With a groan, Remus opened his eyes on the floor of the shrieking shack. Sirius was right there beside him, ready with a blanket and his wand for any quick-fix bumps or scrapes. This was their routine for years, only now, Remus wasn't covered in his own blood.
He had a good few cuts on his right upper arm from the transformation back and a nail sticking out of the floor, but it was nothing awful. Nothing Sirius couldn't fix with a magically-conjured bandage and a kiss.
They sat on the floor while Sirius gently wrapped Remus' arm. He always knew just what to do. He was never too rough, but he wasn't scared to help.
They both knew there was no use trying to heal it magically, as the damage had been done while in wolf form. In other words, he had to heal it the muggle way.
He always had. The only good the odd 'episky' would do was an hour's slowed bleeding for something really bad. Other than that, he was at the mercy of an extra-strenth potion and his own body's mercy.
"How we feeling, mon beau?" Sirius always pulled out the french when he was nervous, which was often around the full moon. Remus wondered if he even knew he'd said it. He didn't mind.
"Ah, just fine, annwyl. If you could be so kind-" Sirius took his outstretched hand and helped him up. Remus swayed on his feet. Sirius stood solid, arms ready to catch the man should he fall. Remus just leaned on him with a grip on his shoulder until the dizziness passed.
"So? What do you say about the potion? Did it actually help? You seemed more like yourself, I'll be honest. You seemed tired and-"
"Sirius, please," Remus had a pleading look on his face, "I just-" he struggled to find the right words,
"Don't want to talk about it now?"
He nodded, thankful,
"No worries, love. Let's just get you out of here, yeah?"
Remus nodded again, and they started down the rickety staircase to the hole in the ground that led them back to Hogwarts.
When they finally got back to their quarters, they both collapsed onto the bed without hesitation. No teeth were brushed, and no shits were given. It was early Saturday morning, about seven o'clock, and they planned on sleeping until Monday, if no one disturbed them.
Sirius woke up only a few hours later at about nine AM. The sun was streaming in through the blinds, as neither of them had the energy or thought to close them when they'd gotten upstairs. He normally would have slept in further, had he not been woken up.
Remus was talking in his sleep. Or, more accurately, muttering agitatedly in his sleep. Sirius shook him awake, and he opened his eyes with a rough gasp.
"What happened, my love? You were having a nightmare." Remus wanted to say nothing, that he was alright, that the potion had worked, and all was well, and he was saved at last from his lifelong affliction, but he just couldn't lie to Sirius. Not anymore.
"The...uh-the full last night. I just-"
"Was it that blasted potion? I knew we shouldn't trust that bastard. I'll-"
"No, not exactly. The potion worked fine. It does what it says on the tin. One keeps his mind throughout the night and for the changes to and from a wolf form but-"
"But one isn't used to being awake for the whole thing? And one may find himself rattled at remembering the whole experience of changing back and forth entirely?"
"Precisely."
Remus often used the impersonal 'one' when talking about his own affliction. It helped him express his feelings, and when applicable, Sirius tried to fill in the blanks so he might not have to admit out loud that he was struggling. Remus was odd in that way, Sirius always thought, he didn't see it as a flaw, but he had been raised differently, Sirius supposed.
"Do you want to talk about it? Or just try to forget it?" Remus rarely wanted to talk about his feelings, his problems. He felt it put more burden on Sirius than he already had. He didn't know, of course, that helping him was no burden to Sirius, and that he was happy to do it if it meant he could ease his pain. Neither of them had ever said this out loud, though.
Remus just shook his head, "I'd rather just put it behind us. It's just going to be more of the same, now, so better not dwell. The potion really did help."
Classic Remus, Sirius thought with a sad smile as Remus closed his eyes to sleep some more, of course he doesn't want to talk to me
Sirius put a loving arm around Remus' shoulders and they both fell into a vaguely uneasy sleep again.
Sirius woke up first at around eleven AM. His body wouldn't let him sleep any later. It had been this way since he was a kid. On nights like these, he was always the first of the group awake.
Normally, he would get out of bed and dick around until someone else woke up and he could chat quietly with them. The next person was usually Peter, believe it or not, to wake up after him.
The thought of Peter made Sirius get out of bed and start planning his flying lessons for the week. He couldn't stand the thought of Peter. He neither knew nor cared where he was, whether or not he was alive. Sirius tried to put the thought of him completely out of his mind.
He left his lesson plans half-finished and started drafting a letter to James and Lily. He had to look back at an older letter to find their new address, but was grateful for a moment to have an address for them. They were no longer in hiding, and he could proudly write on the envelope their address and 'the Potter family, from Sirius.'
He didn't write them often, but the brotherhood was still there. The words flowed through his quill about all manner of things. The weather, Harry's apparent social life, his and Remus' new posts at Hogwarts, quidditch news, how he missed talking to them, how Remus spoke of them often. He wrote for hours, and waited to send it in case Remus had something to add. He often found his letters marked up with red ink like in a muggle school correcting his grammar, spelling, and word choice. One time, he found a letter to Dumbledore with a grade that read 'C-, I'm quite surprised at this one, Mr. Black.' Of course, Remus always wrote them in erasable ink that could be blown off the paper with the wave of a wand, and it was mostly a joke, but at times Sirius had changed a phrase or two at the suggestion of the little red dashes on the parchment.
Remus woke up around three PM. He hated waking up in the afternoon. He felt like the day had been wasted. That being said, he'd needed the rest. And he also didn't want to be awake to remember the night before, or waking Sirius up far too early and 'troubling him so unnecessarily' as Remus put it to himself.
When Sirius noticed he was awake, he put down the latest edition of some quidditch journal and removed his reading glasses with a smile,
"Good morning, sleeping beauty. How we feeling?" Sirius teased, but they both knew he would never hold lying in after the moon against Remus.
"Well, thank you. Holding up alright, yourself?" Remus started to push himself up in bed, only then remembering the gashes in his arm from the night before. Before he could hurt himself, Sirius all but floated over and wordlessly helped him. They never had to say it, but Sirius was always so tender with helping Remus, because he knew how much the other man hated accepting help—from anyone.
"Want to talk about it?"
"Not in the slightest. Not now, at least."
"Alright, then. I love you."
They passed the rest of the day in restful peace, doing separate things—lesson plans, reading—but very much in love all the same.