Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with it. That honor belongs to the great J.K. Rowling.

Summary- A glimpse at Sirius during his third week in Azkaban.

Unhinged

He had been thrown unceremoniously onto the dust-layered floor of the cell by the cold, unfeeling hands of the dementors. Immediately, he crawled to the far corner, drawing his knees in up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them tightly. Sirius's breathing came in harsh gasps, his breath turning into vapor as he exhaled.

That was how he had spent his first week in Azkaban. He had a total seven hours of sleep out of one hundred and sixty-eight hours there was in one week. Sleep had succumbed to him finally on the eight day, and Sirius had only awakened three times from nightmares; an improvement.

But Sirius could hardly stand it anymore. Whenever the days were gruesomely unmanageable, he clawed at his face, drawing blood at his temples: the warm, crimson liquid would run down his face. When the terrible memories would not leave him be for a moment one day, he knocked his head on the wall until sweet oblivion came to him.

It was the seventeenth day, and rough stubble covered his face. His hair was the greasiest it had ever been and hung lank in front of his eyes, lacking the elegance it used to accomplish. The cell smelled of urine, feces, vomit, and body odor. Not use to these living conditions, he was greatly peeved at first. But priorities change, and all he wanted was the memories to go away.

He sat in the corner now, looking out the small cut square in the slab of cement that they called a window. Sirius noticed how there were always starless nights at Azkaban. There was no sun at the island, only dreary gray skies.

Sirius drew in a shaky breath, drawing his knees back up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them tightly once again as the air grew colder. He was used to this now, but this time it felt distinctively worse. The dementors were hungrier than usual.

"I thought we were friends, Sirius!" Remus's pain-filled brown eyes.

"We are!"

"Friends don't let out secrets they've been trusted with!" Remus's face contorting with anger and betrayal.

"I'm sorry!"

"Shut up. Just shut up. I don't want to hear it. Don't come near me."

Sirius's body wracked with shudders. His hands rose to run through his filthy, knotted hair as he let out a trembling gasp.

"James! Oh God. Oh God! James I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! Just wake up, please, oh God, just wake up!" Dull hazel eyes behind askew glasses stared into nothingness.

He screwed his eyes shut, cradling his head tightly between his hands; his fingers gripped tightly at the hair at his temples. Outside of the cell, he could hear the rattling breaths of the dementors as they feasted. Screams erupted from his neighboring cells.

But he wouldn't scream. He wouldn't give in.

"You're brother's dead."

Pause. Shocked silence. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're brother—Regulus. We suspected he was a Death Eater. Good riddance I say. Carry on with your work, Black."

"Mr. Crouch, sir, how did he…die?"

"Oh we suspect he was killed by his own. I'm rather grateful; saves us a lot of work."

A sickening feeling clenched at his gut. The dementors' powers always picked at the most painful recollections he had. Without even realizing it, he started rocking his body back and forth.

Blank green eyes stared up at him out of a beautiful, and painfully pallor face. Auburn hair surrounded her head like a halo, making her even more tragically beautiful. He choked down another sob.

"Lily, Lily, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he started muttering.

The motorbike landed roughly twenty yards from the rubble that remained of the Potters' home. Sirius stumbled to the wreckage, his entire body going numb.

"James! James! Oh, God, oh no, oh dear God please no—Peter what have you done? James! James! Lily! James! Oh my God. Oh God, oh God, please no!"

A body stood out amongst the dusty rubble in the darkness. Black, untidy hair crowned the top of the head—a contrast to the white skin it covered.

Without thinking, a whimper escaped from his numb lips, his body quivering violently as he clutched at his hair even tighter.

"Don't, don't—just go away," he pleaded in a whisper. He knew the Sirius Black that existed twenty days ago would not act this pitifully, but that Sirius did not know what it was like to be tortured by memories like these.

"Just—I don't want to remember—just please go," he moaned, rubbing his hands over his ashen face. It was becoming gaunt. His throat was painfully tight and he swallowed the forming lump. His chest constricted tightly.

James. Empty hazel eyes.

Remus's look of betrayal.

"You're brother's dead."

Lily laughing.

Crumbling walls. Cries of a baby. Harry.

"Lily and James, Sirius, how could you!"

A loud explosion. Muggles running. Muggles screaming.

Sirius laughing. Hollow laughter.

James…

"You're brother's dead."

Lily's green eyes.

"Lily and James, Sirius, how could you!"

Muggles screaming.

"Give him to me, Hagrid. I'm his godfather."

Peter laughing at James and Sirius's antics.

Remus's disapproving frown.

"I thought we were friends!"

"For the first time, Sirius, I have to say I'm ashamed of you. What in bloody Hell possessed you to tell him? Snivellus, of all people?"

"I thought we were friends!"

"Moony…"

"You're brother's dead."

James. James. James.

"You abandoned me for that Potter when I needed you most! I looked up to you! Do you think I enjoy losing you as a brother? You've stabbed our family in the back, Sirius."

"Lily and James, Sirius, how could you?"

Explosion. Green light. Muggles screaming. Dead bodies littering the street.

"We're taking you in, Black, and you better not resist."

Hollow, hysterical laughter.

"Dumbledore's confirmed it. He was the secret-keeper. Pettigrew must've went after him when he heard Lily and James Potter had been killed."

"Please Hagrid—I'm his godfather."

"Merlin—Prongs, don't ever do that again! I thought you were going to get killed for sure."

"Relax, Padfoot, it's just Voldemort. I'm fine."

"James—please wake up. I promise—I'm sorry, I'm sorry, oh God just wake up I don't know what to do! I'm begging Prongs, I'm begging you—just wake up!"

A sob was released from his dry lips. Before he could stop it, a torrent of cries escaped from him, fresh tears escaped from his eyes and rolled down his almost-sunken cheeks.

"We trust you with our lives, Sirius. We trust you with Harry's life."

"Relax, Padfoot, it's just Voldemort. I'm fine."

An agonized howl escaped from him. He had screamed. He had given in.

It gradually grew warmer, but a chill still lingered. Shivering dying down slightly, Sirius suddenly lurched to the side and heaved dryly. He groaned, bringing his forehead to rest on the floor.

A bolt of lighting etched itself like white veins against the black sky. And Sirius endured.