Disclaimer~ I do not own anything but the idea
Sirius sat in his room, with his head in his hands, waiting, waiting, waiting. He was waiting for his father to blow up again. He had already used the Cruciartis curse twice tonight. Sirius was in huge trouble, he had really messed up now. He needed to leave. Sirius picked up the two-way mirror James gave him. "James, James!" he called.
"Blimely, Sirius! It's bloody 2 o'clock in the morning! What happened? You look like hell." His voice was really hoarse, and he had tear tracks on his face. A bruise was forming from where his mother had slapped him. His hair lay lank and matted. As James had said, he looked like hell.
"Something, something happened. I need to get out of here," he said, his voice cracking.
"Then come on over! What are you waiting for, the grass to grow?"
"Possibly."
Sirius looked over at his trunk, it would only take a few minutes to finish packing, and then he could leave forever and never come back. His brain was only slightly working. Socks, shoes, books, broom. Pictures, clothes, slippers, gloves. It was a mental checklist. Slowly, he packed up everything into his trunk and rucksack. With his broom at hand, he walked through the halls of that god-forsaken place until he reached the door. "One more step," he thought "then I'm free."
Once he was out of 12 Grimmuald Place, he felt as if a huge burden was lifted off his shoulders. He was free! He mounted his broom and flew to James's house on the outskirts of London.
"Sirius, are you alright?" James asked as he ushered him into his room. "Sirius, what's wrong, talk to me you fool!"
"James, please just let me sleep," begged Sirius. "God, I just want to sleep in peace."
James let him sleep on his bed, while James slept on the floor. In the morning he tried to pry the information out of Sirius, but found out nothing.