A/N: I don't own these characters, obviously. Also, thanks to Lana Del Rey for the inspiration, and that's where the title comes from. Also thanks to my golden trio, Jasmin and Beatrice, for a year of friendship. You are the Prongs and Moony to my Padfoot and I love you both dearly. This one is for you both.

After one week home for summer after Sirius's fifth year at Hogwarts, he was growing reckless. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more he realised that it didn't even take a full day to become irritated, even though his parents mostly left him alone to unpack. He flopped onto his bed and sighed. Being here was not being home. Home was Hogwarts, with James, Remus, and Peter. This was his own version of hell.

He missed his friends, and he missed the castle. He even missed going to class. As a kid, he had Regulus when he came home, but he knew, even after his first year, that things would be different since he had been placed in Gryffindor. Now Regulus barely even spoke to him. His parents didn't like the way he dressed, they didn't like his friends, they didn't like how messy his room was, and how it smelled like pot and incense.

"It smells like a dead prostitute in there," Regulus said the first night as he made his way to his room. He had scowled. Sirius tried not to let it sting. The comment itself did not bother him, but how his brother had been acting.

It was too hot, and Sirius felt suffocated. He wanted to make it through the first night before sending out an SOS owl to his friends.

After one week home, he did not know how he could bare the cruel and snide comments, the sneering, the subtle, and not so subtle, hints that he was not good enough, not wanted. Never enough. He put off an air that it did not bother him, but it did. He tried to become untouchable, but it only ever worked when he was gone and could just pretend he was a Potter.

James owled him after eight days of misery. "Mum and Dad said they miss their other son, so I'm coming to get you tonight. Just sneak out."

He didn't know why, but the gesture made him cry. He hated himself for feeling like his friends always had to rescue him, and for starting to cry. He wiped the few tears away and spent the rest of the day locked in his room.

The worst way to hurt someone is indifference. Sirius preferred the yelling that was common, but the worst parts were when they just treated him like he was as invisible as he felt. His room became his jail cell. The pictures of the bikini clad muggles didn't cheer him up, nor did the bright Gryffindor banners that he had hung up after first year.

At ten PM, Sirius left his jail cell for the last time that summer. Eight days. It had been a new record. The first year, he had spent all of the summer at home, except for the last week, when he had spent it with the Potters. Every summer after, he spent it shuffled between the Marauders, usually at the Potters' house the most. He tried to stay at "home" as long as he could, but each summer, the time at home decreased, and it had gotten to the point where he didn't even have to say he was leaving.

There was a light on in the library, so he went to go turn it off, thinking that someone had just been careless and forgot to turn it off. He found his father, Orion Black, sitting on the leather chair with the Daily Prophet, smoking a cigar and drinking scotch. He did not look up.

"Sorry, thought someone forgot to turn the light off." He turned to leave again.

"Leaving already?"

"Yeah. James is meeting me." He lingered, waiting to be yelled at, or for whatever rude comment his father surely had.

None came.

The silence cut him. He didn't even look up. He didn't even care. His chest tightened, and he was close to tears again, which made him feel even shittier, if that were possible.

Sirius walked out and tried to never look back.

James was waiting at the end of the road. "Where's your trunk?" He noticed the hollowness.

"Hmm?"

"Your trunk." He repeated slowly, "you can't just use all my shit all summer."

"Oh, yeah. Fuck. I'll go get it."

"Let me help you. Or would that just cause more problems?"

"No, they don't give a fuck. I don't even have to tell them I'm leaving these days. They just expect it. But we should probably keep quiet, the less shit I have to deal with, the better."

Back in Sirius's room, James helped Sirius throw his belongings into his school trunk in a fashion that would make Remus's head spin. They did not talk much. Sirius kept checking the door, waiting for someone to come in.

"Sometimes, I think I want to be stopped from leaving. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm fucking glad to leave. But sometimes I wish that they would just care enough to ask me to stay."

James paused for a second, not quite sure what to say. He had known that Sirius's home life was less than ideal, but this was one of the first times that he had seen just how badly things had gotten, how badly it was affecting his best mate.

"If they did ask, would you?"

"Stay?"

James nodded.

"Sometimes, I think I would, for Reg. But he's gone already and I can't save him."

James attempted to change the subject. "You know, tomorrow, I'm sure we can get everyone together and go to the pub. That'd be fun."

"Anything involving liquor and I'm there." He threw the last of his shirts into the trunk and slammed it shut.

As expected, Mr. and Mrs. Potter were thrilled to see Sirius when he dragged himself out of bed at one in the afternoon.

"Sometimes I think you're more excited to see him over me." It was a joke, but James's mother gave him the look that said don't. Sirius didn't notice.

The first week or so away from home was always hard on Sirius. He was melancholy, out of touch with reality, difficult to talk to, absorbed in his own thoughts. They expected this. They did not expect it to last most of the summer.