SIRIUS BLACK had long lost the track of time as he wasted away in his cells. The rumours of Azkaban were true, there was no need for bars on the cells, towering walls, or violent waters to keep from escaping. Sirius had lost his will to do much in the passing days. In the beginning, he kept count of what he believed were days passing by, but it was always so dark, he couldn't tell when morning came. His only clue was the feeding time of the dementors. They came twice a day but even then the events seemed to just roll into one after a while.

In short, Sirius simply didn't see the point in living anymore, he wanted to die.

Every bit of happiness he had ever felt was stolen from him with every feeding of the dementors. And he didn't have the ability to create new, happier memories to survive. He could feel his body wasting away, but his mind was deteriorating at a fast rate. He wanted to die so that he didn't have to suffer anymore.

Fate had played Sirius a cruel card. Growing up in a family that would come to loathe him and later on, disown him. Then to find happiness among friends and a lover, only to have it all taken away from him in a blink of an eye.

Coming home to find his newlywed husband missing, Sirius could feel the blood in his veins run cold. Charlus was nowhere to be seen and judging by the disorder of the home, there had been an obvious struggle. There was no point in calling out Charlus' name, even if he was alert somewhere, he wouldn't be able to hear it. And just as Sirius was preparing to leave in search, an Auror arrived with some grave news.

Charlus Potter was at St Mungo's, barely holding onto his life.

Sirius didn't remember much after that moment, except being at Charlus' bedside, pleading that he keep fighting and make it through. He fell to his knees, begging the Healer in charge to save Charlus by any means necessary. Whatever they needed he would provide, money wouldn't be an issue. He didn't want to leave Charlus' side, but he knew he had to be the one to tell James what happened.

From that point on, everything spiralled out of control. Without Charlus there to boost his spirits, Sirius didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't have James to talk to, he and Remus weren't on speaking terms, and he hadn't even bothered with Peter, even though he should have.

He should have seen all the signs of Peter's betrayal to the Order. The way Peter had distanced himself from everyone during crucial moments, it should have been obvious. But who would suspect little Peter? And when it all finally became clear that it was Peter, it was too late. James and Lily were already dead, and even if Voldemort was gone, it was no time to celebrate.

Sirius was already a broken man from seeing his husband struggling to live every day and then to hold onto James' cold dead body in his arms, he could feel his heart shattering into irreparable fragments. Without ever experiencing a dementor, Sirius knew what it felt like to suddenly lose every bit of hope and happiness. All he was left with was hurt, anger, and the need for revenge.

And as if fate hadn't allowed him to suffer enough, she had one last trick up her sleeve for Sirius. He had been able to confront Peter, fully prepared to bring him down and bring the traitor of the Order to justice, and it all backfired.

Literally.

He hadn't been prepared for the explosion, even though he should have seen it coming. Sirius knew that Peter would use any means to escape after being confronted. Why would a traitor take a fall after being responsible for the death of his friends? Clearly, Peter had disregarded his friendship with all of them long before the confrontation. When the explosion happened, Sirius was knocked back and when he looked up, Peter was gone.

All that was left was a finger, along with dead bodies that littered the ground around Sirius. Horror washed over him and then, he suddenly felt numb. He couldn't hear or feel anything around him which terrified him. He tried to scream, he tried to cry, but neither happened.

The only thing left to do was laugh.

Because life had played the biggest joke on him, making him believe that he deserved happiness.

Sirius liked to think that when he died, he would be reunited with those he cared about. When Bellatrix had been brought to Azkaban, he had felt some sort of justice because even if he had to rot near her, at least she wasn't wreaking havoc on the innocent anymore. But Bellatrix decided to get one last jab in. As she passed, she sang it loud and clear that Charlus had died. She sang it day and night until they moved her cell to a different part of the prison but saying it once had been enough.

He had prayed with all of his might that Charlus to pull through, but since he didn't, Sirius was just glad that his beloved wasn't suffering anymore.

He liked to think that as soon as Charlus passed on, that James and Lily were right there, waiting for him. Along with them was Fleamont and Euphemia, happy to have their family reunited once more. They had all been through so many hardships, they deserved a peaceful afterlife. But even as Sirius tried to form some happiness, he was reminded that he was all alone. 

Never again would he cuddle up with Charlus on a cold night or share in a laugh with James.

And it only made things worse when Sirius realised he never got to say a proper goodbye to either one of them.

There were bars on one side of the cell, but none on the small window that overlooked the waters. It was a useless window, nothing scenic to look at, no one was able to apparate or disapparate on the island, and it was the hole that allowed the dementors to come and go as they pleased during and after their feedings. But it was big enough that Sirius debated several times to crawl through it and fall to his death.

There was no way he could survive the fall, magic or not. And it would be a quick death, as soon as he hit the ground, he would be surrounded by his loved once more. It certainly sounded better than spending day after day, fearfully anticipating the next time a dementor would arrive in his cell.

But every time Sirius approached the window, a little voice at the back of his mind begged him to stop. Telling him to just hold on a little longer and everything would eventually be okay. It was what was left of the hope he carried. Every day it grew fainter, and as of late, Sirius didn't hear it at all.

Slowly, pushing himself up, Sirius approached the window and looked outside. Nothing had changed, the same depressing scenery greeted him. He could see some dementors lurking nearby in the skies but down below, only rested an assortment of jagged rocks. Hoisting his body up, half of his body remained in the cell, while the rest hung outside the window. How easy it was to fit in the small opening, made it clear just how much he had lost weight since arriving.

He was sickly looking, a far cry from the aristocratic look of health he carried before the war. In the afterlife, he hoped he looked as he once did. He remembered how many times Charlus complimented on how handsome he looked even if it was to just get Sirius to blush.

Would Charlus, James, Lily, Fleamont, and Euphemia be happy to see him again? Or would they be disappointed in his choices to kill himself? Would Regulus be there? His brother that had been so easily misguided due to their family's belief, to the point where it got him killed when he was seventeen. Would they finally find peace with one another in the afterlife?

So many questions ran through Sirius' mind that he almost didn't hear the sound of his name being called.

But he did hear it and there was no mistaking such a thing, the voice belonged to Charlus. Although it had been such a long time since he had heard it, he could always tell Charlus' voice from others. His speech was different, not just by tone or pitch. Although Charlus had invented spell after spell to help improve his speech and make it easier to communicate with those that weren't deaf, there was just something about Charlus' speech that made his voice stand out. And the way he said Sirius' name was enough to make him weak in the knees as a boy, and melt completely as a young man.

"Sirius?"

Perhaps he could hear Charlus' voice because he was getting closer to death, and like the voice of a siren, it was luring him to actually do it. He started to pull himself further out of the window, especially as he heard commotion behind him.

He figured the dementors wouldn't let him get away so easy, they couldn't feed off of him if he was dead. They were going to try and stop him from going through with his plan.

"Sirius! Sirius! What are you doing?!"

Charlus' voice was only getting closer and Sirius could feel a beat in his heart again to hear his lover's voice.

"Sirius, please stop! What are you doing?"

"I don't want to be alone anymore!" Sirius cried out. " I don't want to be alone! I want to be where you are!"

Before Sirius could go through with his plan, he felt hands grab at his legs, pulling him away from his freedom. He thrashed about like an angry fish out of the water, trying to free himself. He screamed, begging to be released so that he could join Charlus and his loved ones.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

Charlus watched in pure horror as the Auror pulled Sirius from the window and crashed to the ground roughly. Sirius didn't give up his fight either as he fought with all his might to escape the hold around him. And although he looked frail and weak, it only took one punch to finally get the Auror off him. He didn't notice Charlus and Fudge standing in the doorway of his cell, it was almost like he didn't hear Charlus calling out his name.

But as he went for the window once more, Charlus ran inside and grabbed the back of Sirius' tattered shirt, and yanked him back as hard as he could. Sirius fell to the ground with a loud thud but it didn't stop him from jumping up to his feet again to make another attempt. However, Charlus positioned himself in Sirius' path to prevent him from going any further.

Sirius grabbed the front of Charlus' shirt, ready to shove him aside, but as he looked up to make eye contact with the human blockage, he completely froze in place. For seconds, he stood completely still as he thought he was coming face to face with the ghost of his husband. But then he realised his hands were holding onto something and through the fabrics of Charlus' shirt, he felt warmth.

"Ch-Ch-ar...Charlus?"

Charlus lifted up one hand slowly and touched the side of Sirius' face gently.

"Sorry, I'm late."