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Remus began to stir as the dawn rose, the sun causing him to wince as he opened his eyes.
He groaned, burying his face further into his pillow, every single muscle in his body screaming out in protest. He gingerly moved one leg, and then the other, testing them out as he always did after such a night, as if he had to reassure himself that he was human again.
The rusty tang of copper lingered on his lips when he wet them, and he froze, placing the taste.
He reached out a hand blindly, scrabbling on the nightstand for his wand - it wasn’t there.
He came alert then, moving quickly despite the pain, and sat up, his eyes sore as they adjusted to the light. He stood too quickly, swaying for a moment, and then stumbled towards the bathroom.
The light was bright in there, and he cringed before working up the courage to lift his head and look into the mirror.
He stared in horror at the dried blood caking his mouth, crusting along his jaw, and tore his gaze away from his own before he could fully register the rest.
He turned on the taps, cupping handfuls of water, pouring them over himself in a seemingly-futile effort to rid himself of the blood.
“Remus.”
He froze, then spun around, his hand raised as if to strike, banging his hip against the sink.
“Careful.”
Severus reached out to steady him, ignoring his curses, and Remus finally looked up into his face.
“Did I…?” he asked desperately, gesturing at himself, at the blood he knew wasn’t his.
“Yes.” Severus held his arm and helped him back to the bedroom, guiding him to sit back down on his bed.
Remus nodded numbly, digesting it like rotten meat, his stomach flipping over in disgust.
“Is…he…?”
“He’s not dead. Potter’s with him.”
“Shouldn’t you be there too?” Remus asked, looking back up.
“I made sure he was stable. I needed to come back here to give you a healing potion.”
Remus wet his lips again, hating the taste. “You’re a good friend,” he mumbled.
Severus snorted, dismissing the compliment. “We all do what we must.”
“You don’t hate me?”
Severus paused at that, and seconds ticked by, forcing a millstone around Remus’s neck.
“How can I hate you for following your instincts?” Severus finally supplied, providing him with the truth neither of them quite believed.
Remus rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers brushing over all of his scars. “I hate it. I hate that I did this. To him. And to you.”
Severus stiffened at that, staring down at him. “Here is your wand,” he replied, tossing it down on the bed next to him. “I’ll let myself out.”
He groaned, burying his face further into his pillow, every single muscle in his body screaming out in protest. He gingerly moved one leg, and then the other, testing them out as he always did after such a night, as if he had to reassure himself that he was human again.
The rusty tang of copper lingered on his lips when he wet them, and he froze, placing the taste.
He reached out a hand blindly, scrabbling on the nightstand for his wand - it wasn’t there.
He came alert then, moving quickly despite the pain, and sat up, his eyes sore as they adjusted to the light. He stood too quickly, swaying for a moment, and then stumbled towards the bathroom.
The light was bright in there, and he cringed before working up the courage to lift his head and look into the mirror.
He stared in horror at the dried blood caking his mouth, crusting along his jaw, and tore his gaze away from his own before he could fully register the rest.
He turned on the taps, cupping handfuls of water, pouring them over himself in a seemingly-futile effort to rid himself of the blood.
“Remus.”
He froze, then spun around, his hand raised as if to strike, banging his hip against the sink.
“Careful.”
Severus reached out to steady him, ignoring his curses, and Remus finally looked up into his face.
“Did I…?” he asked desperately, gesturing at himself, at the blood he knew wasn’t his.
“Yes.” Severus held his arm and helped him back to the bedroom, guiding him to sit back down on his bed.
Remus nodded numbly, digesting it like rotten meat, his stomach flipping over in disgust.
“Is…he…?”
“He’s not dead. Potter’s with him.”
“Shouldn’t you be there too?” Remus asked, looking back up.
“I made sure he was stable. I needed to come back here to give you a healing potion.”
Remus wet his lips again, hating the taste. “You’re a good friend,” he mumbled.
Severus snorted, dismissing the compliment. “We all do what we must.”
“You don’t hate me?”
Severus paused at that, and seconds ticked by, forcing a millstone around Remus’s neck.
“How can I hate you for following your instincts?” Severus finally supplied, providing him with the truth neither of them quite believed.
Remus rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers brushing over all of his scars. “I hate it. I hate that I did this. To him. And to you.”
Severus stiffened at that, staring down at him. “Here is your wand,” he replied, tossing it down on the bed next to him. “I’ll let myself out.”