"When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on."

- Franklin D. Roosevelt

                                                                               ***

"Hey, wake up."

A warm hand shook her shoulder and her eyes flew open. She turned, then sank back against the seat when she realized it was just Caleb. He gave her an odd look, and she realized she must not have hidden her disappointment all that well.

A hazy pink light fell across them, coloring the tanned skin of his face. She yawned, grimacing at how horrible her mouth tasted. Rubbing at his eyes, Caleb said, "I know we need to get a move on, but I'm dying here. Just give me like three hours and I'll be fine."

Perplexed, she looked at the small diner he had pulled into. "You know they frown on people sleeping in places like this, right?"

He snorted, digging a couple bills out of his pocket. Around a yawn, he said, "I thought you might be hungry. Get something to eat while I sleep."

After a moment's hesitation, she took the money but knew she'd never be able to eat. She made a show of going into the diner and ordering a cup of coffee and waited ten minutes. Then, she went back into the parking lot and peered in the window of the truck.

Caleb was pretty much dead to the world, his chest rising and falling steadily with heavy sleep.

Galloway shivered, tugging the oversized hoodie he'd given her to cover her bloodstained clothes closer. Her breath puffed out in small clouds in front of her as she walked, heading toward the outskirts of town. To her surprise, when the sidewalk ended a trail began, winding into a dark little patch of trees.

It was too small to be considered a real forest, but it was enough.

Pine was sharp in her nose as she walked, the branches blocking out the weak light of the rising sun. She paused for a second too long when the trail branched into three other directions. With dismay, she stared at the patch of dirt connecting the four trails.

She'd inadvertently come to a crossroads.

Cautiously, she skirted the middle and took the left-hand path. She walked quickly for another few minutes, then stopped when she came to a small clearing. Dead, dry grass rustled in a soft breeze and the sky was such a pale blue it was almost white. Branches knocked together behind her, the sound ominous. Galloway stepped farther into the clearing, away from the dark trees.

She made it about twelve steps into the open air before it caught her.

Galloway fell to her knees, a sob tearing itself out of her chest. Her arms wrapped around her waist as tears fell into the dirt beneath her, salting the earth. Her heart rattled uselessly in her chest, her ribs making a hollow cage that reverberated with each inconsistent beat.

She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the sound, but didn't attempt to stop the flood of grief.

She never would have guessed it could hurt so much. She was unable to close her eyes, not wanting to replay how he'd been snatched away from her. Not wanting to imagine what they were doing to him. Theron's words rang cruelly in her head with every breath she managed to drag into her reluctant lungs.

The trees were the only witness, watching as she cried over someone she never should have loved in the first place.

But eventually, like all things must, her sorrow ran its course. Her tears stopped and her breathing leveled. Her chest was still hollow and her heart was a weak, almost lifeless thing inside its cage. But that was okay. 

She would be fine just as long as no one else knew or could see how wrecked she truly was.

Slowly, she scrubbed the evidence from her face and stood up, her freshly repaired leg aching with the cold. The sun was up and the light was strong. She'd grieved for about an hour—time something that had slipped by unnoticed. 

She needed to get back and act like nothing had ever happened before Caleb woke up and started asking questions that would kill her. The sun did little to warm the air but she didn't mind all that much, the cold going a long way to numb her physical pain. Her eyelashes seemed to crackle every time she blinked.

After a while, she began to wonder if it was really that cold, or if it was just her.

She was a little surprised when she found herself in front of the diner once more. Staring blankly at the door, she wondered how impossible it would be to eat something. Her insides felt empty, but not in the same way as hunger.

"What are you doing out here?"

She jumped when Caleb came up behind her. Slowly, she turned and looked up to find him watching her with suspicion. His hair was mussed, the shadows under his eyes pronounced in the morning light.

Her words colorless, she rasped, "Just went for a walk. Didn't plan on going any farther than the town limits." Caleb studied her for a long moment and she stared back blankly. Then she said, "I thought you were sleeping?"

He just shrugged. "Woke up. When I didn't see you inside, I got...why don't we call it concerned."

"Why don't we tell the truth and say you thought I'd bailed on you."

Caleb pursed his lips, nodding. "Okay. I didn't trust that you weren't bailing on me."

Galloway nodded, her fingertips starting to ache with the chill. Running a hand through his hair to try and tame it, Caleb said, "I'm hungry. I'm also assuming you didn't eat."

"Maybe being hungry is what woke you up," she offered dryly.

He grinned, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he turned toward the diner. "It's been known to happen." He sobered. "After we eat though, I really do need to find a place to crash for a couple hours."

"Why don't you just sleep while I drive?" Galloway said, ducking a little under his arm as he held the door for her.

She slid back into the booth she'd first used and ignored the stink eye she got from the waitress. The woman slapped a menu down in front of her before handing Caleb his with a "Take your time, honey."

Caleb gave the waitress a nice smile, then turned a scowl on Galloway. 

"You said you were coming with me," she reminded him. "I intend to go back home."

"Home?" he said skeptically.

"Current place of residence," she amended, playing with the peeling edge of the plastic menu.

"Yeah, about that," Caleb started, just to be cut off by a phone ringing.

His scowl returned as he took his phone out of his jacket and he rolled his eyes at the caller ID. He tapped the screen and answered, "Rick."

Galloway didn't bother to listen, instead watching as Caleb somehow managed to order, wink at the waitress who batted playfully at his shoulder and hold a coherent conversation with whoever Rick was. 

Whatever the person on the other end of the phone was saying, Caleb didn't seem too pleased about it. He glared ferociously at the black and white checkered floor, the fingers of his free hand beating out a steady pattern on the Formica tabletop.

The waitress brought back their food and he tugged his plate closer, using his shoulder to hold the phone to his ear as he sprinkled Tabasco sauce over the hash-browns he'd ordered.

"You don't say," Caleb finally said. "Yeah. I'm in the area. I was actually going to try and meet you on your way down."

There was a pause as he listened, then his eyes flicked to Galloway, who picked unenthusiastically at the pancakes she'd ordered. She raised an eyebrow and Caleb said, "I might have a lead on that."

Then his eyebrows furrowed and he snapped, "Well geez, Rick. Don't get too excited. Try to contain yourself a little."

Galloway finally put a small piece of syrup-drowned pancake in her mouth.

Caleb heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll let you know. Okay. Don't get yourself killed."

He took the phone away from his ear and Galloway made out something that sounded insulting, followed by a laugh. Then Caleb hit end and put the phone back in his pocket. She tore her bacon into little pieces, eating some every now and then, waiting.

But Caleb seemed content to eat in uncomfortable silence. Prodding carefully at a long scratch on her jaw, she said, "So?"

"So what?" he said around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

She closed her eyes, exhausted. "Plans have changed?"

"What do you know about wendigos?"

Her eyes opened and she blinked slowly at him. He raised his eyebrows at her, making a small gesture with his fork. Reluctantly, she asked, "What do wendigos have to do with Hell?"

"Nothing." He frowned. "At least, not directly."

"What does that mean?" She started hacking her pancake into little squares.

"You going to eat or just butcher that thing?"

Sullenly, she made a show of putting a square into her mouth and chewing. After she swallowed, she said, "Wendigos?"

Caleb nodded. "A friend of mine thinks one might be making liver pâté out of a couple locals just east of Devils Lake in North Dakota."

"Well why can't he take care of it?" she snapped. "I thought we had plans concerning Hell's."

"Because he's in Alaska," Caleb said amicably. He took a sip of coffee. "So what do you know about wendigos?"

"What do you know?"

He smiled. "We get to use a flamethrower."

"You have a flamethrower?" she asked, shaking her head a little.

"You'd be surprised what you can find on the black market these days." Caleb leaned back, then said, "If you had to guess, how many wendigos do you think are awake here in the US right this second?"

Galloway hesitated, caught off guard by the question. "Three—maybe four. They're not a very common monster."

"This is the sixth one we've seen in three months." He nodded grimly when her mouth dropped open. He clicked his tongue and said, "Monsters, man. I'm telling you, they're coming out of the damn woodwork lately. And not just the normal ones like werewolves or bloodsuckers. Things have gotten downright exotic over the past year and a half."

"Why?" Galloway demanded. She really hadn't been paying attention.

Caleb shook his head, shrugging once more. "Don't know. They started getting stirred up about the same time the demons did. Do you have any ideas? I mean," he laughed and leaned forward, "that's why you're here, right?"

"No. I'm here because you're too stupid to cut me loose," Galloway said, but there was no real venom there. She looked out the window. "It could just be a ripple effect. You know, the demons come out to play and the smaller game monsters are going to think that Hunters will be too busy dealing with them to pay attention to a smattering of exsanguinations in Pennsylvania."

Caleb smiled. "I always liked that word."

"Pennsylvania?" She frowned.

"Mm. Exsanguination." He tilted his head in consideration, then scratched at the side of his neck. "You really think it's that simple?" 

Her mouth slid to the side in a frown, her eyebrows furrowing. "Yeah. I mean, maybe. I just don't think monsters have anything to do with what the demons are planning. I just think they're taking advantage of the confusion."

"So you do know what they're planning?" Caleb asked, his gaze intense.

"I have a pretty good guess."

"Care to share with the class?" His voice was wry.

The waitress came back with their check and Caleb paid, leaving a generous tip. Galloway stood and said, "Why don't we talk about this someplace a little more private."

Caleb nodded and she followed him outside. She opened the driver's side door just for him to slam it shut and slide between her and the truck. She looked up at him, then took a rapid step back when she realized how close he was.

Voice a little shaky, she said, "I thought I was driving?"

"Yeah, no." Caleb gave her a tight-lipped smile, lifting one shoulder.

"Why?"

"Look, things are complicated, right? I mean, you've obviously got some problems with the thousand yard stare you got going on, and I don't want to wake up as a Hellhound's chew toy. So, for now, I'm calling the shots. If you don't like it, find a way to deal with it. Get over it or grow over it." Caleb's smile dropped and he leaned back against the truck, crossing his arms.

A muscle feathered in her jaw as she clenched her teeth. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm in a He..." She paused and shuddered a little. "Hellhound free state at the moment. And you brought me, remember?"

"Uh-huh," he said, nonchalant. "Don't care. And hey, I'm not saying you have to trust me, either. But since I'm the only one who doesn't work for Hell, I think that grants me certain privileges. Like decision making." 

She turned her head sharply and said, "Well then you better get to it. I don't know how long I'm going to be able to stay."

"What does that mean?"

"It means right now I'm on a little vacation. But that can change at literally any second. Like whenever Theron decides to move his ass and stick me with another Hound. Most likely one who actually follows the rules, so you got a limited window, cowboy. What do you want from me?" Galloway hunched her shoulders, watching as the wind flipped that obstinate chunk of hair into Caleb's face.

"Rules?" Caleb asked, zeroing in on the one thing she hadn't meant to say.

With a sigh, she said, "It doesn't matter," before she walked around to the passenger door, waiting for him to get in and unlock it.

When they were both in the cab, she said, "Heading home is actually something that will answer more questions than you have. Unless he's left, I've got someone who can fill you in on all the crap I don't know about what they're doing downstairs."

Caleb sat quietly in the driver's side for a moment, staring out the windshield. Then, finally he said, "Okay. Fine. But first, I sleep and then we go roast us a wendigo."

Galloway rolled her eyes and leaned against the window, rubbing at her temple. She dug her phone out of her pocket and dialed Logan's home number. It rang three times before it was answered.

"Galloway."

She groaned internally. Briefly she wondered how her life had suddenly become so overpopulated with pain in the ass men. Closing her eyes, she said, "Rhys, good, you're still there."

"Well that sounds promising."

"Don't go getting excited," she said dryly, ignoring the weird look Caleb gave her. "Will you still be at Logan's in about..." She trailed off, looking at the Hunter expectantly.

"Uh... It'll take us two days to get to Devils Lake, then probably another two to hunt it."

She sighed. "Then another three to get back to my place. Will you still be at Logan's about seven days from now?"

"Who's that with you?" Rhys asked, ignoring her question.

Exasperation was beginning to grate on her nerves. "Why do you care?"

"Maybe I'm jealous," he offered, and she could imagine his smirk.

"Rhys, just...shut up for like three seconds. Do you think you can manage that?"

"Where's the Hound?" he immediately asked, ignoring her request.

Her temper exploded. "Fucking Hell! Now I'm sitting in the cab of a truck with a crazy Hunter who I rescued from a wraith back in '95 and we're going to go kill a wendigo eating people in North Dakota. He wants to know about the Hell gate bullshit and since you're such a damn expert, I was going to bring him to you so you could explain."

"Galloway—," he tried.

"No!" she shouted, making Caleb flinch beside her. "You know what? You got what you wanted. You and Logan, both. Sirius is in Hell getting the meat peeled off his bones and I'm still here and I don't know why. I'm not asking now. When we're an hour away from my place, I'm going to call you and you're going to get your witchy ass over to my place ricky fucking tick and explain whatever I leave out."

Her breath came rapidly as she finished yelling. Silence reigned, both in the truck and on the phone line. She jumped when Caleb got out of the truck, closing the door behind him. She hadn't realized they'd stopped.

He disappeared into what looked like the front desk of the motel she was staring at.

"Are you done screaming at me?" Rhys asked stiffly.

"I don't know. Are you going to continue to be such a dick?" Galloway snapped.

He sighed and she said, "I am not okay right now, Rhys. I'm just not. And I don't need you to preach at me or ask me questions or... Look, I get it. This whole situation really works for you. But you're not the one having to deal with the fallout, or the fact that they're going to put me with another Hound who won't care about me in the slightest."

"You still think he cares about you?" Rhys interjected, disbelief coloring his words.

Her mouth pressed into a painful line and a muscle jumped in her throat. Her eyelashes fluttered as her eyes burned and she rasped, "Don't talk about him. Don't ask about him. Pretend like you never even knew he existed. I don't want to hear anything about him coming from you, Rhys. You're going to meet us in about seven days and you're going to tell Caleb anything I can't. And that's the end of it."

"Galloway, I—"

She hung up, cutting off his words. Then she dialed Logan's cell number. He answered immediately. "Galloway."

Her name was breathed out with such pure relief that she instantly teared up. 

Logan asked, "Babydoll, what happened?"

Of course he knew something was wrong. Logan always did. Crying again, coming completely undone by the pure love and concern in her best friend's voice, she said, "They took Sirius back to Hell. Theron said he was punishing us for something. He said that he didn't know if Sirius would come back and he said that he was giving me a different Hellhound."

Silence on the line.

She looked up, trying to stop her tears. Her voice cracking, she asked, "Logan?"

"I'm here. I'm sorry, Galloway. I'm so sorry."

"You wanted him gone," she said, accusation trickling into the words.

"No," he said heavily. "No. I wanted you safe. It's different. What are you doing now?"

She tried to force out a laugh, sniffing a little as she wiped at her eyes. "Uh, well that's a whole other flavor of crazy. I'll fill you in when I get back home, okay? I just... I need a little time. I, uh, I also need a favor."

"Anything," Logan said quickly.

"I need you to make sure Rhys is at my place in about seven days. He can tell you why." She looked up when she heard a whistle and found Caleb gesturing impatiently to her. With another sigh, she said, "I gotta go, Logan. But I'll see you soon."

"I really am sorry, Galloway."

"Yeah," she said softly, before hanging up the phone. "Me too."

Stiffly, she got out of the truck, feeling old for the first time in her very long life. Her joints ached and creaked, and her breath rasped in her lungs. She made her way slowly over to Caleb, who led her to a room. When he opened the door, she frowned and said, "You couldn't get me my own room?"

"I need to be able to keep an eye on you," he explained, at least having the grace to look a little contrite.

Too worn out to argue, she just nodded and walked into the room. He followed her and stood in front of her, looking awkward. She sat on the bed and tilted her head at him. There was a gentle rattling sound as he pulled a pair of silvery handcuffs out of his coat pocket.

Now she raised an eyebrow. "Did not peg you for that kind of guy, Caleb. Personally I'm really not into the whole bondage thing."

"Shut up," he muttered. "What else is there to make sure you don't decide to actually bail on me?"

"You gotta start trusting me a little at some point, kiddo. You can't watch me twenty-four-seven. And do you really think handcuffs would stop me if I wanted to go?" When he didn't respond, she said, "Caleb, there is no way in Hell, Heaven or Earth that you're putting those things on me. Now, I'm not going anywhere. Either you trust that or... No, that's it. You trust that. Otherwise how are you supposed to know you can trust anything I tell you about Hell?"

After another moment of silence, he said, "What's the Hell gate?"

She inhaled, holding it for a moment before she let it blow out noisily. "First, drop the handcuffs."

He narrowed his eyes at her and she wondered what she was going to do if he actually tried to lock her up. She really didn't want to hurt him. Not to mention that she didn't want to sustain any more damage herself for at least a solid twenty-four hours. Then, slowly, with a great deal of reluctance, he set them on the TV stand.

She nodded. "Okay. So, the short version is there are gates keeping the demons in Hell. For the most part. With a bit of heavy lifting, the gates can be opened by the more powerful demons, and they can either come up themselves or they can send others through. Basically, it's pretty hard for a demon to get up here. The caveat to that, of course, is that any demon can come up without any effort on its part if it's summoned."

"I'm following," Caleb said when she stopped.

"The guy I talked to, Rhys, he's got some theories." Her expression soured at the mention of the he-witch, and she brushed her hair back in agitation.

Caleb finally took off his coat, then slid his gun under his pillow before flopping down. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and said, "What theories?"

"That the demons are working to perform an ancient ritual that will pop the gates wide open."

Caleb lowered his hands, peering owlishly at her over the side of the pillow. When she held his gaze, he rolled onto his back and stared at the smoke stained ceiling. "Wow. That's way worse than what we thought they were doing."

"What did you think they were doing?"

He shook his head. "Doesn't really matter, does it." He paused, thinking. "If they're waiting for the gates to get cracked open, why are there so many coming up now?"

"Rhys thinks they've been piecing the ritual together over the centuries. There are probably ingredients they need that they can't get down there, so they send people up. Milk-run style. But, you know, horrible and bloody." Galloway stood up and took off the hoodie he had given her.

"What are you doing?"

She looked down at the blood smeared over her skin and said, "Taking a shower. That okay with you?"

Caleb struggled with himself for a moment and she raised an eyebrow. Finally he scrubbed his hand over the back of his head, making his hair fluff up a little. He got up and went to a bag she hadn't noticed before.

Before she could ask, he threw her a t-shirt and said, "You can just wear that until I can get you something not covered in gore. Don't want to spook the locals."

She looked down at the t-shirt to find a Van Halen logo. "I...um, thanks."

"Yeah." Caleb lay back down, taking the time to pull his boots off. With a sigh, he said, "Don't make me regret this."

She opened her mouth to possibly say something sarcastic, then shut it. She didn't feel like seeing which line was just one too far.

After getting into the shower, she wondered if he was going to regret his decision to stay with her in one way or another.