"There's no pride in sharing scars to prove it."

- Bastille

                                                                        ***

Sirius woke up just as the sun was setting. Devils Tower loomed in front of them, the remaining light turning its pale stone blood-red against the dusky, indigo sky behind it. He got out of the truck and looked up to find a full moon already riding high above the pillar of stone.

He shivered slightly, feeling the portal's sinister magic tug at him, wanting to lead him home. It didn't feel as close as he was hoping, and he looked straight up. The tower's height made him feel a bit dizzy, but the light shimmering at the top let him know exactly where they needed to go.

"It's here, isn't it?" Rick murmured from right next to him.

Sirius looked back down to find Caleb and Alex were already standing at the rocky bottom of the tower, talking quietly to one another. Rick's eyes were scanning the base as well, most likely hoping the portal would be easy to get to.

"Can't you see it?" Sirius asked curiously, gesturing up to the top of the tower were ghastly red and black shadows flickered together.

Rick's only response was to shake his head, catching Sirius by surprise. But he didn't say anymore.

The Hunter hadn't spoken to him since the fiasco with Sekhmet three days ago, and Sirius hadn't cared to force any conversation. Every now and then, he'd catch all three Hunters watching him carefully, but not with wariness like they used to.

Instead, Sirius got the distinct impression that they were simply waiting for him to fall to pieces again. He wasn't sure he had enough pieces left to accomplish that. Sekhmet had killed something inside of him, and Sirius could barely worry about it.

He felt overwrought. Like a nerve poked one too many times. Short-circuited and numb, it was difficult to think about anything beyond getting to Hell. Now they were here, and he still couldn't force himself to think of the potential challenges they would have to fight through.

Portals to Hell were heavily guarded—enchantments and traps lined the tunnels leading to the rings. He didn't know how to prepare the Hunters for what they were going to see. He didn't think there was any way to prepare for Hell.

Caleb and Alex had joined them, each casting another of those expectant glances at him. Sirius took a moment to wonder if they knew he saw all of those concerned looks, then decided it didn't matter.

None of it mattered. Not up here.

"We have to go to the top," Rick finally said.

Caleb sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was afraid of that. I don't suppose you've picked up rock-climbing as a hobby?"

The only answer this elicited was a weary snort from Rick. Alex sighed, perching on the hood of Rick's car. "That kind of seems like something we should have known before we got here," she said, shooting a pointed glance at Sirius.

"I've never been to this one." He shrugged. "Why would I assume a portal to Hell was on top of the tower?"

Alex scowled, but obviously didn't have a response to that. They stood in silence for a moment until Rick said, "When are those witch friends of yours supposed to be here?"

Caleb's eyes brightened and he snapped his fingers twice. Both Alex and Rick nodded, and Sirius closed his eyes briefly. He hated transportation magic. It always made him a little nauseous. 

"Are they strong enough to get all of us up there?" Alex asked, head tilting back to peer up at the top of the tower. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the white stone of the tower reflected the moonlight now.

"Yes," Sirius muttered before Caleb could. He caught the Hunter's eye and sighed. "Are you going to let him kill me?"

Caleb admirably only hesitated for a moment. "Logan's not going to kill you."

"He might try," Sirius reminded him. "And his whore brother. They both wanted me away from her. What's to stop them from trying to arrange that permanently?"

"You know I come by everything naturally. I've never sold anything. Didn't she tell you that?" an unfamiliar voice floated through the air, making everyone but Sirius jump.

He had smelled them three miles away, Logan's familiar magic four miles away. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and he found himself flung to the side, bashing into a nearby tree. The air rushed from his lungs as he was pinned three feet off the ground, and he soon found he couldn't freely draw another breath.

Sirius didn't bother struggling, watching as Logan and Rhys came from the nearby trees. Rhys tipped his head back, and Sirius could feel as the witch's power sifted through his mind, his memories. His protective walls had long since crumbled and he didn't have the strength to bother trying to heave them back up.

Rhys tugged at the memory of how he'd found her and Sirius gasped, "Don't!"

The witch didn't listen, and Sirius could see as his own memories played behind sage-green eyes. Then Rhys swore, tearing his gaze away. A hand went up to cover his face, and he leaned heavily against a tree before sinking to his knees.

Logan's cold, dark eyes drilled into Sirius'. "She's dead."

"Yes," Sirius rasped as soon as the freezing hold on his throat loosened. The magic pinning him disappeared, and he dropped to the ground moments before his own blood poured into his lungs, choking him. Blood spewed from his mouth, sulfuric on his tongue.

"Logan, don't—"

"Don't interfere," Logan hissed, and Sirius looked up in time to see Caleb fly backwards into his truck, striking the metal with a nasty thud.

Sirius choked on more blood as magic sank a clawed hand into his throat, forcing his head to tilt back, Logan towering over him. The witch's voice was stone-steady when he asked, "Were you there? Did you do it?"

The question didn't make any sense at first, and all he could do was offer Logan a blank stare.

"It was other Hounds," Rhys muttered from where he was still on the ground. "They... they to—" A shuddering gasp interrupted his words. "God, Logan, what they did to her."

Logan made a small, pained sound, turning his head slightly. Softly, Rhys said, "He feels responsible."

"I told her," Logan snapped, waving a vicious hand. Stinging pain erupted across his entire body as Logan ripped into his nervous system, leaving him trembling. "I told her I'd send you to Hell if you got her killed."

Sirius felt the skin of his throat split.

"Stop!" Alex screamed, but she seemed to be frozen in place, Rick struggling against the same invisible bonds she was.

Rhys was standing now, his face pale and cruel as he stood by his brother. "If you stop trying to interfere," he told the Hunters, "I'll let you go."

"He's the only way into Hell," Caleb said, getting unsteadily to his feet. He gingerly touched the back of his head, fingers coming away red. "He's the only way to get her back and you know it, Logan!"

Sirius' blood stopped spilling down his chest, and Logan's fingers trembled in the air. Rhys looked away from the two Winters siblings, who collapsed as he released whatever magic he'd been using on them. Caleb took a cautious step closer, but he seemed afraid to say anything.

Rick wasn't. "The fuck, asshole?" he snarled, running over to Sirius, pressing a frantic hand against the Hellhound's throat. Sirius batted his hand away, knowing this, at least, he truly deserved.

Another flick of Logan's hand tossed Rick back toward his sister, who scrambled forward and clutched at his sleeve to keep him from attacking the witch. Then Logan was looming over Sirius.

He dropped to his knees and grabbed the collar of Sirius' shirt, jerking him up to a sitting position. Sirius still wasn't fighting back. He couldn't as Galloway's words rang brutally in his head. How it would destroy her if Logan got hurt. How scared she was that he would be the one to hurt the witch.

"What. Happened?" Logan growled, his face inches away from Sirius', his eyes mad with grief and rage.

Blood pooled on his tongue, then disappeared. His lungs cleared and the gash in his throat sealed itself. The shredding sensation across every nerve in his body didn't stop, leaving him shaking.

To his shock and shame, tears burned his eyes and Logan's fingers loosened their grip on his shirt collar. Sirius closed his eyes. He'd thought after Sekhmet he was done with this. That he'd managed to mute or somehow control the emotions that had torn into him nearly every day since her death.

Slowly, Sirius peeled Logan's fingers away from his collar, curling forward slightly to rest his elbows on his knees. One hand covered his eyes and he concentrated on breathing, focusing in on the painful magic still dancing around his nerve endings.

The pain gave him a focus point, allowing his voice to remain steady as he said, "I didn't want her to see. I didn't... want her to understand it." He looked up, meeting the witch's gaze. "How weak I am. She—I understand that she knew, that she realized... but it's a different thing to see it."

Logan was kneeling in front of him, grief still bubbling behind his eyes. Rhys stood a step behind his brother, still pale, mouth an angry slash. But neither of them offered any interruption.

"So, I told her I wanted to go alone," he whispered. "I told her... that it would be easier that way. Better." The last word slipped out as a snarl.

But no one moved, seeming to understand that it was aimed inward, not an aggression toward any of them.

"I was talking to Valentia... about the demon-blade. That's when I smelled them." His claws stretched, flexing on their own.

"Other Hellhounds," Rhys said hoarsely.

"Yes," Sirius hissed. "Other Hellhounds."

Malechi. Selene. Lucia. Bane.

He knew exactly who had killed her. Their scents were as familiar as his own. His training mates. He'd fought with and against them, stolen for and from them. Those four were the closest thing to family he could claim. He'd gone to war with them. Bled beside them, bled for them... before he'd learned not to.

He dreamed of what he'd do when he found them. Dreamed of how he'd repay them for the pain and terror they'd subjected her to.

Logan stood up abruptly, turning to his brother. The two stared at one another, and Sirius could practically see the thoughts flying between them. 

Then, Rhys hissed softly. He passed a dark look over Sirius. "Fine," he muttered. "But only once." He shot a nasty look at his half-brother. "Unless you want me crazy?"

"How would I know the difference?" Logan snapped back, then shook his head in quick apology.

Sirius watched warily as the mind-reader stalked toward him. A brief scuffle between Rick and Alex caught his eye as he pulled away from his sister, lunging toward the witch, just to be caught by Caleb.

Logan turned. "This is the only way I'm leaving him alive, Caleb," he warned curtly. "Leash your dog."

Rick snarled and Sirius nearly laughed, but then Rhys was kneeling in front of him, and he didn't have any time to prepare himself. The witch put a hand on either side of his face, index fingers pressing into his temples, staring into his eyes.

The witch's power snaked into and around his mind, trapping him and plunging him into a silver-green fog. Sirius inhaled deeply, barely twitching when Rhys' voice wound around him, magic brushing over whatever passed for his Soul.

"The less you struggle, the less this will hurt," Rhys whispered. "By all means, fight it all you want."

But Sirius was no stranger to this kind of magic. It was a favorite of Hades and Theron alike, pillaging the minds of those who served them. So he relaxed, letting the strands of magic poke through his neurons, exploring thought and memory.

He didn't expect Rhys to dig as deeply as he did. Didn't expect the witch to pull the memories forward, trapping them both, rather than just looking at them. They both gasped as the memories snapped around them.

Blood. Death. They fill his nose. Men shout and scream. Guts are slippery under his feet. A sword is in his hand, a smile on his face as he runs an Athenian through. Hades hadn't specified which side he needed to be on. Just that he owed the god sixty Souls before the battle waned today.

"Too far," Rhys muttered.

A horse screams and Sirius watches in delight as the English fall in the bog around them. The Scots he's with cheer as horse and man alike are forced to their knees by the thick, black mud. His hair is heavy with blood already as he slits the throat of a soldier who could be no more than sixteen.

"No."

A woman is beneath him. He's already forgotten her name.

"Jesus," Rhys hissed, fingers pressing harder into the thin bone of Sirius' temples

Salt bites his nose as he plays with the pirate running down the streets of Port Royal. Working for Hell doesn't satiate his appetite for blood quite as well as working for Hades had, but at least he didn't have to put up with Persephone. A whiff of perfume catches his attention and he turns to find a whore eyeing him with interest. "Just a moment, darling," he calls.

The magic tore itself closer to the present.

Terror fills his nose, his throat, his mouth. Hades is over the top of him and he can't move. The god smiles, fangs flashing. "Theron told me why you're here. In the pits. I knew I'd see you like this again. Never much for rules, were you, Siri?" He can't answer as fangs tear into his throat and a hand traces down his stomach. A whimper escapes him as he realizes Hades doesn't just want his blood.

A whine escaped him now, echoed by the witch.

"What do you mean you don't like Sinatra?" Galloway asks in mock outrage. "What are you? Communist?" He laughs, shaking his head, wanting to reach over and tuck a strand of wind-blown hair behind her ear.

"Finally," Rhys grunted, sounding relieved, but Sirius started to struggle now. Pain lanced through his head, tearing at his brain.

She looks awful, covered in blood and bruises. The werewolf virus rampages through her and he winces as her ribs snap, one after the other, sounding like machine-gun fire. He paces back and forth, not knowing what to do.

Rhys' fingers started to heat against his skin, the magic clawing forward now.

Her nails scrape along his back, her breath coming out in a great, shaky gasp. He kisses her throat, her jaw, her mouth. He still almost can't believe this is real. She nudges at his shoulder, but he growls at her, not wanting to stop for anything. Her body twists, sinuous as a snake and before he realizes how she's done it, he's on his back, looking up at her. Sunrise gilds her blonde hair, light running over the curves of her body as she moves. Pleasure soars through him, and his breath catches as he looks at her face and finds that same pleasure reflected back.

"Flexible," Rhys murmured. "I know."

Sirius snarled, but he still couldn't move, trapped inside his own head, unsure where or even when he was anymore.

He's on his knees, agony choking him as he finds what's left of her.

"No," Rhys breathed. "Not twice."

Darkness floods over and into him, hissing that it doesn't want to share. That it will kill him before it lets him go a second time.

"That's a nasty thing to be playing with." Rhys sighed, fingers loosening their hold on Sirius.

The magic started to shift, unwinding itself from his memories, but Sirius wasn't done. He shoved the memory of his oath at Rhys, watching the witch stiffen in shock as the words and sheer honesty hit him.

"You missed that one," Sirius said, voice strained. The witch furrowed his brow, not moving when Sirius struggled to his feet.

"Sirius," Alex started, tears making glittering paths down her cheeks, but he didn't want to hear anything else right now. He couldn't bear to look at the witch. Not after that.

He shook his head, waving a hand behind him. He stumbled toward the tree line, wanting whatever will pass for privacy here. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Rhys on his knees, hands covering his eyes. Sirius heard as the witch's breath trembled in and out, painful and unearned.

"Happy now?" Rick growled, voice echoing in the woods around them. "I thought you said they were friends, Caleb?"

"They are," he responded, but there was a furious edge to his words. "What did he just do to him, Logan? What did you do?"

Darkness crowded around him as he moved deeper into the woods. Sirius inhaled deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. Trying to convince himself that the terror and love and heartbreak were old. That they weren't happening right now.

It didn't work, and he fell to his hands and knees, retching. Bile caught at the back of his throat as he was violently sick. His entire body strained, claws digging into the ground as he tried to get rid of that sense of violation Rhys had left him with.

When it was over, he lunged to his feet, just to collapse against a tree. His claws left score marks in the bark as he fell to his knees. Rhys had delved too deep, pulling things to the surface Sirius hadn't thought about for hundreds of years, and for good reason.

Old pain and ancient abuse echoed through his body, making him curl in on himself. Rhys had started them, and now they wouldn't stop. 

Hades making him beg for attention he didn't want. Hot blood running down his face as he fought for whoever owned him in that moment. Persephone forcing him to her bed, just to leave him bleeding after the fact. 

He shook, sickness bubbling in his chest, poisoning his heart. Distantly, he could hear the others speaking. Rick's animated voice rose, followed by a sound of outrage from Alex. Then Caleb's calm voice interceded. He didn't care about what words were being spoken, regardless of the fact that he knew they were about him.

He didn't know. He wouldn't have done it on purpose, she whispered, soft voice right next to his ear. Phantom fingers brushed through his hair, making him shudder.

Sirius didn't believe her. He'd spent too long around those who reveled in inflicting pain to believe that. Rhys had wanted to hurt him, so he'd hurt him in the worst way possible.

Fingers tentatively touched his shoulder, but he couldn't even flinch. 

"You hear her," Rhys whispered hoarsely. 

"Get away from me." Sirius growled, but the sound was half-hearted at best.

"I didn't... I wouldn't have..."

"I don't need your pity," he snarled, sudden rage getting him to his feet. He stared at the witch, watching as his own dread and horror played behind a stranger's eyes. "You decided to play somewhere you weren't welcome, and we both paid the consequences. You'd think someone like you would know a Hellhound's mind isn't a walk through a field of fucking daisies."

Rhys had the grace to look away. Then, he asked, "How long?"

"How long what?" Sirius snapped, trying not to think about who he was talking to. Trying not to think about how Rhys had touched her.

"How long have you been hearing her voice?" Rhys clarified, his eyes flickering in the low light.

Sirius stayed silent for a long time. He didn't owe the witch any more answers than he'd already stolen. "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not," Rhys said after a moment. "But I am curious."

"I couldn't give a single fuck about your curiosity," Rick said from behind them. They both turned slowly, having heard the Hunter approach in one way or another. 

Rick shot a nasty look at Rhys before turning slightly. "Sirius, are you..."

All Sirius had to do was look at the Hunter, and the question immediately stopped. Whatever had happened in Rick's past, whatever Set had done to him, they gave him an understanding of Sirius' past. Empathy flickered deeply in his gun-metal eyes, but Sirius knew there was true understanding there, not just empty regret.

Rick gave him a short nod, then turned to the witch. Eyes cold and hateful, he said, "We're ready to go. Seeing as how you're the only other person who's really been to Hell, we need to talk to you."

"Logan's been to Hell," Sirius said, puzzled. He remembered Galloway telling him about that.

Rhys shifted uncomfortably, his eyes turning hollow. "Logan's not coming with us to Hell." He met Sirius gaze. "He's going to meet us in Purgatory."