Beta'd by the amazingly talented MaiaMadness! Thanks!
Well have you had enough?
You greedy little bastard
You will get what you deserve
When all is said and done
I will be the one
To leave you in your misery
And hate what you've become
"Had Enough" by Breaking Benjamin
***
He sat in the corner of his cell, the dank, slippery wall pressed uncomfortably against his back. As he stared straight ahead at the wall in front of him, he wished there was someone to talk to, even though they'd probably be just as cracked as him and mutter answers like, "Shouldn't have… love you, know that?" or "Shut up, you … Can't remember your damn name, must be crazy." Just the thought of it made his lips curl into a ghost of a smile.
Sirius's thoughts switched to the people he'd once known, the ones that had loved him, and he'd loved them too. They were good people, he told himself as another Dementor swooped down the hall and settled in front of his cell door. I did not deserve to have them as friends. I betrayed them.
And he was always right, so there was no doubt in his mind that they were too good for him. Because he was always right.
That was what Prongs had told him after Sirius had helped him with a homework assignment. Yes, that's true, he realized suddenly… All his good memories had nearly disappeared; it was a miracle he could still remember this one, since right after Prongs had said that, he'd – Sirius couldn't remember. Damn it. A cold, helpless feeling settled in his chest and he shivered uncontrollably, wrapping his arms around himself. Whether it was for the cold or for comfort, he didn't know, but either way it didn't help any. He chuckled bitterly to himself.
The Dementor screeched and tried to move through the bars of the cell, and for one foolish moment Sirius wished it would just break through and finish him off. It seemed as though he'd been here forever, though that was impossible. He had no sense of time anymore; he could have been here for twelve years for all he knew.
He didn't know just how true that thought was.
That had been a week ago.
As he stumbled away from the damned place, the unholy prison full of demons like himself, Sirius breathed in the salty air and his thoughts cleared a bit. Merlin that felt better. He sniffed the air again before looking around, and then, using what little strength he had left, he started his journey across the vast distance of water in hope of reaching the warm, welcoming land that was miles away.
The fuzziness in his head lessened the farther he swam, little by little, until he was almost his old self. At least, he hoped he was changing back. A high-pitched whimper escaped his lips, and he was only confused for a mere second before remembering that he was in his Animagus form.
A sudden realization hit him and he stopped paddling for a moment, simply rocking back and forth in the violent waves. He now knew the rest of the memory that had been bothering him, the one with Prongs and the Transfiguration assignment… After Prongs had said Sirius was always right, he'd kissed him… oh, sweet Merlin, he'd kissed him, and for some unfathomable reason Sirius had liked it.
He changed back into his human form and watched the water swirl around him. No land could be seen for miles; he was all alone in the middle of the ocean, with only the lingering seagulls and whatever dark creatures lurked below as company. He spread his arms outward to prevent himself from tipping over backward. Time seemed to stop as he stared unblinkingly out over the ocean, taking notice of every little detail that he saw: the way the black water surrounded him and felt suspiciously silky instead of cold; the setting sun out in the distance; the grey clouds above him. I haven't seen clouds in some time, he thought sadly. Everything seemed new for some strange reason, like he'd never seen it before. In a way, he liked it; it was refreshing, and gave him a cleansed sort of feeling.
"So," he said quietly, "it's over. I can go home now."
Closing his eyes and smiling, he let out a sigh of relief. It felt good to have something to look forward to again. His body relaxed mercifully; he hadn't felt safe or relaxed in years. The Dementors do that to people, he guessed. Everyone else in Azkaban (simply thinking the name sent horrifying shivers down his spine and put his nerves on end) was terrified of the creatures, and he didn't blame them. He tensed up again, much to his chagrin. He repeated the same words in his head or out loud – he didn't know which he was doing – in hopes of calming down again:
I can go home now. I can go home now. Home, home, home, home, home. I can go home…
But where was home? He'd destroyed everything he loved, everything Harry loved. Little baby Harry… his face dimly appeared in Sirius's mind (Sirius tried not to think that he'd unintentionally taken away Harry's family, his future) and he slipped six inches under the water's surface in a trance of utter failure.
It wasn't really his fault, he didn't know Peter would betray them, but all the time he'd spent in Azkaban had shattered him. When he had first arrived there, all he'd felt was rage and the urge to get revenge, to murder Peter, but as days slipped into weeks and months slipped into years, all in a flurry of confusion and desperation that he swore he'd forgotten his own name sometimes, the need for vengeance dissolved; and with that disappearance came guilt.
The guilt had hit Sirius like a ton of bricks. He'd started thinking differently; thinking that it was his fault that Peter was the spy, his fault that Peter sold Prongs and Lily out, and it was his fault that everything that was once good had turned into a smoldering pile of dark ashes.
And with the guilt came realization.
He'd killed Harry's mum and dad. The boy had no family, thanks to him. Sirius couldn't stop himself from thinking it, and he felt so utterly sorry for the mess Harry was in that the sensation nearly swallowed him whole. And, oh Merlin, what ever happened to good old Moony? He must have been devastated to have all his friends taken away…
Sirius loved Prongs with all his heart; it was the reason he'd asked to switch secret keeper positions with Peter. He wasn't afraid of Voldemort. He would gladly die the most painful death imaginable if it meant Prongs lived for one more day, one more hour, one more minute… But Prongs didn't love him as much as Sirius wanted him to. His heart was for Lily and for Lily only, and Sirius was simply something for experimentation and off-the-side pleasure.
He assumed Lily just wasn't enough at times.
It hurt him beyond belief being with Prongs at night, touching him and loving him, then having Prongs kiss him hastily good-bye and leave. He cried at the sight of his back exiting the room every time.
And Sirius got what he deserved in the end: this guilt. He'd sent Prongs to his death, and here he was, escaping his punishment. He was defying every law and order of life – he was avoiding what should have been happening right now. He'd killed Prongs… he'd killed him, ended his life. Sirius deserved the same fate. No, worse: the Dementor's Kiss sounded fair enough.
A sad smile formed on his lips as he realized that no matter what had happened, he still felt the pain that Prongs unknowingly inflicted upon him. Prongs was still hurting him, even though he wasn't alive anymore, and Sirius wasn't strong enough to fight him. These emotions will be the death of me, he thought in twisted awe.
He stopped paddling his legs and slipped another inch below the water. His bottom lip trembled slightly, letting out a small whimper. He questioned the point of life, and eventually came up with an answer that only he would ever know.
He would take this secret with him to the grave. And what a grave it would be!
His smile turned into a sadistic one, cheerful almost, and he brought his arms down to his sides. The water was much colder now; he felt the droplets freezing on his face and neck. There's a reason no one else has ever escaped from Azkaban, he thought vaguely. He then realized something else: the memory, the one with Prongs and the Transfiguration assignment, was as much of a bad memory as it was a good one. No wonder he still remembered it after all those years with the Dementors.
That memory had started this whole mess, all the pain he was in.
A wind picked up and his skin turned a soft shade of blue. He was shaking like mad now because of the cold, but that didn't mean he cared.
His chest constricted, resulting in breathing troubles. The world closed in around him, the walls he'd built tumbling down effortlessly, noiselessly. Nothing made sense anymore. The water brushed against his bottom lip, and he made one final decision.
Taking in a deep breath, one final breath, Sirius closed his eyes, allowing the water to seep into his lungs through his nostrils as he slowly sank below the surface. There was no doubt in his mind that this was the right decision – none at all.
Because he was always right. He'd betrayed Prongs. He shouldn’t have, no matter how much Prongs had hurt him, but he still did. Sirius deserved this. I deserve this, he convinced himself, I deserve this.
The black water enveloped him entirely, filling his tattered shoes, causing him to sink lower. When he opened his eyes for a brief moment he saw only a faint outline of the sun above him. It must have risen after he condemned himself. Fitting, the world saw him fall one last time. He closed his eyes again.
And he let out a whisper of a laugh.
If I had to, I would put myself right beside you
So let me ask, would you like that?
Would you like that?
And I don't mind if you say this love is the last time
So now I'll ask, do you like that?
Do you like that?
No
Try to find out what makes you tick
As I lie down, sore and sick
Do you like that?
Do you like that?
There's a fine line between love and hate
And I don't mind, just let me say
That I like that
I like that
Desperate, I will crawl
Waiting for so long
No love
There's no love
Die for anyone
What have I become?
"The Diary of Jane" by Breaking Benjamin
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