A/N- Hi there! I started this story almost four years ago, but just recently someone new subscribed and the email I received reminded me that I'd like to edit and finish this story. I've edited this 'Just so fucking unhappy' so far, and am currently working on the rest. I've submitted this as a new story, or else it would be impossible for new readers to find. Unfortunately this means all of the reviews are gone and anyone subscribing to just the story won't be updated; however, I look forward to hearing from new readers. If you have any suggestions or notice any errors feel free to write a review or send me message. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter. Also, there's slash.

Sirius Black stretched and yawned. After two weeks' worth of insomnia he didn't feel well. Obviously, he crashed every now and then for fourteen hours or so, but always on the wrong days, the wrong times. He rearranged the books on his desk and examined the parchment in front of him. He was well past a first attempt at concentration; he could expect his head to keep hurting and his eyes to keep watering. Teachers didn't expect anything anymore, either. It'd shock him how much better they knew him than he did. He sighed, rubbed his aching temples, and ran his fingers through his hair. He wanted to get away- from this desk, this, room, himself. It's just the way he was these days.

After another agonizing thirty-five minutes, Sirius collected his things and decided to make his way back to the Common Room. History of Magic had been his last class that day. James was already at his side complaining: the class had been boring, he was hungry, he wanted to mess with Severus Snape. Of course he did... nothing ever really changed.

"I'm going to get a head start on that essay. Two feet long, can you believe it?" Sirius responded, almost automatically, and although the idea was different, the words didn't sound strange coming from his mouth. He had a way of being able to say the most ridiculous things (deciding against procrastination not exactly being one of them) without sounding irrational or out of the ordinary. It made things easier for him, especially since as of the last few weeks he had been taking off a lot for the same reason although using different excuses.

"Probably a smart move, I'll come with you mate," James gave a serious nod. "I really think I got a 'T' on that last paper. Do you know where Remus was today? He wasn't in class, so we should catch him up and then maybe he could help us."

"I don't think that's a good idea..." Sirius said and trailed off, lost in thought. When James looked at him, puzzled, Sirius continued, "If he was in no state to attend class then I doubt he'd be up to writing our history papers."

"Ah, you're right. I'm starving... do you think I could call it a miss this time? If Remus isn't there I think I'll be completely clueless as to what to write about, anyway."

Sirius was quick to agree, "Yeah, you can glance at mine once I'm done. Later, mate." And as James turned to leave Sirius let out a sigh and pressed his eyes tight. He wanted nothing more than to be alone.

Sirius Black had no intention of sleeping, jerking off, or getting high. He also was not a secret introvert. The boy had sunken into a sort of depression ever since... well, since exactly two weeks and six days ago. He didn't anticipate or even enjoy the time he spent without other people. He was just so fucking unhappy, and he refused to break down or share his misery with others. It was draining to act all the time. Not only did he not want a reputation as a whiny, emotional kid, but he genuinely did not want to burden his friends with his new, pessimistic, philosophies on life.

The hooded teen uttered the password to the Gryffindor Common Room and made his way inside. As expected, the space was mostly empty; only a few students were scattered here and there. Sirius climbed upstairs and entered the sixth year boys' room.

Remus Lupin was lying on his bed. Although Sirius had noticed the boy's absence in class, for some strange reason this was not something he had anticipated. He stopped in his tracks. Sirius considered leaving but after realizing that he had nowhere to go and that Lupin's eyes were closed, he didn't. He remembered there had been a time when Remus' presence had not meant a potential panic attack. After taking a deep breath, he removed his sneakers, put down his things, and went to the boys' restroom.

"It's not supposed to be like this," Remus whispered to himself. He wondered how Sirius had grown to hate him so much. He was not much more aesthetically displeasing than he had been a month ago... how could a mere glance in his direction seemingly now repulse Sirius Black?

In the other room, no one was disgusted with the former boy.

Sirius didn't cry. He hoped himself to be past crying without an immediate cause. He wasn't sad- he was miserable. He wondered how he could have ever laughed at tears or anguish. He wondered if he'd have laughed at another kid in his position. Likely. And, because of it, he made up for it with a hate he had not for Lupin, but himself.

"You asleep, mate?'

"Sirius?"

He kept his eyes shut. He wondered why he hurt so much, but then it came back to him like it always did. He always woke up in pain.
Sirius opened his eyes, but he responded only by giving both Peter and James quick glances of eye contact.

"Bloody hell... are you alright?"

"I'm fine James, really. What time is it?" asked Sirius. He didn't care about the time. Not really. But he needed to get the attention off of himself. He could expect to look horrible. He always did and he'd started to wonder why his friends had only just started to notice. His eyes were always red and he looked rough without shaving. His hair was worse than James' nowadays. How could it take three weeks for his friends to notice that he was a total train wreck?

Probably, they had noticed. Probably, they noticed even though he was never around. Maybe all of the avoidance only stopped them from confronting him, not noticing that something was wrong.

"Pete," asked James.

"Uh, it's two," offered Peter. "Two in the afternoon."

"Why'd you wake me?" He knew why.

"Padfoot, hell you've slept at least nineteen hours. We didn't know-"

"Sorry," he said, scrambling to get up. He threw on his robes and gave the boys a grin. "But, my dear Marauders, I must be off. Gotta talk with Moony. Forgot to ask 'im something."