"My secret side I keep hid under lock and key."

-Skillet

                                                                               ***

Sirius was a little surprised when Caleb pulled into a different motel than the one they had been at the other night, before they went demon hunting. It seemed like a waste of money to him, but since it wasn't his money, he didn't really care.

They got out of the vehicles, Rick going in to pay for a room as he was the least injured among them. Alex stood quietly next to Caleb, who put an arm around her shoulders. She curled into him gratefully, shivering even though it wasn't that cold, and Sirius had the odd urge to look away. 

He was saved from this by Rick coming back out. Those steel-colored eyes of his raked briefly over the other two Hunters, then he looked at Sirius. Mouth pressing into a thin line, he shook his head, the movement barely there. Sirius raised an eyebrow in careless acknowledgement and Rick tossed Caleb a room key.

"You and Alex are in 102."

"You're staying with him?" Caleb asked, giving Rick a look that was almost disbelieving.

"Well, I'm not leaving Alex alone with him after getting knocked around like she did," he paused as both Sirius and Alex scoffed, "and you two are bound to kill each other if you have to spend anymore quality time."

Caleb and Sirius glanced at each other, but neither of them argued with Rick. Scowling, Caleb grabbed his bag out of the back, waiting for Alex to do the same before they went to their room.

"You're letting your baby sister stay with him?" Sirius asked, just because he felt like playing devil's advocate.

"Alex's known Caleb since she was a kid." Rick shouldered a bag of his own. "And honestly? She could do a lot worse than him. Trust me."

That raised so many questions that probably wouldn't be a very good idea to voice out loud. So he just nodded, following the Hunter before his attention was caught by something in one of the other rooms.

Or, rather, someone.

"I'll be right back," Sirius said, watching the couple leave their room, get into a car and drive away.

"What are you—" Rick began, but Sirius was already at the door.

He hesitated for the barest of moments, then remembered what the darkness had told him out in the desert. Tentatively, he reached out to it. Responding almost immediately, the darkness wrapped around him and pulled him through the door, putting him on the other side unharmed.

It slithered away from him without any argument, and he took a moment to wonder how long this would last before he got around to what he'd come here to do. He dug through the suitcases still packed on the bed, swearing under his breath when all he found was t-shirts.

He liked dress-shirts better. They looked good on him and he knew it, but a simple, black t-shirt would serve for now. The jeans also looked like they'd fit him a lot better than what he was currently wearing, plus they had the advantage of not being stiff with dried blood.

He left the room to find Rick standing just outside with his arms crossed, a disapproving frown on his face.

"What?" Sirius asked, holding up the clothes. "Unless you'd just like me to stay all caked with blood? It doesn't really bother me, but if that's what you're into, that's a little weird, man."

Rick closed his eyes, like he was praying for patience, then just shook his head. "Fine," he said with a sigh. "Let's just get this over with."

He led Sirius up a set of stairs and over to their room, unlocking the door. Sirius started to sit on the end of one of the beds, his curiosity over what was so weird about this Hunter practically killing him.

"Uh-uh," Rick said, stopping him cold. "Get that stuff off you first. It smells like hell."

This provoked a dry grimace from Sirius, but all he did was shrug. He stood back up and went to the bathroom. Avoiding the mirror, he stripped out of the dirty clothes, taking a moment to look down at the puncture wounds in his upper abdomen. He brushed gentle fingers over the still bleeding holes.

I don't like you being hurt all the time, she said, her voice seeming to come from all around him.

"Hazard of the position," he murmured, echoing something she'd said to him a long time ago.

Eventually those nine lives of yours are going to run out.

"I'm not a cat." He turned on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up this time. 

Whatever. You know what I mean. Eventually you're going to tackle something you can't handle and end up dead. Then what'll happen to me?

"Well," he said, stepping into the shower, watching the ultra-red blood from the demon mix with his own black and run down the drain, "I haven't yet. So I just won't worry about it."

You're an idiot, she grumbled. I'm not joking, Sirius. You need to start being more careful.

"Funny," he muttered. "I never struck myself as the type for self-preservation."

Just because I'm in your head doesn't make my concern any less real.

That sent shivers down his spine. He shook his head, dark hair spraying water on the walls. "Stop."

He waited for a moment, then sighed in relief when she didn't say anything else. Moving quickly, he washed, scrubbing the blood away, not paying attention to the sting when soap got into the wounds in his stomach.

Quickly drying off and dressing, he went back out into the main room, wet hair dripping onto the shoulders of his new shirt. His expression turned dark when he didn't find Rick in the room, a small growl rattling in his throat. Stomping into his boots, he went outside but couldn't see the Hunter anywhere.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep a handle on his temper and practice a little patience. His claws extended, letting him know that neither of those things was really all that likely to happen. 

Scoffing, he wondered if Rick was just going to run. He wouldn't have pegged the Hunter as that kind of person, but he knew better than most what big secrets did to a person, and how terrifying the prospect of divulging said secret could be.

That didn't get the Hunter off the hook though.

Looking around, he found the room Caleb and Alex were supposed to be in right next to his own. He took a breath to settle himself as best he could, then hit the door gently with the side of his fist. There was shuffling from behind the door, then it was swinging open.

Sirius was looking up a little, expecting Caleb, so frowned when he found nothing. Alex clearing her throat made him look down to find her wrapped in a towel, hair dripping wet just like his was.

"Sorry," he said, looking away. "I was just wondering if your brother was in here?"

She shook her head, a movement he caught in the corner of his eye, but she didn't say anything to him. Her gaze burned into the side of his face. With a sharp nod, he said, "Okay. I just... I needed to talk to him."

"Well then I guess you can wait 'til he gets back." With that, she shut the door in his face. He didn't miss the angry gasp she probably thought he couldn't hear.

Not really sure what he was feeling, he walked slowly back into his own room, flopping down onto the bed nearest the door. This jarred his battered body, but he didn't mind the pain all that much. It served to cloud his mind, which he'd always appreciated. The collar of the shirt choked him a little, and he sat up, stripping it off.

His eyes were gritty and strained. He knew he was tired, but he didn't want to be.

But as the minutes stretched out, he decided that sleeping was better than just sitting and waiting. So he toed off his boots and rolled up in the blankets. The movement hurt, but it didn't matter.

Too soon that pain-induced fog faded, but he'd been drowsing anyway and sleep claimed him once the pain left. Part of him struggled against it, but the rest of him knew he needed to rest and heal regardless of what sleeping put him at the risk of.

He drifted into darkness, surrendering to the fact that he wouldn't sleep peacefully until she was there with him, held safely in his arms.

                                                                            ~~~

They drowned her. And burned her. And cut her into a thousand little bloody pieces.

And all he could do was stand there and watch helplessly while she screamed.

Sirius lurched upright with a gasp, cold sweat pouring into his eyes and down his torso. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest, his pupils so dilated that any light, no matter how dim, seared his eyes. Adrenaline spiking through his veins made his hands shake and his breath jittery. 

Dropping his head into his hands, he tried to stop his imagination from running amok, but it was an exercise in futility. He couldn't stop thinking about what they were probably doing to her. Horrific guesses kept running through his mind, aided and abetted by his own terrible memories of the pits.

He knew what they were doing like he was there watching it, unable to stop it. Like he was experiencing it with her, even though Theron had severed their mind link. Not that a telepathic link could bridge a dimensional gap anyway.

He knew how they were shattering her bones, one by one inside of her, then leaving her like that for what would feel like days and weeks on end. He knew what a curse it was to pass out from the pain, just to wake up and find yourself completely healed once more.

Reset for the next round of torture.

Shaking, he rubbed the stinging sweat from his eyes and tossed the covers off of him. Strangled by the close air of the room, he made his way to the door and eased it open, slipping into the cool air of early morning.

He leaned against the railing and stared blankly at the pale grey sky.

It was astonishing, really, how painful the guilt was. He marveled at how Galloway could have lived with this awful gnawing sensation for decades. It felt like some toothy parasite was eating its way slowly through his chest while he was still alive.

Sirius shivered, the cool air cold and unpleasant against his sweat slick skin. He still didn't understand how he was supposed to live like this.

"What are you doing out here, Fido?"

Rick's voice from behind him made him jump and whirl around. His fangs sliced into his lip, and a growl clawed its way up his throat. He managed to choke it back when he found the Hunter watching him with a raised eyebrow.

The Hunter's clothes were rumpled and there was what appeared to be fingernail marks on the side of his neck. He smelled like alcohol and, more strangely, like sand, blood, sun and pomegranates. With a smirk, he ran a hand through his hair. "Deciding to finally cut and run?"

It was said almost hopefully.

"Don't you just wish I would," Sirius responded, letting his fangs flash a little. There was something familiar about the smell coming from the Hunter. It certainly wasn't like any perfume a mortal woman would wear. "Sorry, Winters, you're not getting out of our little deal that easily."

Rick just narrowed his eyes, taking in Sirius' blown-out pupils and the sheen of sweat on his skin. Silence settled between them for a long time before he shook his head slowly.

He was drunker than Sirius had previously thought.

"What are you doing here?" Rick asked finally, voice cruel.

Sirius sighed wearily. He'd already answered this, but decided to humor him for a moment. "How do you mean? Here on this walkway at this crappy motel? Here in the universe?" He laughed, but the sound was strained. "Here with a bunch of Hunters who'd rather kill me than look at me?"

"Why are you always such a smartass?"

"Defense mechanism," he said listlessly. His nose wrinkled at the stench of beer coming from the Hunter, but he found it strange that he couldn't smell anything stronger. He wouldn't have guessed in a million years that Rick of all people would be a lightweight.

"Defense from what?" Rick crossed his arms and leaned against the railing Sirius had propped his elbows on.

"Hunters who'd rather kill me than look at me," Sirius repeated dryly.

Rick barked out a humorless laugh and shook his head. "No. I don't think so."

"Then I guess it's a good thing I don't care much what you think," he snapped, his foul mood finally rushing in to replace the fear he'd woken up with.

All this earned him was a dry look, the Hunter reaching into the pocket of his jacket. He withdrew a new pack of cigarettes from the one Sirius had seen in the desert. With an expert flick of his wrist, he made one cigarette stand above the others.

He snagged it with his teeth, then reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. A frown wrinkled his forehead when he couldn't seem to find what he was looking for.

Sirius was unable and disinclined to help.

Finally, Rick made a small sound of triumph, extracting a silvery lighter. He flicked it open and sparked it, the flame catching weirdly at Sirius' vision.

He lit the cigarette then flicked his eyes toward Sirius. With a wry grin, he said, "Don't tell Alex on me." Now he let out a laugh. "I ain't getting killed by lung cancer. That much I know."

Sirius snorted, startling when Rick tapped the pack against his shoulder. He tilted his head in consideration, and the Hunter raised an eyebrow. Smoke streamed from his nose as he exhaled, the cigarette dangling from his lips.

After another moment, he pulled a cigarette out and looked at it. He'd stopped smoking sometime around the early sixties or whenever they'd started putting more than just tobacco in them. There wasn't an awful lot of that time period that he actually remembered with any clarity, but he thought it was around then. He wasn't a fan of the taste. 

But his inhibitions were lower than they normally were.

Rick tipped his head back, letting a mouthful of smoke puff into the air. Sirius wasn't sure she'd like this.

He put the cigarette in his mouth and leaned over as Rick flicked the lighter again. He lit the cigarette and Sirius inhaled, smoke burning the back of his throat. This made him cough and the Hunter laughed, leaning on the bannister next to him.

A few more drags and his lungs quite protesting. He still didn't like the acrid taste, not like he used to. He looked at the ember for a second, letting the dull glow have all of his attention. They stood there for a long time, just smoking in silence.

Then, Sirius said, "I'm here because if I couldn't get her back, I'd be dead." He took another drag on the cigarette, trying to stop his hand from shaking. The smoke entering his lungs warmed him for a moment, but then he'd exhale and be cold again.

"She really worth all this?" Rick asked, keeping his voice quiet and non-confrontational. "She worth you chasing her all the way to Hell, consequences and everyone else be damned?"

Throwing the butt of the cigarette down into the parking lot, he took a long time to answer, but it still came out as a snarl. "I'm not chasing. That would imply she left on her own. She didn't. She was stolen, dragged to Hell. I'm retrieving what's mine."

"You didn't answer the question." Rick's voice was calm.

Sirius stared at him, but when he just blew out another mouthful of smoke, he nodded. "Yeah. She's worth it. If she does what the demons want, the world will drown in blood, demons fucking everywhere. Does that answer your damn question?"

In all honesty, that wasn't the true answer according to Sirius, but it was the answer required where pretty much everyone else was concerned. Briefly he wondered if he'd have to say this to Logan too.

He quickly shook the thought away, deciding not to worry over something that was going to suck no matter what he did.  

The Hunter stared out over the parking lot, seemingly at nothing. Like he was listening to something only he could hear, and a tingle crept up Sirius' spine. Rick stubbed out what was left of his cigarette on the railing, then lit a second one.

Again he offered the pack to Sirius, who took one. Again Rick lit it for him, but this time the flickering light illuminated something Sirius found interesting.

Puzzle pieces snapped together with a satisfying click in his mind.

With the cigarette still in his mouth, he grabbed Rick's hand and flipped the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal a hieroglyphic design. A disk-like sun above a lioness bathing in its rays was branded into the skin just below his wrist on the inside of his forearm.

Rick jerked back, yanking the sleeve down.

Sirius drew in a lungful of smoke and let it out slowly in a thin stream between his lips. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and leaned back against the railing. Rick still had his hand clamped around his left wrist, his body tense and ready for a fight.

Now everything wrong with the Hunter made sense, and Sirius couldn't decide if it was good or bad for him.

His eyes slid away from the Hellhound, and he rubbed at his wrist where the brand was. 

Sirius took the opportunity to lunge forward. He snatched the Hunter's knife out of his belt, moving slowly enough that he knew Rick could have stopped him. If he thought to.

He plunged the blade into Rick's chest, right into his heart.

Rick didn't even blink. With a grin, Sirius yanked the knife out, staring with interest at the bloodless wound.

He let out a small chuckle, shivering as an unnaturally hot wind seemed to blow between them. "My, my," he said, smiling at the Hunter, the expression sharp and nearly wicked.

Rick tore his knife out of Sirius' hand, placing it instead against his throat. He fisted his hand in the shoulder of Sirius' shirt, letting the edge of the knife bite into the delicate skin of his neck.

Sirius just continued to smile.

"What," Rick said very slowly, "the actual fuck?"

Grabbing the hand with the knife in it, he tore Rick's sleeve down again. The ambient light brought the stark, deep red lines of the brand into clear focus. Rick's gaze flicked down to the marking for a moment, his mouth opening in either confusion or explanation.

But Sirius beat him to it. Letting his hand drop, he shook his head in wonder.

"How long you been dead, Winters?"