Sober Thoughts

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"You're drawing circles right where my heart should be."

"Should be? What happened? Did it move?"

"If I had one I mean."

She scowled, "Don't talk like that."

"Sorry. It's the medicine talking I expect."

"Drunk words are sober thoughts so I'm told."

"And who is drunk?"

"No one. But…high on medicine is basically the same thing…I expect."

Still Dora continued to draw her little circles all over Remus' chest—partially out of boredom and partially because she knew the feeling soothed him. Touch did that to him, not in any perverted way but just in a way he hadn't felt during all his years of seclusion. At first it was odd to Remus—being felt and the idea that someone wanted to feel him—but oddity turned into lovely normality and it wasn't long before Remus was in fact returning the favor. Even if it just meant constantly holding his wife's hand and rubbing gently on her thumb. It was contact and it was something he had come to love.

"Try to sleep," Dora cooed, continuing with her circles, "You'll feel better in the morning."

"I won't talk about the pain," Remus replied back, "That's counterproductive, eh?"

"Try not to think about it."

"Can't help it. Damn lycanthropy. Tell me, love, is it still bleeding?"

Dora bit her lip, "I…I don't think so. Mum stitched it up pretty well."

"She said she was having trouble. Could you look at it?"

"I'm sure it's fine."

Remus grinned, "You don't want to look at it, do you?"

"You fell off a twenty foot ledge, Remus, and got a gash the size of a toaster oven!"

"You didn't answer my question."

"No. I don't want to look at it. It's…all…bloody still…"

"But is it bleeding?"

"Can you feel blood trickling down your leg?"

"No."

"Then it's not bleeding."

"But my leg's gone pretty numb."

"What?"

"Yep."

"Oh god!"

"What?"

"Your leg has gone numb?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you're losing blood! What if they have to chop the leg off?"

"If I'm losing blood, I must be bleeding, Dora. Maybe you could check to be sure."

There was a long pause while Dora stared at Remus' covered leg. Even with it bandaged and neatly hidden beneath the bed sheets, she was still terrified to look—the gash ran nearly the whole length of Remus' leg and Dora was sure she had seen bone when she first inspected it. The sight had been both disgusting and terrifying. She glanced over at Remus, lounged in bed and still grinning wickedly at his wife's uneasiness.

"I hate you," Dora whispered.

"That is so not true."

Gingerly Dora scooted off the bed and ran to the other side of it before lifting up the sheet just high enough to take a quick glance at the large bandage. It wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it was going to be.

"It seems like the bleeding has stopped or at least slowed down," she said, hurrying back to her side of the bed and taking her position, seated by her husband, again drawing circles.

"Thank you, love," Remus said, "I could have just looked myself but watching you do it so much more entertaining."

"Of course. Now try to sleep, my pet."

"Your pet?"

Smiling Dora sighed, "It's the medicine talking again. Don't be fretful."

"Who are you? My great-grandmother? Who calls me their pet? I understand I turn into a beast once a month but I do have pride!"

"It's a term of endearment, sugar."

"Now where did that come from? Sugar?"

"It means you're sweet, poppet."

"Now you're just playing with me!"

"Shhhh…" Dora was giggling now as she pressed her hands to Remus' mouth, "Try to sleep. If you toss, it only makes it worse."

"Of course," Remus took her hand and just held it then, running his forefinger along her thumb lovingly. He closed his eyes but continued to grin widely, now holding Dora's hand to his face like it were a stuffed animal. Dora couldn't shake the image of a drunk man as she stared at Remus now though she knew he hadn't had one drink all night. Perhaps the medicine was stronger than she thought and she had thought it pretty strong.

"You'll stay?" Remus asked.

Dora raised an eyebrow, "Where would I go?"

Slowly his eyes flickered open and the smile drained from his face; he was staring off at nothing in particular when he said, "I…I had a lapse right there."

"Did you?"

"Yes. God, this stuff…the pain or the drugs…or both! They're…a lot to deal with…I…I had a lapse of memory right then. I thought…I thought I was back at Hogwarts for a second there."

"Back at Hogwarts? Like…as a student?"

"Yes. James, Sirius, Peter and I used to share a room…obviously…and sometimes late at night…James and I both had trouble sleeping from time to time…so when Peter and Sirius were asleep…we'd sit on the floor or sit on the other's bed and just…I guess…try to bore the other into sleep…I'm sorry, Dora. I thought you were James."

"It's alright."

"You look nothing like James. I must say you're about fifty times prettier."

"It's okay, Remus. Try to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

His eyes were fixed to the ceiling now and he let Dora's hand free so that she might continue in her stroking. When things got quiet, she tried to hum—Dora had never prized herself at being a singer of any kind and quite often she was told to quit it because of her inane knack for going off key. But in the presence of a lover who didn't care about frivolous things like pitch, she did sing or hum a bit and like the touching it calmed Remus. Dora actually thought he had gone to sleep but and then Remus spoke up again.

"He used to sit on the edge of the bed…when were really young and tell me stories. My first year. I was excited to be at Hogwarts but I was terrified also. I'd never been away from home. I felt like such a baby because there I was and I missed my parents and my own bed. I couldn't sleep so James would tell me stories. Crappy stories now that I think about it. It always involved some great wizard…who just happened to be named James or Iago (which is the Spanish equivalent of James) and how he killed this awful beast or did this feat or that. But at the time I enjoyed them. or maybe I just enjoyed the attention which was something James was willing to give. He needed a friend to listen to his crappy stories and I needed a friend. And he'd sit up there on my bed next to me…like you're doing now…and I'd ask him if he was staying…to tell me a story…and he'd look at me, all cocky like and go 'Can't get rid of me that easily.' He was a pill for a while but he was a good friend."

And then Remus went silent—eyes closed and mouth slightly open, he fell asleep. And though she didn't have to, Dora kept drawing her circles.