"It's not the existence of vice, or the indulgence in it, that requires explanation. Vice is easy."

- Dr. Jordan Peterson

                                                                           ***

Sirius threw himself down onto one of the sofas around the room, looking around. Briefly he wondered what had happened to the party-goers. There weren't any bodies or blood.

Maybe Valentia had cleared them out after she'd trapped him.

Rick sat down across from him on another glass table with traces of glittering powder on its edges, running a hand through his hair.

The smile crept up on Sirius before he could stop it and he leaned forward, blood pattering down to the floor between their feet. Rick looked at his flayed chest with concern, a distressed line appearing between his eyebrows.

"Why don't you—"

"I saw her," Sirius interrupted, sounding nearly giddy.

"What?" Rick asked blankly.

"I saw her. She's, well, she's fighting." He sighed, his grin turning dopey as he slumped backwards. "She kissed me."

"What the fuck did they dose you with, man?" Rick swiped a finger along the table next to him, then peered at the offending powder.

Sirius laughed when he stuck the finger in his mouth, tasting the powder, but then the Hunter spat to the side. "Oh," he muttered, wiping his hand on his pant leg. "That's what they dosed you with."

"Didn't dose me," Sirius said suddenly.

"What?"

"I took it. My decision. Didn't you hear me?" Sirius leaned forward and snatched at the Hunter's collar, pulling him forward until they were nearly nose to nose.

Rick wrapped his hand around Sirius' and tried to yank it away, but his hand skidded over the skinned, slippery bones. His mouth twisted in disgust as he tried to look at the damage there.

"I got to see her," he repeated. "She kissed me."

"I'm sure you got to see her. That stuff probably coulda sent you to the moon if that's what you wanted," Rick said irritably. He finally managed to peel Sirius' fingers away from his collar and leaned back a little. "Don't move."

The drugs still running through his system made him more amiable than he would otherwise be and he nodded, but Rick was already out the door. Sirius closed his eyes, picturing this fresh image of her face.

The fire and hatred that had burned in her eyes when she'd asked him to kill Theron were better than any chemical painkiller. He started laughing, the sound breathy and strange.

She doesn't care.

Then he suddenly sobered, wondering what they'd been doing to her to make her say that to him.

He leaned forward, pressing his bloody palms into his eyes.

Wide grey eyes looked at him in the darkness behind his eyelids and his breath caught as he let the images in his head play out.

She was still wearing that silk dress Persephone had put her in, her subtle curves and soft skin peeking out from the strips of fabric to tease him. They stood feet away from each other, surrounded by darkness.

Strands of the stuff curled around her arms and legs, making her look down. A nonexistent breeze played with her hair, blowing it in her face.

Nervous need trilled through him and he reached forward. Galloway stretched her hand out, unperturbed by the ribbons of darkness circling her slim arms. But before he could touch her, a tide of black washed between them, sweeping her away from him.

His eyes snapped open and he tried to hurl himself off the couch, but a hand on his shoulder was pinning him down. A snarl ripped itself from his chest, but then his eyes focused and all he found was Rick gazing down at him.

Sirius fell silent, staring at the Hunter. He'd never noticed before, but his eyes were just a shade off from Galloway's. Just a little darker, more likely to fall towards gunmetal than silver depending on the light.

But right now, in the lowered lighting of Valentia's place, his eyes were the same exact shade as Galloway's had been in the dream. He didn't fight when Rick sat and took one of his hands, cleaning and binding it. 

He didn't want to fight.

Rick started to wind bandages around his ruined hands, eyes flicking up randomly to take in Sirius' vacant face. 

"Where... is Valentia?" Sirius asked slowly, having a difficult time stringing thoughts together.

"She's..." Rick's eyes moved to a far corner of the room. "She tried to attack Alex with that goddamn knife."

Sirius had to turn, twisting away from Rick to find that there was a single body. Small and lonely, the red silk of her dress didn't hide the blood trailing from a bullet wound dead-center in her chest.

"Oh," he whispered softly. "Oh."

"Was she a friend?" Rick asked, surprising him.

"No," he said eventually, turning back around. "No, not a friend. I don't have friends."

Rick snorted, moving to Sirius' other hand. "No friends, huh? Then who you going to Hell for?"

The question seemed to circle through his mind, pinging off neurons, refusing to make any sense. He opened his mouth, then closed it, frowning. Rick's meaning snapped into place and he lunged forward, grabbing the other man's collar again.

Annoyance flashed over his face, but he patiently raised an eyebrow, like he understood how completely beyond himself Sirius was at the moment.

"Galloway... is not... my friend," he said, the last word laced with contempt. That word didn't even begin to cover what she was. "She..." He had to stop and search for any description, anything at all, that wouldn't sound as weak as that word was.

He tried again. "She's all the light there's ever been in a terrible, dark existence."

"Oh, so you're a poetic flyer," Rick muttered to himself. "Awesome."

Sirius blinked slowly, his mind stuck on that train of thought. "She understands. She understands why I need her so much. That's why she didn't go with Logan."

"Yeah?" Rick twitched the coat he'd given Sirius aside, wiping the blood away from the wound on his chest. "Why's that, then?"

"Because without her..." Sirius sighed, letting go of Rick's collar. "Without her nothing matters. It's all just... just—it hurts. She numbs it."

"For real, man, what was in that coke?" Rick asked the question, but Sirius didn't think he was actually talking to him.

He laughed anyway. "I don't know. It was good, then bad, then this. Is this good?"

Now Rick blinked, obviously taken aback. "I don't know. Is it?"

Sirius considered this, brow wrinkling. His eyes were starting to ache again. Then he shook his head. "Nothing's good anymore. She took it with her to Hell."

"So, aside from keeping you numb," Rick said after a moment of silence, "why are you jumping through all these hoops?"

Sirius shook his head hard, blood encrusted strands of hair whipping around his face. "No!" he snapped. "She doesn't keep me numb. She keeps everything else numb. She... with me—it's like I've never really felt anything, before I felt her. You understand?"

"Yeah, actually," Rick murmured, catching Sirius by surprise.

His grip loosened until his hands fell away, but he didn't lean back as Rick finished patching him up. Softly, he said, "I don't have any words. I can't tell you what she is, or how much it hurts. It's like something's been torn out of me. And not something that will just grow back if I give it enough time."

Rick moved as if he were going to stand up, but Sirius grabbed his shoulder. "Please," he said, voice desperate. "Please. I just need someone to understand. I need them to understand that I can't live without her. But that I can't die until she's free."

A ragged breath worked its way down his throat, and the Hunter stood, pulling Sirius to his feet. They started making their way to the door, Sirius resting heavily against Rick. His legs were heavy and weak.

He stumbled down the steps, hand fisted in the back of Rick's shirt, the other gripping the railing. When they finally got out the front door, the sun beat down on them, forcing Sirius' over-sensitive eyes closed.

Every sound around them was amplified, so he could clearly hear Alex and Caleb whispering amongst themselves.

"Why would you say that to him?" Alex hissed. "You know how he was when he finally came back. You saw how screwed up in the head he was. Why do you keep reminding him?"

"I know, Alex, I know. I just," the Hunter sighed and Sirius heard him run his hand through his hair, "didn't mean to. I didn't mean to say it. But I don't get it."

"Don't get what?" she asked, voice softer.

"He's still never told me what happened. What made him ditch out on you... on me. He's never given a decent reason why he fell off the face of the earth nine years ago. Or why he came back strung out and beat up."

"Well then maybe we should stop asking," Alex responded, her voice sounding pained.

"I don't get why he keeps taking the mutt's side all the sudden," Caleb said plaintively. "That's really what I don't get. And I just... I just keep wondering if it's because he sees himself when he looks at him."

"Caleb. He is not taking Sirius' side. He—"

Sirius briefly lost track of the conversation when Rick leaned him up against the truck.

"Stay here for a second," Rick murmured. "Take these."

Something was pressed into his hands. He trailed his fingers over the shape, then put on the sunglasses Rick had given him. He tried to open his eyes, but it was still too much and he let them fall closed again.

Alex and Caleb must have realized they had been joined, because they'd fallen silent. Sirius listened to Rick's steps crunching across the gravel-strewn asphalt of the parking lot.

"So, what, we're babying him now?" Caleb said, tone nasty. "You want to get him home so you can tuck him in, too?"

Rick just sighed wearily. "Leave it alone, man."

"The hell I will," Caleb snapped. "He fucking disappears and I wake up nearly dead, but I'm just suppose to leave it alone?"

"Caleb—" Rick tried.

"No! What is your deal with him all the sudden, Rick? Three days ago, you couldn't fucking stand him. What was that you said?" Caleb blew out a sneering breath. "That's right. 'Why don't we take his damn head off and see if that will keep him dead'. Remember?"

"Yeah, well, things change, don't they?" Rick's voice was bitter and weary, and Sirius forced his eyes open to see the two Hunters standing across from each other on the opposite side of the truck, with Alex standing a little off to the side, right between them.

Her green eyes danced back and forth between her brother and their friend.

"What's changed?" Caleb asked, voice nearly pleading now. "Why are you so hellbent on helping him now?"

"I..." he paused, then carefully continued, "I know what it's like to have what you love torn away from you. We all do. Look, I get it, brother. You've got some serious hate in you for him. Because you each blame the other for this Collector chick. But that doesn't change the fact that the only way you get to save her like she saved you is through him."

Silence echoed between them after that, and Sirius didn't dare move. But he couldn't help it as his legs gave and his heart seized, whatever Valentia had put in that powder giving him a minor heart attack.

He slid down the side of the truck, back colliding with the warm asphalt and tried desperately to drag in a breath, but his lungs were frozen, everything trying to stop. His eyes rolled back in his head, everything going dark until his body finally relaxed, his heart picking up a steady pace again.

The Hunters hovered over him.

Someone let out a small scream when he lurched upright, coughing and spitting. He gagged, clotted blood working its way out of his lungs. When it was done, he leaned against the truck's running board, rubbing at his streaming eyes. 

"Serves you right," Caleb said.

"Not now," Rick hissed, and Sirius looked up just in time to see Caleb throw his hands in the air, frustration plain on his face.

"When, Rick?" Caleb ran a hand through his hair, pulling the dark strands away from his face. "He deserves it. He was fucking stupid and this happened." The Hunter crouched down, looking Sirius in the eye. "Guess you don't care quite as much as you were selling about getting her back. 'Cause you sure as hell can't do it like this."

Any other time, Sirius would have ripped his throat out for saying that. But right now he was susceptible and vulnerable. He nodded slowly, then rasped, "You're right."

"Nothing you say is going to stick right now, Caleb," Rick said quietly into the stunned silence after Sirius had agreed with the Hunter. "He's scrambled like an egg right now. Probably won't remember a majority of this. That's why I've been telling you to save it."

Caleb turned to look up at his friend, then slowly stood up. They shared a glance that spoke volumes, then Rick nodded subtly. Whatever had passed between them seemed to unruffle Caleb's feathers somewhat, and then Rick and Alex were hauling Sirius to his feet again. 

He let them help him into the truck, docile as a lamb, then waited as they spoke outside, standing in front of the truck.

It startled him when a warmth pressed against his side, but he relaxed when he looked down and found Galloway leaning against him, blonde head resting on his shoulder. There was something translucent and wavering about her, but he didn't care.

"Rough night?" she asked softly, phantom fingers threading through his.

His chest shook with a suppressed sob. "I've had better," he choked out.

"Mm," she hummed. "Why do you do these things?" Her fingers skimmed over the bandages on his chest and the blood still painting the lower half of his face from the nosebleed Valentia's powder had given him.

Sirius shrugged, his shoulder gliding against her warmth.

"Oh, you can do better than that," she said with a small laugh. She turned her head, brushing her lips against the corner of his jaw.

He turned and wanted to touch her face, but some instinct told him his hand would pass right through her, and it would break his already broken heart. She bit her lip, eyes soft and worried.

A smile designed to hide the hurt tugged at his mouth. He breathed deeply, desperate to catch any hint of sunlight or cinnamon. "Ah," he sighed out a laugh, "come on, sweetheart. You know that's the wrong question."

"Okay," she said, a small smile playing around her mouth. "So how do you not do things like these?"

Sirius looked out the windshield. The Hunters were still talking, Rick looking intense as he spoke to Caleb. 

She lightly touched his jaw, turning his face back to hers. Raising an eyebrow, she waited for his answer, that same lovely smile on her lips. He gave her a half-smile. "I have you."

She scoffed, but he shook his head.

"Really. This," he gestured toward himself, "was a nightly occurrence before I knew you. It's not the question of why I poison myself, Galloway. It's how do I keep from doing it now, knowing you're down there getting torn apart because of me."

This made her fall silent, biting at her lip again. His teeth ached for wanting to do the exact same thing.

"I still love you," she finally said. "I still need you."

He closed his eyes, just to have them fly open as the driver's side door jerked open, startling him. Galloway was gone, and Caleb was sliding in behind the wheel. Sirius slumped back in the seat, eyes aching all over again.

The engine turning over grated against his ears, and he brought his hands up to cover them until the engine was running smoothly. The Hunter pulled slowly out onto the main street, waiting for Rick and Alex to pass them before moving in behind them, following them out of Vegas for the final time.

As far as he was concerned, Sirius was determined to never set foot in this wretched city ever again.

"Rick told me I need to lay off right now," Caleb started. "That nothing I say is going to stick."

"But you're still going to say it, aren't you?" he guessed. "That's okay. I'm not mad right now. Which is nice. I've been mad for a long time."

He looked over to find that Caleb was very obviously second-guessing himself. Then the Hunter shook his head, dark hair catching the sun in a way that made Sirius' eyes zero in on the strands. He jerked his gaze away, missing how her hair had shimmered like spun gold in the sunlight she'd loved so much.

"What the hell happened tonight, Sirius?" Caleb asked, voice low and unhappy.

He blew out a long breath, using the sleeve of his borrowed coat to rub the blood away from his face. It was beginning to dry and itch. "Which part?" he asked.

"Whichever," Caleb returned sharply. "All of it."

Sirius frowned. "I can only do one of those, though."

"I think I prefer you when you're sober," he muttered under his breath. "Start with why you freaking left, and walk me through what the hell ever led up to you being tied to a chair and fileted like a damn fish."

Sirius lightly touched the bandages on his chest, a small laugh escaping him. "This wasn't because of me. It was because of Galloway."

There was a very long silence. Then: "What?"

"The witch who was doing this, she had a... I dunno... issue, I guess, with Galloway. She'd killed her brother, you see. Long time ago. Carved his heart out," he said with a delighted laugh. "I kinda like that, you know? I mean, she's just such a badass. Sexy as all hell."

"Yeah," Caleb said dryly. "Okay. That sort of explains why you were all set to tear her throat out.. I would imagine she said some rather nasty things about Galloway."

"Called her a whore." A growl rattled in his throat, his teeth lengthening. "She's not a whore."

Caleb just nodded once, in a way that felt very noncommittal to Sirius, who growled again.

"Let's go back to you leaving the motel," the Hunter said with a sigh. "We didn't have anywhere near the blood you said we needed. So why the field trip?"

"Yes I—" He bit his tongue, cutting himself off. His brow wrinkled. Had Sekhmet told him that he couldn't tell the other Hunters about this? He shook his head, but couldn't remember. "I was going to give her what we had, then force her to give me the knife."

"Force her how?" Caleb asked quietly.

"Any way it took," Sirius muttered, looking out the window, mesmerized by the passing buildings. "Why do you care?"

"Because we don't torture people, Sirius."

"Well goodie for you," he spat. "Demons do. They torture people. They like to torture people. They're torturing her. You remember that, don't you?" He turned to the Hunter, suddenly pleading. "Don't you?"

Caleb flinched, hand tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. "I remember," he whispered. "Will it make any dent to say she wouldn't want you to torture people to get her out?"

"Even bad ones?" he asked, petulant.

Caleb winced again. "Even those."

"No," Sirius said after a moment of thought. "No dent. Besides, she said I could do whatever I needed to, to get her out."

A scoff was the Hunter's only response.

"She did!" Sirius insisted. "When what I took knocked me out, Persephone pulled me and Galloway into a dream. She's..." His voice wavered, and he shook his head to clear out the cloud of sorrow. "She's hurt. Bad. But she told me. She looked me right in the eye and told me to do whatever it takes to kill Theron. So that's what I'm going to do."

"For Christ's sake," Caleb said, sounding exhausted. "You're a fucking addict, Sirius. You should know those dreams are just that—dreams."

He blinked slowly, the words ringing around him. Especially the one.

"I know the difference between a drug-induced dream and a god-induced one," he said, low and snarling.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what you all think," Caleb muttered, swearing as he got caught by a stoplight. "How long is it going to take you to detox anyway? Like you said, we don't have a whole lot of time to wait."

Sirius was struck dumb by this for a split second. Then he was laughing, tears of mirth replacing the ones sorrow had burned his eyes with moments ago. It sent his heart into a flutter, the arrhythmia igniting another small heart attack. He slumped to the side, lips parted but unable to draw breath. A fresh trickle of blood came from his nose as he waited. 

When he could, he sucked in a ragged breath, rubbing at his chest. Again, he wondered what Valentia had put in that concoction she'd given him. He figured that whatever it had been, it had been designed with the thought of keeping him immobilized in mind.

He blinked slowly, exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep, regardless of the fact that he knew he'd be woken by screaming nightmares.

"Do I need to pull over?" Caleb asked, startling him. He'd momentarily forgotten he wasn't alone.

"No," Sirius rasped. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, but for how long?" He gave Sirius a sidelong glance. "I've got a little experience with this and I know it gets ugly."

This made Sirius smile, but he didn't dare laugh again, not eager for another attack.

"You keep talking to me like I'm some human asshole," Sirius said, then snorted. "I'll suffer for another maybe six hours—three tops if I can get some decent sleep—and be fine. No shakes, no withdrawal, no five-fucking-step program."

When all Caleb did was gape at him, he said, "This isn't some human weakness, Caleb. Some stupid chemical dependency. I don't need those drugs to stay running smoothly, my body doesn't need those drugs. I wanted them. I wanted the edges to go soft, okay? Do you understand that?"

"No," Caleb said stiffly.

Sirius laughed again. "Yes you do. All you Hunters do, because the only edges you've got are sharp. Jagged. Alcohol's a drug, you know that right?"

"How the fuck would you know about our edges?"

"Because she used me to dull hers sometimes," Sirius said, voice far away. "Drank like a fish. I swear, sometimes even I had a hard time keeping up with her. I'm surprised she can even get drunk at this point."

"S-stop," Caleb said. "Please, just...can you stop talking about her."

Sirius glanced at the Hunter. "Why? 'Cause it hurts to think that someone had a side of her that you never did?" He shook his head. "I know the feeling."

They both let out heavy sighs, glancing at one another. An unsteady truce seemed to settle in the space between them.

"Do you love her?" Sirius asked abruptly. "I mean, are you in love with her?"

Caleb didn't answer for a long time, but his edges were still dull and he couldn't muster up any aggravation. All he could do was wait for the answer.

"I thought I was," he finally said. "I mean, I love her," he paused as Sirius growled out of reflex, "but I don't think I'm in love with her. And... I know enough to know there's a difference."

"Why aren't you?" Sirius asked, looking out the window, slumped against the door. "Why aren't you in love with her?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Caleb grumbled.

"I don't know," Sirius said. "A real one?"

"You get weird when you're high, you know that? I mean, more than usual." Sirius didn't respond, but Caleb never answered the question. Instead, he said, "Why don't you crash out, man? I'm going to call Logan, let him and Rhys know we're ahead of schedule and to have them meet us at Devils Tower."

Easily distracted, all Sirius said was, "Tell Logan to bring the Chevelle."

Caleb snorted. "Yeah, she'd like that," he said softly, just as Sirius closed his eyes.

He slipped away into an uneasy sleep, hoping and fearing that he would see her one more time today.