Prompt: Remus has a nightmare and Tonks snuggles him back to sweeter dreams.
He was on all fours, breathing heavily. His large claws dug into the wet earth; in still silence he waited for his prey. With his snout in the air, he took a sniff. His heart raced with excitement.
His prey was near.
He took off in a run, darting his lithe body around fallen trunks and low-hanging branches. Twigs and leaves fell down on his body. They didn't stay for long; the cool night air whipped everything off as he sprinted through the forest. The intoxicating, mouthwatering scent of his prey pulled him into a frenzy the closer he came to it.
He slowed down, bringing his quick strides down to careful, quiet steps on the wet, leafy undergrowth.
His prey stood in a clearing, where the full moon shone its light upon its face. It was tall, but slight; it would take one calculated leap to pin it down to the ground.
He crouched low, preparing his body for attack. The prey was still; it looked up to the night sky.
He took a leap and pinned his prey down. It screamed, terrified, but he had it pinned down. He clamped his jaw on its neck; he heard the satisfying snap of its neck, the taste of blood on his tongue and teeth, and the sound of its dying, gasping breaths.
He looked at his face, but it was no longer prey. It was Nymphadora.
He gasped, realizing he was no longer on all fours but was on two legs. His hands were covered in her blood; he tasted it in his teeth and on his tongue. She gasped, clutching at what remained of her neck; her eyes glazed over—
"Remus!" Tonks shouted.
He was on the floor of his bedroom at Grimmauld Place. The tattered rug underneath him was drenched in his sweat, as were his boxers and shirt. He was much too hot, and he wheezed, finding he had a hard time breathing. He ripped his shirt off, tossing it across the room, desperate to cool himself off.
"Remus, what's wrong? What happened?" Tonks was out of the bed and on her knees in front of him. She cast a Drying Charm on his boxers and on the rug; he was now cold, clammy, and nauseous. He could still taste the blood, the ripped bits of—
"Get away from me," Remus barked. "Back away!"
"W-what?"
"I'm going to kill you."
"Remus…what are you…"
"I'm a monster," he whispered, horrified at what he'd done in his nightmare. He glanced at his hands. They were scarred, but clean. He ran his tongue around his mouth; nothing but the faint taste of garlic remained from the dinner he'd made earlier.
"No, you're not." Tonks inched closer to him, reaching her hand out to touch him. He flinched, and scurried back on his hands and feet, fearing that if he got any closer, he would hurt her.
"It was a nightmare, Remus. You haven't hurt me. Look at me," Tonks said gently. "Look up, sweetheart, please."
Remus dared to glance at her. In the dim light of his bedroom, he saw her face. It was unblemished, unhurt, and pure. She was too good for the curse that ran through his veins and turned him into a bloodthirsty monster, ready to rip her apart at the first chance.
"You're good, Remus," she said softly. "You would never hurt anyone. You would never hurt me."
Remus clenched his jaw; she hadn't seen what he was capable of in his worst nightmares, which threatened to become his realities the longer he stayed with Tonks.
"Please come back to bed, love. You're good. You're safe."
He took several deep, shuddering breaths. Tonks inched closer, her eyes full of trust and warmth for him. He couldn't understand why she didn't fear him.
She reached a hand out. He closed his eyes, scared that when he opened them, she would be ripped apart.
A small, warm hand was placed over his bare chest, just over his heart.
"Come back to bed."
Remus opened his eyes. Tonks's face was inches from his. She brought another hand up to his cheek and held it tenderly.
"Let me take care of you, Remus."
His heart rate slowed the longer her hands were on his face and heart. He took a few more breaths and allowed her to help him off the floor, until he was sitting at the edge of the bed, exhausted and ashamed.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No."
"Can I hold you?"
Remus exhaled softly and nodded. He laid on his side, facing the door. She laid next to him on her side, with her arm tucked under his so that her hand rested above his heart again. When they were like this, she called him her 'little spoon;' he'd never been someone's little spoon before Nymphadora.
"I love you, Remus," she murmured. "You'll never hurt me. You are good."
"Do you really believe that?" he whispered. She squeezed him tightly and nuzzled her face into his shoulder. He felt her warm breaths on his bare shoulder blade and her soft cheek pressed against his scarred flesh.
"I do." She reached up and kissed his neck, just under his jawline. The scent of her lips on his skin soothed him and he took another shuddering breath.
"Will you think less of me if I want you to hold me a little while longer? Until I…"
"Go back to sleep?" she finished. He nodded against the pillow, waiting for her rejection.
"I would never think less of you. Go to sleep, Remus. I love you."
He closed his eyes and began taking deeper, steadier breaths. He focused on the feeling of her hand on his chest, the delicate scent that enveloped him, and the sound of her own sleepy sighs.
When he finally drifted off into slumber, he dreamt again. This time, however, Nymphadora wasn't his prey - she was his wife.
For the first time in his life, he hoped his dreams became reality.
