Pride
Remus was worn out. Relocating the pack (his pack… he still wasn't used to that…) after Greyback's death was no easy task. Four weeks of traveling (on foot!) to the new holdings. He sighed and leaned against a poplar on the edge of the makeshift camp. So much left to do, making the camp permanent, outlining the territory, scouting out any other nearby colonies…
A cool hand clasped his own calloused one. Severus gave him a small smile.
"Well done. You should be proud."
Remus looked around: families settling down, children running underfoot... and he smiled, worries forgotten.
"I am."
~*~
Pain made things simple. With silver burning in his chest, Remus' world shrank to two feelings: agony and how to stop it.
So when he felt cold fingers brush blood-matted hair from his face, and a wide palm pressed against his own, trying to stop the blood, he didn't flinch away. And when strong arms lifted him from the ground he didn't try to claim he could walk on his own. Instead he reached out desperately, grasping the robes in front of him, now slick with his blood, and left his pride on the stained earth of the school grounds.
He's exhausted, but his body refuses to sleep any longer. The blackness is fading, as is, miraculously, the pain. Remus wakes up in a clean white bed, swathed in bandages, to find his mysterious rescuer asleep in a chair by his side. He stares a moment, taking in his dark hair, the warm flickering shadows from the fire across his pale complexion, and the strange absence of a scowl on his sleeping face. A smile crosses Remus' lips, and he decides that his pride can stay right where he left it, as long as Severus stays right where he is.