If this started off as a bad day, it's only gotten worse... His back was against the cold stone wall. Defiance. It was all that kept him sane. As long as the Dementors stayed away, he could focus on his identity. His friends. Freedom. Even if he had no reason to believe that these thoughts would ever be anything but dreams of the past...
No. He couldn't think that way. That was what they wanted. To break him. He forced himself to think back on old memories of his friends.
Remus. A pale boy who was everything his family despised. That was what had immediately drawn him to Moony. The fact that they were alike. People with hidden demons trying to be decent humans.
And Peter, who always tagged behind. A miracle they'd ever become friends, they were so different. He knew where Peter was now, yet he couldn't hate him. Peter's voice had kept him alive. He would deal with the betrayal eventually. But for now... it was enough to pretend he had a friend nearby. ... Sirius absently rubbed his left forearm. We all have moments of weakness...
Another memory assailed him. James grinning and saying, as he always did before a prank, "We have a Slytherin problem." Prongs was safe with Lily and Harry. If they'd died, Voldemort would have rubbed his face in it personally.
A cold crept upon him, threatening to steal these memories. THEY were coming. Again. He tried to hold onto thoughts of his godson.
Pain. But not the sort he'd become familiar with. This was pain of the heart, knowledge that you'd hurt someone you loved. He'd seen the look on Harry's face. Saw the scar. And whether or not Harry had wanted him to blame himself, the fact was that Sirius knew it was his own fault... would be... unless his changed something...
His eyes opened hazily. They were gone. Sirius wrapped his too thin arms around his body. He was a shadow of what he'd been. But at least he was a shadow with a soul. That was something they'd NEVER take from him.
Remnants of the vision played at the corners of his mind. Odd how a memory of what might have been was his worst memory. Because that was why he was here now. To change it. To KEEP it as a "might have been."
His pale eyes scanned the cell, stopping on the bars. He was thin now... and weak, and Padfoot was even thinner... Their new game had been to starve him into submission.
"Well, that wasn't the best idea they've ever had..." Sirius whispered in his soft, cracking voice. His eyes hardened with determination, as he drew from the few reserves he had left.
One other thing he remembered since the Dementors had left. Something had happened to HIM, to Sirius, that had hurt this other Harry. Maybe, it wasn't enough to just not break. Maybe he needed to go a step further.
To escape...
Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Please review. Please read Robin4's stuff if you haven't already. And if you ARE Robin4, and you don't want me posting drabbles for your story here, please just let me know, and I'll pull it immediately, okay? Thanks!