"The truth is rarely pure and never simple."

- Oscar Wilde

                                                                              ***

Galloway woke up alone, very early morning light peeking around the curtains, casting the room in dull greys. The sheets tangled around her body as she sat up.

With a sigh, she rolled out of the bed and stretched, pleased when her hip barely complained. She unwrapped her hand to find the skin whole and unmarred, her knuckles no longer aching. Rolling her neck, she threw away the bandages and dressed at a leisurely pace, her mind blissfully empty and still for once.

Not bothering with her shoes, she left the bedroom and started down the stairs, her bare feet silent on the steps. She stifled a yawn, then stopped at the bottom of the stairs when she saw a light on in the kitchen. She padded slowly down the short hall, weighing the possibility of it being Rhys in the kitchen rather than Logan. She wasn't sure she wanted to see the telepath so soon.

Galloway could make out low voices and her steps faltered, hesitating in the hallway rather than going into the kitchen. She listened to what they were saying.

Mostly because they seemed to be discussing her.

"Honestly, Rhys? This is exactly why I didn't introduce you to her," Logan said wearily. "She's hurt enough. She always has been. You can see that and you used it to your advantage."

Rhys scoffed. "You really think that's what I'm doing? After everything I've done to stop this, after all I've been through, you really think that all I want to do is screw around with her?"

Logan's voice was icy and protective—a tone similar to what she imagined her brothers would have used if they had been able to watch her grow up. "Don't talk about her like that. And, kinda, yeah. That's almost exactly what I think."

There was a small silence, and Galloway could imagine the wry glare she was sure Rhys was giving his brother. 

"She is falling, Logan!" Rhys hissed, his vehemence making her heart pound in her throat. "Hard. For that goddamn Hellhound. And when she does, she'll fall a whole lot harder and take the whole damn world with her. There won't be a thing you can do after that point to save her. You won't be able to pull off another daring rescue. Not without dying yourself."

There was another silence. Then Logan said, "I wouldn't be so sure about that. I'm pretty resourceful."

"No," Rhys shot back. "I've always suspected what you promised to come and get me. And breaking that contract will get you dead."

"I brought you here to talk to her, Rhysland," Logan responded, clearly avoiding his brother's insinuations. "Not manipulate her."

"Who said anything about manipulating her?" Rhys snorted, and Galloway frowned.

"You sleeping with her wasn't what I had in mind when I asked you to come here. I asked you here because you know Hell and you know that what happened to you is happening to her."

"Maybe," Rhys said quietly, catching Galloway by surprise. "It might be the same thing. Or we could both be getting paranoid in our old age."

There was a reluctant huff of laughter from Logan. "What makes you think that what's happening here, isn't what's happening here?"

She leaned forward slightly, wondering the exact same thing. Rhys had seemed pretty damn sure yesterday.

There was a small thud, and she wondered if Rhys had pulled himself up onto the counter. Then, he said, "Nothing, really. Honestly...I'm really not sure what's happening here. She actually does trust the Hound. It colors her mind every time she thinks about him. I'm not sure even she realizes how much she trusts him. I don't think she lets herself realize it."

Galloway was sure Logan was wearing the indulgent, exasperated smile she was so familiar with when he said, "What's the color of trust?"

"Blue," Rhys answered promptly. "Deep blue, like a dusky ocean or..."

"Sapphires," Logan supplied grimly, and Galloway bit her lip, a little thrown by his observation.

Rhys sighed heavily and Logan said, "Look, I know we're riding blind here. I just... I have a bad feeling. I've had it since I saw him on my doorstep, when he came looking for her that first day. I just... I thought you should know, since this your thing. And since you know what they want and what it's like to—"

There was a thick silence, somehow colder than the silences before it after Logan cut himself off harshly.

Galloway shivered at the ice in Rhys' tone. "Say it, Logan."

"I didn't—"

"Just say it!" Rhys growled, his voice shaking with anger. "I know you want to. You've wanted to since it happened. So just spit it out!"

Galloway hovered by the half-closed door, knowing that this, at least, was not for her to hear. This was now a conversation between brothers. Brothers with history and blood between them.

Gently, Logan said, "You know what it's like to love something from Hell. That demon...she used you, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop her. All I could do was pick up the pieces and try to put you together again after the fact. And I'll be damned if I just sit by and let the same thing happen to her." Lowering his voice even more, he confessed, "I'm not sure she has enough pieces left to weather something like this."

Galloway's stomach clenched and she took half a step backwards, but couldn't pull herself away now. She was still very calm, which surprised her a little, and decided that she'd deal with how she felt about this later.

There was another pregnant pause, broken eventually by a deep sigh. She bit her lip harder when Rhys said, "After they tried to use me—after it didn't work—I knew they'd try again. I just didn't expect someone like her. And being completely honest, I'm sure Hell wants to use her, I just don't know if Sirius has anything to do with it."

"How could he not?" Logan muttered, then sighed, and Galloway could practically see how his chest would cave in. "Honestly? I don't know if he's using her either. I just know how he makes me feel, and it isn't butterflies and rainbows. There's a lot of darkness wrapped up in that pretty packaging of his."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you she doesn't plan on falling for him?" Rhys asked, though his voice held a trace of resignation.

Logan barked a humorless laugh. "No. Not at all. Because you and I both know what intentions are worth."

Nothing, Galloway mouthed, silently answering him. A sick feeling swept through her and she leaned carefully against the wall.

Another sigh came from Logan, and he said, "She's special, Rhys. She has suffered so much. More than anyone I've ever known and now, with all of this and the Hound... I just, look, I don't love your methods. But I do trust you. I trust that all you want to do is stop Hell, which translates—distantly—to protecting her. I don't care how you do it, but you need to make sure that it works. That the ends are worth the means, understand?"

A short silence led Galloway to believe that Rhys had nodded when Logan said, "Kill him, sleep with her, whatever. Though I would much prefer the first one. All I require is that you don't do anything, anything at all, that hurts her. Like we've said, he might not be using her. But Hell is and until I figure out a more permanent solution to remove her from this situation, getting rid of temptation seems like a pretty solid first step."

Galloway's teeth ground together, her fists clenching. She desperately wanted to turn around, sprint out the front door and hit the gas on her Chevelle until the needle inched past the red. She wanted to run back to Sirius. 

But something held her firmly in place.

Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, coming her direction, and Galloway retreated into the pitch-dark living room. Pressing herself against the wall, she held her breath until Logan had disappeared up the stairs and she heard another door shut.

She was surprised by the pain ricocheting through her chest. Especially concerning what Logan had said about Sirius, regardless of the fact that she'd had the very same thoughts. Somehow, it felt different coming from the two witches.

She jumped when Rhys said, "I know you're there."

Slowly, Galloway made her way into the kitchen, glaring at him. The buttery light glinted off the silver strands of his hair. Rhys gave her a small, sad smile and said, "I wish you hadn't heard that. Obviously we have all just taken one giant step backwards trying to get you away from him."

"So why didn't you stop the conversation?" she demanded, folding her arms.

Rhys shrugged from where he was indeed sitting on the counter. "I said I wish you hadn't heard it, not that you shouldn't have. Logan would have never said those things in front of you. He cares about you too much. Doesn't mean you didn't need to hear them." He smiled, the expression self-deprecating. "Even if it drives you right back into his arms."

Galloway tossed her head scornfully. "I get that you have some experience here, Rhys, but seriously? Of the two of us, I'd have to say I probably have a better line on what Hell's all about, yeah?" Rhys just raised an eyebrow. Her irritation rising, she said, "You can't be driven back to a place you've never been."

Now Rhys laughed, the sound nothing more than a breath huffed out through his nose. He shook his head, the silver strands of his hair winking at her. "I'm not sure I believe that." 

The knowing smirk on his face made her narrow her eyes, wondering just what he had seen in her thoughts concerning Sirius.

Shaking her head, she made her voice icy. "I don't mind what you and I are doing," she paused, considering, "at least, I didn't. And maybe Sirius is all you say he is. But he's never given me a reason to think that he wants to hurt me. Or that he wants to let Hell loose on earth. And until he does, I actually do trust him."

"I can see that," Rhys murmured, his eyes drilling into hers.

She returned his glare. "I trust him more than I trust you at any rate. Because he's earned that much at the very least. If I see you anywhere near him..."

"You'll kill me?" Rhys asked with a mocking grin.

"Maybe," she replied coolly, extracting her keys from her pocket. She jingled the keys, then looked at the ceiling.

"He'll be worried," Rhys said, trying to guilt her.

"He's always worried," she responded, then looked back down at him. Her voice soft, but no less threatening, she said, "I'll work with you, Rhys. Because I think you might be right about what Hell wants, and I'm a Hunter. It's my job to stop something like this. I think you can help me, because of what you know and what you can do. But Sirius is off limits to anyone but me, do we understand one another?"

He drew his fingers over his chest in an X-shape. "Cross my heart." A small smile played around his mouth. "And the other half of our arrangement?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Currently postponed until I can figure out if you're actually doing this in my best interest, or if it's just in yours."

His eyes shimmered as he tilted his head. "See you around."

Galloway frowned at him before letting herself out, grabbing her bag and putting on her boots. She hurried across the dark, chilly yard, giving the hood of the Chevelle a fond pat before she got in. For a moment, she just sat in the cold interior, her forehead leaned against the steering wheel as she tried to sort through everything.

She knew that she believed Rhys. There had been nothing but truth in his eyes when he'd told her that story, and scars rarely lied. Logan's words had cut her deeply, but she also knew there was truth in them as well.

The only hold-out on the truth was Sirius, and she didn't even know how to begin untangling that web.

When she started shivering, Galloway cranked the engine before pulling out. Smiling at the throaty purr, she said, "This sucks." Then, with a sigh that was drown out by the roar around her, she said, "I hate my life."

She was seriously doubting her actions and dreaded facing Sirius once again. Even more so, considering the new knowledge weighing her down now.

But as she drove, a dull cold that had nothing to do with the early hour seeped through her, and she wondered if this was what Rhys had meant about coating her Soul in ice. With another sigh and an eye roll, she wished it was really that easy, and that she could do the same with her unruly heart.

                                                                              ~~~

Galloway parked the car before killing the engine, and stared apprehensively up at the lights shining down from her apartment windows. With a frown, she looked around the car and wondered if it would be ridiculous to just sleep here.

She'd done it before and knew that the bench seat in the back wasn't actually all that uncomfortable. With a sigh, she realized that this course of action was childish. Galloway opened the door, the hinges creaking in a familiar shriek.

She shut the door, the engine ticking as it cooled and trailed her fingers down the length of the warm hood, beyond reluctant to go inside.

So, she did the reasonable thing and decided to give the car another once-over. She popped the hood, the building's exterior lights enough to see by as she checked the oil, then examined the fan belt, though she knew it was an exercise in futility.

Milo, her dragon mechanic, kept her cars in perfect condition.

After she ran out of things concerning the engine, she went to the trunk, even though she'd already been through it. Still, she smiled at the weapons and tools that glinted up at her, ready and waiting. She was glad she'd long ago decided to equip each of her cars with a Hunter's tool kit.

But going through the trunk didn't take nearly long enough either.

Finally, she slammed the trunk in defeat, then winced and muttered an apology as she locked it. She glanced at the still-bright windows, mild irritation sweeping through her.

She took a small moment to appreciate that, regardless of how much he annoyed her, Rhys seemed to have helped her Soul settle. Her emotions didn't seem heightened beyond what she could handle for the moment.

Besides, there was no reason for her to be nervous. She could do what she wanted with whoever she wanted to do it with. Sirius certainly did.

With a snort, she stalked toward the building, then cursed when she got to the front door, remembering the Chevelle's keyring didn't have keys to her apartment. With another muttered curse, she drove her thumb into the buzzer and waited.

Sounding disoriented and angry, Sirius snapped, "Whoever you are, you've got the wrong place."

Galloway rolled her eyes and, pressing the speaker button, said, "Let me in, Sirius."

There was a long pause, then: "What happened to your keys?"

"Does it matter?" she snapped back, already exasperated. And she hadn't even actually seen him yet. "Just buzz me in!"

She sighed when the lock clicked and pulled open the door before jogging up the stairs to find the door to her apartment cracked open. Galloway slipped inside to find Sirius already pouring himself a drink. His eyes flicked up and he opened his mouth, then stopped and wrinkled his nose.

Downing his drink, he said, "I didn't realize Logan was a witch with benefits."

"What?" Galloway said, her eyebrows pulling together as she threw her keys onto the small table by the door.

He poured again, giving her a dry look. She frowned as something flashed in her memory when she met his gaze. Something from that night in New Mexico that she couldn't quite grasp.

Sirius sneezed, then glared at her. "You smell like a damn spice rack."

He stiffened as she drew nearer in an attempt to pull up the indistinct memory that was nagging at her now. Then, he raised an eyebrow. "My mistake. Not quite Logan."

Galloway didn't answer, her eyes going blank as the memory finally snapped into place with clarity. Sirius waved a hand in front of her face and she refocused to find him glaring down at her. There was something freezing cold and distant in his eyes, turning the blue glacial.

Behind the ice, something burned. "Probably makes sense that you have a taste for supernatural. Do you limit yourself to just witches or do you prefer to keep your options open?" His eyes narrowed his sneer turning to a bitter smile. "I mean, I know one thing at least that's off the menu."

Her breath huffed out as she shook her head. "Sirius, just shut up for a second." 

She was trying to fit this new memory into the scrambled puzzle of information in her mind. His attitude was not helpful at all.

Sirius just gave her a bored expression. He smirked and said, "I wonder what your sister would think about you screwing some witch. Or your parents for that matter. What would they think of their little Hunter girl getting up close and personal with creatures they used to just put in the ground?"

Galloway stared, unable to believe that he'd just said something like that. Anger welled up, hot and poisonous. She knocked the glass from his hand, scotch and broken glass spilling across the floor before she shoved him back into the wall, the knife she kept tucked in her belt winding up pressed against his throat.

He just blinked slowly at her, and Galloway lowered the blade. She stepped back and he watched her with an expectant expression. Her hand flashed out, palm cracking hard into his cheek. Sirius closed his eyes briefly before turning his head back to her as he slumped against the wall, running a hand through his hair.

They stood there for a long time as she tried to stop her hands from shaking. Voice low, she said, "You don't get to say something like that, Sirius. Ever."

He exhaled slowly, giving her one sharp nod before turning his face away from her, eyeing the spilled scotch. Still trembling, she said, "We need to talk."

Sirius shook his head and slipped past her. Picking up the pieces of glass, he rose with them cradled in his palm and said, "I was never one for sharing conquest stories."

Galloway clenched her jaw and looked away from him, trying not to get drawn into a stupid exchange of sharpened words. In her silence, there was a small crunch, and she turned her head to find black blood dripping steadily from his hand where he'd clenched it around the broken glass.

He sighed and threw the blackened shards into the trash before pressing a hand-towel into the cut palm.

"You didn't know Theron was coming?" she asked, making his gaze flick curiously to hers.

He held her gaze for a long moment before he said, "He contacted me. Asked where you were. It was just after you'd beat the hell out of that guy. I told him you were around. When he didn't immediately show, I wasn't sure that he would bother us. But I wasn't one hundred percent sure he wouldn't surprise us later. Turns out I was right."

Ignoring the clipped, angry cadence of his words, Galloway asked, "Why did you stop me?"

Sirius gave her a blank stare before blinking at her slowly. "Stop you from what, exactly?"

Galloway strode over to the couch and flopped down, waiting until he joined her. She curled up into a ball in the corner and said, "In Las Cruces. If you didn't think Theron was going to show, why did you stop me from..."

"I already told you why."

"Why?" she pressed. She needed an exact answer.

Sirius' mouth pressed into an angry slash before he growled, "Because I don't fancy spending another seven hundred years in Hell!"

She shut her eyes, inhaling deeply. She opened her mouth, but Sirius cut her off and said, "I didn't know Theron was going to come, but I had a feeling. That's the only answer I have for you."

Galloway just nodded, actually satisfied by that part of his story. She took another deep breath, eyes still closed and decided to switch gears. Maybe she would be able to startle a proper answer from him, though she deemed it unlikely.

Still, she had to try.

"Why did you bother to tell me about the Hell-gate legend?"

Her eyes opened at his shocked intake of breath to find him staring at her with slightly widened eyes. Something flickered in those cerulean depths before he shuttered his expression and a chill crawled down her spine as Rhys' story about what had happened to him in Hell echoed in her head. 

Sirius rubbed a hand over his mouth before slowly saying, "I told you because..." He shut his eyes now. "Because I don't know."

She hissed, "Stop lying! You told me Hell wants to use me because I'm still at least a little bit good."

"I said you could be used for the spell," he pointed out. She glared at him over the semantics and his teeth clenched, jaw working furiously before he ground out, "I said it because Theron takes way too much interest in you. I've never seen a handler keep such close tabs on a Collector before."

Galloway opened her mouth to snap something back, then frowned at the answer. "So that makes you think he wants to use me. For the spell?"

He shook his head a little helplessly. "I don't know, Galloway. I just don't, okay? But the more I think about it—the more I see—the more it feels like the truth."

A pervasive silence filled the air. Her mind worked furiously as she tried to fit what Sirius had told her in with what Rhys had. It was like trying to hold the same pole of two magnets together, and she wasn't sure enough about what was real.

Sitting to where she was facing him fully with legs crossed under her, she asked, "Why should I believe you?"

Sirius barked out a laugh, a bitter smile crossing his lips, but he didn't offer an answer. She sat back, gnawing on her lip. Sirius' gaze never wavered, just bored into her as her memories swarmed. Desperately, she tried to get them sorted out.

Finally, her mind stumbled upon something that seemed important. Muttering, she said, "You think you can make me bad."

Now Sirius blinked. "Come again?"

Her voice low, but no less fierce, she said, "Before we got the call to Albuquerque, that's what you told me. You said—"

He held up a hand, cutting her off. "I know what I said," he snarled, though the sound was flat. "But that doesn't explain why you don't believe me about the other stuff."

His eyes narrowed when her breath started to come in little pants as she fit this memory in with Rhys' revelations about how the spell needed someone to turn to Hell willingly. She had forgotten that until just now. And it made her lean a little closer to believing Rhys.

"Because you lie to me."

Sirius jerked back, pupils dilating with his shock. Trying for flippant, he asked, "What was I lying about this time, then?"

"Being bad wouldn't save me. It's the opposite, actually." She glared at his sharp laugh and said, "I learned something rather interesting over the days I spent with Logan."

Realization had dawned in his eyes, brightening their color, but she didn't give him the chance to speak. 

"Did you know that spell's been attempted once before?" she demanded.

His gaze darkened again. "They've been trying it for millennia, Galloway." At her startled look, he continued, "Caged things don't like to be caged. And I'm speaking from personal experience remember, sweetheart?"

Her ire was again lost in her confusion as the bits and pieces of the mystery she'd been fed swirled maddeningly. Rubbing hard at her eyes, she held up a hand, asking Sirius to give her a moment. He obliged, remaining silent until she looked up at him with the barest hint of suspicion tinging her thoughts.

Randomly, she wondered what color Rhys would say suspicion is.

"Why did you tell me that turning bad," she narrowed her eyes as she asked, "would keep them from being able to use me for the spell?"

"Because that's the version I've heard the most," he responded tiredly. Catching her uncertain expression, he grimaced. "Look. That spell has been around almost as long as Hell has. It's been lost and recovered and stolen, then stolen again. People have tried to destroy it countless times. The stories surrounding it, they vary. They change and shift with every retelling, just like any other legend."

Galloway blinked rapidly as that sunk in and actually made sense. She looked over when he snorted. 

Giving her a tentative, dry look, he said, "Either way, I didn't expect you to take me so seriously." He frowned slightly, as he always did unless he was purposefully making a joke, then said, "It was just that I could see that you were freaking out about what I had said about Hell killing your family to use you for the spell. I just wanted you to... I don't know, repress or ignore or whatever it is you Hunters do with unfortunate emotions."

"So making a weird pass at me was your answer?" she asked exasperatedly, even though she could see his reasoning. The ice in her chest softened slightly as she understood how he would think that giving her a way out of the story about the Hell-gate spell would help her.

It's just that his understanding of the spell happened to be incomplete. Being bad wasn't an out.

Sirius looked at her, his expression abashed when he said, "Kinda. I just... I didn't expect the rest of that night to go the way it did. I thought you'd just shut me down like you normally do, be able to brush off the Hell-gate legend and we'd move on."

This new information nudged hesitantly at the still whirling storm in her head, calming it. She sighed, closing her eyes in sheer relief at the sudden serenity. Not all of her questions had been answered and she didn't know if she could really trust the feeling, but something in Sirius' words had struck a chord with her.

She remembered how she'd told Rhys that she trusted Sirius. She took another moment to think about that sentiment, wondering if she was just being irredeemably foolish as the truth of it rolled over her. Idly, she wondered when she had started doing that.

Her eyes opened when Sirius chuckled, the sound a bit strained. "I didn't think that what I'd said would end up being so..."

"Relevant to the insanity that came right after you said it?" Galloway filled in. He gave her a half-smile. Galloway sighed, leaning back against the arm of the couch. "Logan has a brother and Hell tried to use him for that spell."

"So he's the one I still smell?" he asked lightly.

She bit her lip before nodding and he shrugged. She said, "He and I had a rather...intense debate about whether or not you're trying to use me for the spell."

His laugh was bitter again. "And why would he think that?"

"Rhys is a telepath," she explained with a hint of irritation. "He knew practically everything about me. Including all of your little games."

"Yes, well," Sirius huffed. "That's exactly what it all is, isn't it? One big game."

She was momentarily stunned by the hurt that fluttered in her chest at his words before she gave him a dry look.

"He didn't know that. And he had a rather," she sighed, "convincing story detailing why your games might all be a long game to get me to embrace Hell fully." Sirius laughed at the almost mocking tone she couldn't help but use with those words. She smiled wanly and continued, "So that I can be used to open the gates."

"Our games," he rejoined quietly. At her raised eyebrow, he said, "You play as much as I do, sweetheart."

She opened her mouth to deny this, then frowned, wondering if she really could. He snorted and said, "Well, this Rhys person sounds delightful. He's just missing one tiny, albeit important, detail."

"What would that be?"

His eyes glimmered when he said, "If I wanted to use you, it certainly wouldn't be to benefit anyone other than myself. I'm wonderfully selfish in that way."

"That's not exactly comforting, Sirius," she murmured, stringently ignoring the warmth that fluttered through her, banishing the last of the ice.

"Then how's this for comforting?" He cocked his head at her. "I hate demons. Probably more than anyone, including you. I like to think it's a deliciously spiteful side effect from them, you know, torturing me for seven hundred years. Why would I want to do anything to get them out of Hell? Why would I do anything to change the fact that I get to walk around up here, free, more or less, while they're trapped in that rancid hole?"

She laughed. "Rhys actually argued that that would be a reason for you to let them out."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "How does that make any sense?"

"He said that maybe you'd trade me for your freedom, then use that freedom to go on a demon hunt across the world."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I can't trade for my freedom. I won't even be free when I'm dead. Hell doesn't make Deals with its own citizens, it just uses them." He shook his head. "No thanks. I like them just where they are, festering in their own hatred, with jealous looks shot at me every time I visit home. I like knowing that for once, they're the ones in chains. No matter how much power they might have down there, I like knowing that they're still stuck, and I'm not. And I want them to stay down there, knowing that I'm up here and they aren't."

The vengeful cruelty in his tone was the final straw and the illusion that he wanted to use her for the Hell-gate spell shattered.

Her breath caught slightly as she realized the implications of her trust, and she sighed, "What do we do now?"

Sirius just shrugged. "Try like hell to stay topside?"