. He shrugged. "Just what you saw. He came, he was unpleasant, he left."

"Then you left," Galloway reminded him, defeating one knot just to encounter three more.

His mouth opened then closed, and he looked away from her. "I was just making sure he was actually gone."

Galloway stopped, the brush still tangled in her hair, astonished that he had just given her a plausible answer without so much as a snarky remark. She stared at him, and he bared lengthening teeth at her slightly. "I'm telling you the truth. I thought I'd try it out again since it worked so well last night."

And there's the snark, Galloway thought, a little resigned. She started brushing her hair again, and sighed, "I didn't say you were lying, Sirius."

He paused, narrowing his eyes at her. When she met his gaze steadily, he un-ruffled and said, "Yeah, well. Old dog, new tricks. Blah, blah, blah. You can't just expect me to unlearn all of my training dealing with your trust issues because you decided to share last night."

"So did you," she said, raising an eyebrow.

Sirius smirked, the expression strained and brittle. "Yeah. The difference, though, Galloway? Is that I've already been punished for my offense. You, on the other hand, seem to enjoy flirting with the devil. Dancing with damnation. Which I could appreciate if you didn't seem so damn suicidal."

Galloway was shocked into momentary silence. Then she asked, "What are you talking about?"

He rolled his eyes. "You think you can hide it from Theron forever? He'll find out eventually. He'll find out what you are, and he'll make you pay for it in buckets of your own blood."

Very softly, she said, "Are you threatening me, Sirius?"

"Thre—"Sirius broke the word off in a harsh, exasperated breath. He inhaled deeply, then said, "No, Galloway, I'm not threatening you. I'm warning you. You need to stop hunting. You need to stop now, or eventually it's going to catch up with you."

She finished tying her hair into a ponytail and stood up. She zipped her bag up, shouldering it before going to the door. She opened it, then turned and shrugged a little helplessly. "It always was."

                                                                          ~~~

They were halfway across Indiana when Sirius asked, "Do you regret it?"

Galloway had already been pulled over twice, and her head was a little achy after having to convince two very stubborn deputies that they hadn't actually clocked her going ninety-five miles over the speed limit. But they were making headway in their battle against distance and time as they tried to get to Montana, so she might argue that it was worth it.

"Regret what?" she asked. "You're going to need to be specific when you ask questions, Sirius. I'm too tired to play any guessing games."

"Do you regret telling me?" he asked, eyes glazed as he watched the green fields and quaint farmhouses slip by.

Galloway was quiet for a long time, considering this before she shook her head. "No more than you regret telling me about what you did."

"What's to regret?" he asked flippantly, looking over at her. He tilted his head, studying her. "I never regret anything."

"Anything?" she asked skeptically. "Everyone regrets something. Trust me, I'm an expert in regret."

"I suppose all you Hunters say that," he muttered, eyes going back to the window. He crossed his arms and slumped down in his seat.

She let out a dry laugh. "We have more to regret than most. It's just how it goes."

"So why don't you stop?" Sirius shot the question at her, and Galloway's eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

She sighed wearily but, before she could answer, heard the telltale wail of a siren and looked up to find red and blue lights in her rear view mirror.

"Son of a bitch," she moaned, guiding the Audi reluctantly to the side of the road. She watched as the cop pulled in behind her, then thumped her head against the steering wheel. "It's a woman."

He craned his neck to look out the back window. "So?"

Galloway sighed, fishing for one of the multiple licenses she kept in the glove box, her arm just brushing Sirius' knee. She bit her lip and looked at him. "You think she'd buy FBI or DEA?"

Sirius blinked slowly and said, "Or you could just use your parlor trick."

She smirked, condescension sweet on her tongue as she dug around for an accompanying badge. "My parlor trick doesn't work so well on women." She frowned. "Unless they're, you know, into women. I think my mind control thing has something to do with attraction. It's hit or miss with cops already, all that Type A personality, I suppose. It has yet to work on a woman cop, so I'd just rather not screw around with it, hoping it works."

Galloway settled on the DEA badge, thinking that the cop wouldn't be too familiar with that particular badge here in the middle of nowhere, USA.

She waited for another couple minutes, fingers beating an inconsistent tattoo on the steering wheel. The window hissed as she rolled it down when she saw the cop approaching, and she offered the other woman a small, professional smile, handing over her license along with her badge and ID card.

The woman looked startled, her eyes jumping back and forth between Galloway in the car and the identification in her hand. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Sirius, then swept along the length of the car. When she didn't say anything, Galloway said, "Sorry to be tearing through your district like this, but we were called in suddenly and told to hightail it to Indianapolis. You know how it is, when they say jump, you just ask how high."

Her heart sank when the woman's only response was to ask, "Since when do government agents drive cars that are this expensive?"

She stared at the woman a second too long, and the cop smiled tightly before saying, "I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the car, ma'am."

Galloway did as asked then, looking the woman directly in the eye, said, "Let us go."

The cop froze for a moment, then shook her head. "Turn around and put your hands on the roof of the vehicle, ma'am."

Swearing under her breath, Galloway complied, her mind racing a mile a minute. She waited as the cop patted her down, praying that she wouldn't ask her to pop the trunk. The cop finished and Galloway said, "You're making a mistake. This is just my personal vehicle. I didn't have time to pick up an official. I barely had time to pack a bag."

The cop was looking at the badge again, squinting at it and Galloway held her breath, waiting. She caught the cop's eye again and threw all of her will into it, her voice coming out forcefully. "Let us go."

The cop paused again, longer this time, her eyes glazing over a little. But again, she just shook her head, Galloway unable to seize her in the thrall. The cop flapped the badge and said, "If you are a DEA agent, then I'm sure you wouldn't mind coming down to the station with me to have your superiors confirm it?"

Galloway sighed but nodded. Logan was going to kill her; he hated it when she had to resort to this.

She got into the car and slammed the door, then winced and muttered an apology, not wanting to meet Sirius' gaze. He rubbed at his eyes and said, "I'm going to spend tonight in a cell. Aren't I?"

She shook her head, waiting for the cop to pull away first, debating on just taking off. There was no way the Crown Vic the cop was driving would even touch the horsepower her Audi had. Then she dismissed the idea, realizing it would draw too much attention. That would be a direct violation of one of a Hunter's most important rules. 

Sirius frowned at her, growling slightly, and she grimaced. "Logan and I set up a system a while ago. It's an old Hunter trick."

"Great," he muttered, propping his cheek up on his knuckles. "You never answered my question by the way."

"What question?" Galloway asked absently as she followed the cop.

"Why don't you just stop hunting?" He was staring at her now. "If it gives you so much to regret, why do you keep doing it?"

Galloway didn't answer as they pulled through a tiny town full of old buildings painted fading whites and blues. They parked in front of an impressive red brick building that was labeled as the Kokomo police department.

She got out, and the cop called, "Your partner, too."

Sirius was already out of the car, looking around. Galloway waved an irritated hand, signaling for him to follow her and keep his mouth shut.

They got inside to find the interior of the building was just as sleepy as the outside and followed the cop to a corner office. Galloway handed her a card before she could even be asked and sat down, waiting.

The officer talked to Logan for probably fifteen minutes before she came out and reluctantly handed the card back to Galloway. Almost mumbling, the cop said, "Sorry for the mix up."

Galloway just shrugged and smiled gracefully. "Happens to the best of us. I understand that you had to check, Officer."

The woman nodded and turned away. Sirius opened his mouth, but Galloway elbowed his ribs, making him give her a dirty look. She shook her head, and led the way out of the station.

She had barely cleared the town limits when her phone rang.

Galloway bit her lip and sighed before answering, "I'm sorry, Logan."

"What was it this time?" Logan sounded resigned.

"I'm in Indiana and have to get to Montana in like two days?" Galloway said by way of answer.

"Great," he muttered. "How many more of these calls should I expect?"

"Probably about three. I always get tagged in Nebraska." She grimaced. "If you're curious, DEA agents don't drive cars as expensive as mine."

"Well," Logan mused, "you could always give me the Audi and drive something more sensible."

"Over my dead body," Galloway growled, sticking her tongue out when Sirius snorted. "Besides, this is a sensible car."

"Only because your other cars are colors called things like canary yellow and cherry red and royal purple," Logan said dryly.

Galloway just shrugged, then realized that obviously that wasn't an answer Logan could see, so she said, "Thanks for covering for me. I swear I'll pay you back if you ever have to post bail."

"Who says I'll pay it in the first place?" He snorted, then sighed. "Just be careful."

"Always am, Lo. Love you," Galloway said before ending the call.

"I see we're back to the lying game," Sirius said.

She raised an eyebrow, shifting gears as she waited for him to elaborate.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Hunters aren't careful. That's why they always end up dead."

She bit her lip. "Maybe so. But I can think of worse ways to go out."

"You're all so resigned to a bloody fate, aren't you?" Sirius asked, then shook his head. "Whatever. I get it. You're a Hunter, so you'll die bloody. Nothing I can do to change that."