"Tonks."
Her eyelids twitched.
"Tonks." Remus gently shook her shoulder. Nothing. He shook less gently. "Nymphadora."
She jerked and her eyes flew open. "Whazzah…?"
Bleary-eyed drunk wasn't a good look on anyone, and yet…how could anyone be so…
Tonks focused on him and relaxed back down. "Remus."
Alcohol-laced or not, her smile erased that thought and a few others along with it. He cleared his throat. "Here. Drink this."
Instead of taking the vial he held out, she closed her eyes and curled up on her side. "Bedtime story."
"What?"
"Nice voice," she yawned into her pillow. "Even when you're yelling at me."
"I don't…what?"
"Shouldn' be allowed to have such a sexy voice." Her own voice was almost too soft to distinguish the words.
There were only so many times a person could say "what" before sounding foolish, so Remus bit back the multiple "what"s trying to fight their way out.
"Nymphadora," he said instead. She'd had far more to drink than Sirius had let on. "Sit up and take this."
"Bossy," she scrunched up her face. "Stop-"
"Only if you take this right now," he insisted.
"Ugh. Stomach. Fine, give it here."
He caught the hand she was blindly groping around with and helped her upright, guiding the vial to her mouth before she spilled it everywhere. She downed the contents with a gag and a little moue of distaste.
"Are you always like this when you drink?"
"Usually," she said on a gasp.
Hangover potions tended to work quickly, and this one was no different, but as it took effect her whole body shuddered and then abruptly she collapsed, flopping onto her back.
"Bugger, shouldn't have done that," she moaned, shifting in apparent pain.
"What's wrong?" he leaned over her, concerned. "Are you all right?"
"Fine," she answered through clenched teeth. "Could you…get me something to eat? Might help."
"I'm not leaving you here like-"
"Remus, get me something to eat before I'm sick everywhere."
She wasn't fine, anyone could see that. But as much as he wanted to argue, he knew she wasn't going to tell him like this, and she did sound like she being sick was a real possibility. She didn't open her eyes as he stood and Apparated downstairs.
It only took him a few minutes to put together a tray, rushing around as he was. Barely any time at all. And yet when he appeared back upstairs, Tonks was sitting up in bed, no sign of anything having been wrong.
She practically pounced on the food. "You're a lifesaver, thanks."
He regarded her with undisguised suspicion, although again he kept his mouth shut. With all the things tumbling through his head, most of them guaranteed to cause another fight, he just knew the one that popped out would be the worst one.
"What," she asked around a mouthful of stew. Trying for innocence, he thought, but her tone sounded almost defensive, and her gaze kept shifting away from his.
What's going on? What the hell just happened? What happened this morning? Why are you hiding it? Why won't you tell me anything?
Had she told Sirius about any of this, given how close they seemed to be? Yesterday—even this morning—jealousy would have made him assume the answer to be yes. Now, though…he just wasn't sure about anything. Sirius wasn't the sort to play coy about his lovers, or at least, he never had been before. But who knew how he'd behave now. Besides, the situation here at headquarters was different. They would have to be more circumspect, wouldn't they? And yet…Sirius had seemed so confused. Indignant, even. Neither man had come out and said anything directly, but Remus was…mostly sure…
He shut down the distracting thought for what felt like the hundredth time today.
Moody? No. Remus felt fairly confident that he would have heard about it if Moody knew. And if she hadn't told those two, then she hadn't told anyone, unless…a letter, maybe? Floo? Did she have many friends outside of the Order? What about her family? He hadn't considered how isolated she'd been since the attack.
"Have you been able to speak with your family since you got out of St. Mungo's?" he asked abruptly.
She blinked. "Random. Um, yes. I've talked to Mum and Dad by Floo a couple of times. Why?"
"What about friends?"
"I sent off some notes to a few people so they wouldn't worry about where I'd disappeared to. It's a little awkward having to lie about what happened, so I just…avoid having to talk to anyone. Easier that way," she shrugged, although her expression was a little wistful.
"Are you…lonely?"
She eyed him sideways. "Why all the sudden questions? What's going on?"
That's what I want to know.
He took a deep breath.
"Look. I'm just going to say this, and I want you to hear me out before you say anything. You don't even have to answer if you don't want to." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I know that…something…has happened—is happening—to you. Something is making you ill. Beyond your injuries from the attack."
His heart sank as he watched the effect of his words hit her. She went from mildly wary to looking like a cornered animal. It was a confirmation of sorts, so he pushed on.
"I haven't done anything to make you believe that I'm the right person to confide in. But please…consider it. I'm not a healer. But I am…I think I am…I'm trying to be your friend. And whatever it is, I promise I'll do what I can to help."
She was trembling now, pale to the lips, her eyes wide and full of something he hoped wasn't fear.
"And if not me, then someone. Tell…tell Sirius. Or Moody. Dumbledore."
She began to shake her head.
"Someone! Or go to St. Mungo's and speak to a healer-"
Her head shake grew more emphatic.
At least she's admitting there's something wrong.
She seemed to realize the same thing and fell still.
"Nymphadora," he said softly, reaching out to take her hand. She flinched, then gripped his fingers hard. "You're cut off from almost everyone you could talk to. Would it be so bad to confide in someone here?"
She drew in a shuddering breath. "I can't."
"Can't, or won't?"
She shook her head again.
He looked at her and considered what she wasn't saying.
"Are you saying that you cannot? Are you being compelled to stay silent?"
Stupid question. Chances were, if that were true, she wouldn't be able to answer him directly. Still, she spoke up immediately.
"No, it isn't that. I'm not under any compulsion."
More silence.
"But you're not going to tell me."
She swallowed hard. "I promise to tell you if it gets worse."
"If it gets worse," he repeated.
She nodded.
He spoke slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. "So how bad is it now?"
He watched her bite her lip, look away. Her distress was obvious, but he had no idea how to lessen it, or handle it at all, when he was barely holding his own growing sense of urgency at bay. "Please. Won't you tell me anything?"
She tried to pull her hand away but he wouldn't let her.
"Is it something to do with the nightmares? Are you in pain? Is your back still not healing properly?"
He caught the almost imperceptible flinch. There it was. Or part of it, anyway. "I know about scar healing. Magical wounds don't always heal quickly, I can look and see if-"
"No. It's…" Her voice was thick with tears although her face remained dry. "Remus, I know you mean well, but please, stop, I…I don't want anyone to worry for no reason. I just need time-"
He lost hold of his temper. "Do you even know what's wrong with you? What if you don't have ti-"
She wrenched her hand away. One short sob escaped before she covered her mouth.
Remus swore under his breath as she struggled to regain control. Pushing the tray of food to one side, he held out his arms, wondering if she would accept this small comfort. Wondering if he should offer it.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his heart beating faster.
Somewhat to his surprise, she moved forward, burrowing into the embrace with a heavy sigh. He folded her close. His awareness of the world around him ground to a halt as her breath washed warm over the base of his throat.
For a few miraculous heartbeats he simply sat and held her, the scent of her twining around him. They'd been this close before, but never in a moment of peace like this one. It was…bliss…
Slowly, insidiously, something intruded, piercing the stillness. A sense of wrongness, a malignance that raised the hairs on the back of his neck and woke a distant growling in his mind.
Something about her smell. Almost too faint to notice, something he never would have noticed had they not been sharing space like this. Something wasn't…she was…
Sick. Wrong. Evil.
What in the nine circles of hell?
Instinctive revulsion nearly had him shoving her away. Once he'd pinpointed it, the hint of whatever it was filled his nostrils and made the gorge rise in his throat. Why…what could she have done to cause this? What was it? What was she? This smelled unnatural. Twisted. Peter had smelled something like this. Had they all been completely mistaken about her? How had she fooled Dumbledore? His mind reeled at the implications of what this could mean, what they might have to do-
He didn't think he'd ever felt so heartsick in his life as he did in that moment, facing yet another betrayal from someone he cared for.
But Sirius wasn't a traitor, a voice in his head reminded him. Jumping to conclusions hadn't benefitted any of them in the past.
The pitch of the wolf's growling shifted, enough to break through the misery of his thoughts, and he found that for once, the more primitive nature of his wolf simplified matters. It wasn't her. It wasn't growling at her. Once he focused, it was clear that all of its aggression was directed at this…thing, this wrongness. Something separate. The wolf had roused when it sensed a threat to its claim on her.
Relief made him dizzy. It wasn't her.
His thoughts sharpened at the thought. If it wasn't her, what was it?
As the possibilities began listing themselves in his head, each one worse than the last, he was hard pressed not to demand that she tell him what was going on, right now, everything else be damned. This was the thing making her sick. Did she know what it was, or what it was doing? Her fear and reluctance to tell anyone made more sense now, whether she fully understood what was happening to her or not. He'd been more right than he knew when he said she didn't have time. Meanwhile, everyone else was completely in the dark, and sitting there, breathing in the foulness clinging to her and having to pretend nothing was wrong, was too much to ask of himself.
He bent his head, rubbed his cheek against the silk of her hair with the intention of letting her go. She sighed again, a softer sound that might have been contentment, and the rightness of it, the weight of her in his arms, suddenly seemed so terrible an injustice that for a moment his initial resentment of her flared hotter than it ever had before.
He hadn't asked for any of this. She wasn't for him. She could never be for him. The fleeting glimpse of some impossible happily-ever-after was worse than the worst of his nightmares. Why show him this now? The wolf howled mournfully in his head, and he wanted to join in.
But the feeling quickly burned itself out. Whatever he might feel toward her, he couldn't bring himself to hate her again. She needed a friend. It wasn't her fault that he couldn't manage so simple a thing.
More than a friend, though, she needed help, regardless of how emotionally conflicted he felt toward her otherwise.
He leaned back, or tried to. For a moment it seemed as though she had fallen asleep, but then she pulled away with obvious reluctance, red-eyed and tear-stained.
"Sorry," she said, sniffing a little. She wiped at his robes. "I got you all wet."
"It's all right." In all honesty, he hadn't noticed, preoccupied as he was. "I'm glad you were able to let some of that out."
She rubbed her forehead, frowning.
"Headache?"
"Mmm."
"Eat." He pulled the tray back over and watched as she half-heartedly picked at the food.
"Not hungry?"
Her breath of a laugh sounded forced. "I'm starving, I just don't feel like eating anymore."
"I can take this downstairs and get you something else…"
"No. No, this is fine." She forked up a mouthful and began chewing with no apparent enjoyment. She loved food as she loved almost everything in her life, so it was yet another item to add to the list of things to worry about.
"Tonks," he couldn't stop himself.
She looked up.
"You'll tell me if it gets worse. Promise me again."
She hesitated. "Promise me something first."
"You already said you would!"
"Remus. Please." The frightened look was back on her face.
"I'm sorry. I can't promise you something, not knowing what it is. You don't know how much trouble that's gotten me into before. You're already worried I'm not going to like it, or you wouldn't be asking me like this. So just tell me. I promise I'll try to keep an open mind."
"Then promise you won't tell anyone else."
"Absolutely not." She started to argue and he cut her off. "Think about what you're asking. If our situations were switched, can you honestly tell me that you'd agree to something like that?"
Her face fell.
"Would you?" he pressed.
"No."
"Do you still want to tell me?"
She looked away, silent. Remus found himself holding his breath.
A/N: Thanks for the well wishes! I hope you're all hanging in there too. Say some prayers or think good thoughts for all those suffering in the world right now.