Hello again, guys. So... this is just a short one-shot about what's going through Sirius's mind as he's being taken away from askaban: who all he's going to miss, what he most regrets.

"His sentence is a lifetime in askaban."

Sirius barely had time to register the words before three pairs of strong, able hands gripped his shoulders and began steering him out of the courtroom. He fought against them instinctively, but felt no true urge to escape. He couldn't escape. He couldn't get rid of this kind of misery. Did it really matter where he suffered it?

The din of the many voices as they made to leave the courtroom sounded distant to his ears. He knew that they were all probably discussing his hearing, shocked by the outcome of what had happened. How could Sirius Black, the most loved and closest friend of the Potters, be responsible for their murder? Surely it wasn't true.

But it was.

Oh, not in the way people would assume. Sirius hadn't spoken the curse that killed James and Lily, that sentenced Harry to a childhood of muggle-filled abuse at the hands of Lily's sister. He hadn't even told Voldimort where they were hiding, as everyone thought. Sirius was no Death Eater. In that respect, at least, he was innocent.

But Sirius was still to blame. It had been his idea for James to make Peter the secret keeper. It had made so much sense at the time. Why would anyone think to ask the quiet, fumbling Peter about their whereabouts when Sirius was so obviously the more trusted?

If only he'd realized. Peter had always been a terrible liar. He'd been quiet during the meetings, reluctant to visit the Logbottoms in St. Mugo's. Nervous around Remus and Sirius and James, his three best friends since their first year at Hogwarts. Sirius had just thought it was because of his fear. He'd always been more weak willed than the rest of them. Naturally the war would take more of a toll on him than the others.

He never thought Peter would have been this cowardly.

If only he had, his best friends--his family--would still be alive today.

His heart throbbed in his chest, but that felt just as distant as the muffled voices in his ears, as the rough way he was steered out of sight. He was a murderer. He did deserve askaban. James was dead because of him.

Just as Peter was alive.

He tasted bloodlust in his mouth. Sirius was already more or less a killer. Why shouldn't he do it again? To somebody who actually had it coming to them? Peter deserved it. Anybody who would deliberately harm to people as kind and as loyal as James and Lily should pay with their lives.

His fury shook him all over, just as it had that day in the alley. It was the only emotion Sirius had felt since the deaths that overrode his shock. If he hadn't hesitated that one second…Peter would be rotting in hell.

But he had. He'd hesitated because for just a split second, he'd seen in Peter the best friend he'd loved, who adored James and who cooed over little Harry and who would surely do anything for them.

And then Peter had killed thirteen muggles and cut off his finger, disappearing with into the sewer and framing Sirius for everything.

"Sirius."

One small, trembling voice brought Sirius back to reality. It sliced through the shock and the anger, breaking through the wall he had built around himself. Suddenly, he could feel the pain in his arms as Aurors dragged him down the large empty hall, the noises their feet made as he was moved onward. There were no longer any people.

Just the one girl.

Sirius stared at her and felt his knees go weak. She looked so small, so vulnerable, standing there all alone with nobody to protect her.

He saw the tears in her eyes, sparkling like diamonds and felt his own eyes start to prick. He hadn't cried yet, and it didn't surprise him that seeing her would be what finally cause him to break down. He hadn't seen her since the night James and Lily had died. He had closed himself off from her, not wanting her to see the ugliness in him as he realized who had betrayed them. He didn't want her to know until she absolutely had to. The truth would cause her pain, and he'd always gone to unbelievable lengths to avoid that.

But now, as he drank in the betrayal in her trusting green eyes, the quivering in her bottom lip, he knew that nothing could have hurt her as this had. As he had.

His heart shattered.

"Destiny," he whispered her name brokenly, fighting jerkily against the hands that restrained him. He needed to hold her. He needed her scent, her love. To know that there was a chance things might be okay.

But the Aurors held him back, forcing him farther away from her. She followed, taking two steps forward sort of shakily, like if she moved too suddenly she would fall apart. He understood that. He'd been feeling that way for weeks now. "Sirius," she said again, her voice strangled with tears and tinged with desperation. "Did you... do this?"

One of the aurors suddenly stepped away from Sirius and jerked her by the upper arm, yanking her back. "Stay away from him," he commanded. "He's mentally unstable."

Sirius supposed he couldn't really disagree. But the harshness in his voice, the way he handled her, brought the fury back. The bloodlust back. He felt the overwhelming urge to protect and to shield, and he struggled harder.

Of course it did no good. The aurors held him tight. Destiny stared at him, her expression brokenhearted, her eyes still hurt and bewildered.

Behind him, he heard a door open, and he felt a cold gust of air. So they were leading him outside, then. Perhaps once there they would perform side along apparition and take him to askaban.

He'd never see her again. He'd rot away in askaban while she went on with her life, slowly letting go of the life she had once planned with him. Despite her small physique, Sirius knew that Destiny was strong. It may take awhile, but he knew she would make it through this. With the help of God and her brothers, she would mend.

And he wanted nothing less for her.

But Sirius was selfish beyond all reason, and he knew what would come with that. She'd stop wearing his ring. She'd see other people.

She'd stop loving him.

Just thinking the words jarred him, knocking against his bones. He felt the tension in his veins, the tightening of his chest, the weakness swimming in his eyes. It was the essence of pain. He struggled against the bodies that had him again, but it was useless.

"No!" Destiny was saying. The only sound that could have reached him in that instant. She pushed uselessly at the man."I need-to talk to him-"

But Sirius knew they wouldn't let her get any closer. They thought he was dangerous to her.

The thought of intentionally hurting her was so ludicrous to him that he laughed out loud.

Destiny's eyes widened, and she stopped struggling for an instant and just stared at him, shocked. He realized too late that only a crazy person would laugh at a time like this.

"Lattie," Sirius said, finding his voice and trying to keep it even even. His life was over; there was nothing he could do to repair what damage had been done. But she needed to know the truth, at least the part that mattered. "I love you."

Her reaction stabbed Sirius like a blade to the chest.

The tears in her eyes spilled over, and she slumped against the man's chest, crying silently. And Sirius did go a little crazy, watching her and able to do nothing. He had never seen her this alone before. The auror, not looking quite sure what to do, wrapped his arms hesitantly around her and whispered something in her ear.

Through the agony, envy sliced at his soul. After all that had happened, he was still so jealous with her that it was nearly unbearable.

He wasn't going to live through this with his sanity still intact. James was gone, Lily was gone. Harry would grow up in a bubble, and once that bubble popped, he'd want Sirius dead. Destiny was already closing herself to him. She didn't believe what he said, he could see it in her eyes. It didn't matter how badly he needed her. It didn't matter that he saw her face every time he closed his eyes, or that sometimes he loved her so much that he thought he would burst.

He was going to live in the domain of Dementors, where these thoughts would replay over and over again in his head, salt on his wounds. He'd spend his days praying for justice. Justice would not come. He'd spend his nights wishing he could see Lattie just one more time. She would not come either.

The torture was nothing less than he deserved.