Faster.

His claws raked across the pavement as he ran, every cell in his body pushed to the absolute limit. The barely healed lines on his chest opened, leaving a trail of dark blood in his wake.

He could smell them. The musky, sulphur scent of other Hellhounds. Under that was another scent, one he knew all too well. He refused to think about it.

A howl echoed around him and he realized he was the one howling. Now he couldn't refuse to acknowledge it. 

Galloway was bleeding. Badly.

Darkness licked eagerly at his sides, shadows whispering that he wouldn't be fast enough, that he couldn't save her, that he'd killed her.

Sirius howled again. If nothing else she would know he was coming.

His claws scrambled at the pavement, trying to find better purchase. The mark above his heart stung and ached, bleeding faster. He was getting closer. A scream echoed through the night, piercing his sensitive ears before being abruptly cut off. 

He was close.

Sirius pushed harder, his spine flexing as he stretched out in the air, his front paws barely touching the ground before his hind legs were propelling him forward again. 

His breath wouldn't keep up with his heart. There hadn't been another scream.  All he could smell was blood, so thick in the air it rested heavily on his tongue. Sweat matted his fur when he finally saw the darkened alley.

Glass from the burst streetlights littered the asphalt and he skidded to a stop, a shard piercing through the pad of his left forepaw. His sides heaved as he stared at the side street.

He didn't want to go in there. He had to.

Trembling, he let the shadows that had been nipping at his heels swarm over him, standing as it rearranged his bones. He yanked the piece of glass out of his palm; it chimed musically against the pavement when he threw it to the side.

The darkness had never hidden anything from him. He stumbled forward, already shaking his head.

At first, he tried to pretend that it was someone else. This woman's hair was dark, not a waterfall of pale gold.

The scent couldn't lie, though.

His legs gave out, knees slamming into the asphalt as he fell. His lips parted as he tried to inhale.

Her eyes were open, looking toward the alley's entrance. Her hair was dark because it had been soaked with her blood.

A choking sound startled him before he realized he was the one making it. Everything was coming apart around him. He tried to stand, but only managed one step before he was on his knees again. His hands were slick and he raised them to find the palms painted red.

Another of those ragged sounds tore itself free of his throat and he inched closer, hand tentatively touching her shoulder. His fingers brushed torn skin, claws clicking against exposed bone.

Like someone had removed the fog, everything suddenly snapped into crystal clear focus. He stared with wide eyes at what they'd done to her. Claw marks covered every inch of her, deep and fatal. White bone peeked at him—revealed ribs and shiny organs.

They'd torn her apart. They'd murdered her. Stolen her.

Mangled and broken, her gorgeous grey eyes dark, her blood was still leaching slowly across the asphalt. Sirius collapsed into her, burying his face in her ripped out throat. Blood, what hadn't been spilled onto the pavement, filled his nose and mouth. Sweet and familiar on his tongue, a thin keening sound filled his ears.

A sob broke loose and he sat up, pulling her with him. Rocking her slightly, his vision blurred, and ragged moans were the only thing that could get through his crushed throat as tears splashed onto the claw mark destroying her beautiful face.

He held her tighter, crying into her flayed shoulder, choking on agony, everything dark and cold and empty. All he could do was try and wait it out. Impossible grief crippled him, stripping away his ability to do anything other than hold her wrecked body.

Sirius didn't know how to do this. He didn't know how to stop the tears, or the sobs that made his throat ache. He'd never had reason before. His heart had been torn from his chest, but it wasn't like the other times. 

Physically, technically, it was still there, and he didn't understand how it could hurt more this way. Shards of agony shredded his mind, reminding him over and over and over that it was all gone. She was gone, and the world had gone with her.

It was his fault.

A shoe scuffing across pavement startled him, and he looked up. A human woman stood hesitantly on the street, and Sirius growled, the sound ripping through the air.

She squeaked and ran, and Sirius shook his head, breathing hard. His hands shook as he looked down at Galloway again. He needed to get her away from here.

Gathering her carefully to his chest, blood sluicing down the front of him, he stood, then had to lean against the brick wall of the alley. His breathing sped up, fire racing through him, burning and hollowing everything it touched. 

Sirius buried his face in her hair, the golden strands ruined by death. 

Again, one of those moments of clarity smacked into him, and he realized he was standing there holding nothing but her body. His breath stopped, and he looked up, his lips parted.

They took her.

The thought was wicked, evil. Rage speared through him, obliterating the grief, and he could stand again. He knew what to do with fury. That was something he could use.

Sunlight washed down the road, and he stared blankly, wondering how long he'd been here. Shaking it off, he started walking back to where he had left her car, not caring at the shocked, horrified looks of passersby. 

He carried her carefully, everything empty and cold inside of him. No matter how hard he tried to cling to the warm, bright anger, it slipped away, leaving him hollow. Not even the shattered grief from before came back to fill him.

The only thing he could manage to think was that she was dead and it was because of him. He might as well have torn her apart himself.

She's gone she's gone she's gone

Sirius snarled, trying to stop the words. He stumbled, then stopped, looking down at her body. She was growing lighter in his arms, and he didn't understand why until he blinked and she was gone, the only thing left the blood smeared across his skin and soaked into his clothes.

The loss of her smashed into him a second time, driving him to his knees once more. He panted, gritting his teeth as rollicking waves of madness and pain rolled through him, breaking him into little pieces. He clutched at his heart, the grief so intense he thought he'd be sick.

He stared down at the concrete, coming to the understanding that there would be no living like this. He didn't need to survive this. He didn't want to live without her.

The thought made his head come up, a peaceful numbness settling over him like a blanket. The Audi was just around the corner and he got into the car. Her scent enveloped him and he closed his eyes, which was a mistake.

In the darkness behind his eyelids, she lay on a table, glittering blades hanging around her. She looked up at him, begging him, her eyes wide and waiting and scared.

His eyes snapped back open.

A voice that sounded suspiciously like hers snapped, I'm in Hell and it's your fault, jackass. If you're dead, who's going to come get me? Who's going to kill the bastards that did this to me?

Sirius sat up straight, face going slack at the thought. His breath quickened, then slowed again, that apathy dragging him back down.

She whispered, You know what you need to do, Sirius.