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He found himself waking up to the sound of an angel.
Its voice was so light, airy, and calm that he almost could’ve been lulled back to sleep by it. It brought a warmth to his chest that spread across to his arms and down to his legs. It made him feel comforted…it made him feel at peace.
When his eyes first opened, he was met with a glow of light surrounding the individual that had brought him out of his slumber. It was the halo, he assumed, and it was so bright that it was nearly blinding.
Confusion began to set in. What was an angel doing here? He recognized his bed beneath him…the smell of lavender from the candles on the dresser. He knew he was home, so what was an angelic figure doing here? Was he about to be swept away into the afterlife?
“There you are,” The voice said, and he felt a hand on his shoulder that was shaking him gently. “It’s me, my love.”
He recognized the voice then, and he realized that it wasn’t an angel…not technically. But frankly, he couldn’t quite see the difference between an angel and you. When his eyes finally focused, he realized that the “halo” was actually just the sun beaming in through the bedroom window. It spilled past the curtains and painted you with sunlight, making you glow and shine more than you usually did.
He watched you press the back of your hand to his forehead, moving from his temple to the center. A concerned, yet concentrated, look crossed over your features as you felt his skin. He didn’t feel overly warm, which made you feel better to know that the fever must have finally broken. Your hand retreated from his head, your palm resting on his midriff and caressing him through the covers of the bed that he was snuggled in.
He felt relieved to know that it wasn’t dead, and that it was just you waking him up gently. However, that didn’t help his confusion because this wasn’t the norm.
“Can you hear me, Rem?” You asked with the sweetest, most nurturing tone you could produce.
Your expression was neutral, and you had a small, genuine smile on your face. But he could tell you were worried sick – your eyes said it all.
“Yeah.” He nodded, noting how dry his mouth and throat were.
You caught the croak in his voice and reached for the glass of water you had ready to go for him on the nightstand. He needed some assistance with sitting up, which only made him even more confused as to what was happening. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even know what day it was or even what time it was. He would never complain about you doting over him…but he didn’t like seeing you so anxious.
He practically snatched the glass from you, gulping down the glass of water like it was the only thing keeping him alive. He drained the glass, sighing at the feeling of the cool water settling in his system to replenish him.
“I tried to keep you hydrated, but you just couldn’t keep anything down,” You said, reaching for a waste bin you had nearby and setting it next to him. “Just in case you feel like you’ll be sick again.”
Remus wasn’t even aware he had been sick. He didn’t remember being sick. Obviously whatever was going on and whatever had happened – he didn’t remember any of it, and it was shaking you up.
That was when he noticed the array on his bedside table. A pitcher of water, empty potion vials, damp wash rags. Clearly, it had been one rough wave of sickness.
When he didn’t respond, you went on.
“How are you, Rem?” You asked with the sweetest, most nurturing tone you could produce.
His muscles were aching something awful. They felt like they were on fire when he shifted on the mattress – his core burning as he tried to get comfortable again. He tried to piece everything together…but none of it was making sense or ringing any bells.
“Lousy,” He groaned. “I feel sore.”
“I’m sorry,” You pressed a sympathetic kiss to his forehead. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You were all tensed up.”
A blank expression covered the man’s face. The lost look in his eyes was a telltale sign that he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about. The last thing he remembered was going to bed Friday night…and the next thing he knew he was being woken up by you. It must’ve been Saturday morning
“Was…I sick last night?” He asked, swallowing hard.
“Rem, you’ve been sick the last few days. It’s Tuesday,” You said, and Remus’ heart dropped into his stomach. “You don’t remember?”
He blinked in surprise. He had been sick for three days and had no knowledge of it? Not a single stitch of memory of the last few days?
“No,” He managed to give a small chuckle, despite the pounding in his chest. “I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
He regretted telling you that the moment he said it. The way your face fell and filled with even more anxiety made his heart hurt. He wasn’t sure what he had said or done in the last few days to shake you up so bad.
“Oh, Rem. You’ve been so sick the last few days,” You said. “It came out of nowhere. You seemed okay, but then I woke up during the night and you were sweating and shaking,”
Remus was listening to every word. He was finally beginning to make sense of what you were saying…of what actually happened.
“The fever was really beginning to scare me, but it finally broke early this morning.” You said. “I thought maybe it was the flu but-” Your pause was sharp.
It was so quick that he knew it was you refraining from saying what you were thinking. You didn’t even have to say it for Remus to know what you were thinking though…because he was thinking it too.
“It was the moon.” He stated.
You held your lip slightly between your teeth, chewing on it as your brain scrambled for something to say. What could you say? How could you verbally admit that Remus couldn’t handle the full moons as well as he used to?
Over the last year or so, full moons had been doing a number on Remus. He had always said that every full moon was different…some full moons were worse than others. But lately, the recovery time for every full moon was longer and tougher…with some even worse side effects.
This wasn’t the first time that Remus had acquired some mild fatigue and an overall crummy few days…but this was the first time that the aftermath of a full moon had made him physically and violently sick – and left him with no memory of it.
“It’s just one of those things,” Remus reminded you. “Full moons get harder and harder the older I get. That’s just how it is.”
“I don’t like seeing you struggle like that.” You pressed your hand to his forehead again, relieved that he still felt normal.
Remus knew that the aftermath of a full moon was hard on you because of what it did to him. He was irritable, in pain, completely overstimulated. It made him a man that wasn’t really Remus. It turned him into someone he did not like.
“I know, darling.” He said, taking that same hand into his and stroking his thumb across the back of your hand. “I didn’t say or do anything mean to you, did I?” He asked.
“Not at all, honey. You could barely form any kind of sentence,” You said, reaching for the water pitcher on the bedside table to refill his water glass. “When you did speak, it was all gibberish.”
It was true. Remus was so delirious and fever-ridden that he wasn’t processing or forming anything correctly. It was three days of Remus being completely lost to the world and fighting off whatever illness the moon had bestowed upon him.
Remus sipped on the next glass of water, nursing it instead of gulping it down. He was taking the time to actually think about all of this and process it instead of brushing it off. This obviously had been a pretty bad scare, and it was something he needed to take into consideration.
“You haven’t really eaten anything in days. I can whip up some soup for you,” You said. “Are you feeling well enough to eat?”
Remus’ stomach growled at the thought of one of your homemade soups. He hoped that some nourishment would settle the shakiness in his hands and the lightheadedness he was feeling.
“You’re an angel, you know that?” He brought your palm to his lips and left a sweet kiss there. “Thank you for taking care of me. I’m sorry for ruining your weekend.”
“Oh, Remus. You didn’t ruin my weekend,” You smiled reassuringly, as you stood from sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better.”
Remus followed suit, throwing the covers off and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. Just as his feet hit the floor, you were on him.
“I’ll bring it to you, lovely. Don’t push yourself.” Your hands cradled his face, his tired eyes shining at you.
“Darling, I haven’t had a shower in days,” He said. “I feel disgusting.”
“You’re going to be weak when you stand,” You said. “I don’t want you to fall.”
“Come with me then,” He grinned, his arm snaking around your waist. “I’ll make it up to you for spoiling the weekend.”
“You actually must be feeling better,” Your cheeks grew warm. “But I’d really feel better if you would just shower and get back to bed.”
He laughed lightly, knowing that it was worth a try.
“Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”
He was slow and careful when he stood and he (not surprisingly) discovered that your prediction was correct. All the blood rushed from his head and he felt wobbly on his legs, little spots of black dotting in his vision.
“Maybe I should go with you,” You said, realizing he was struggling to stand. “Let’s get you freshened up quickly, yeah?”
Remus nodded, realizing just how sick he really had been. It was just something he would have to keep adjusting to, and something he would have to be prepared for. Not every full moon would be this hard on him, but he needed to be prepared as if each one would.
Remus followed you to the shower, the sound of running water calling his name and offering a sense of relief to him. You helped him out of his T-shirt and sweats, leaving him only long enough to get him a clean set of loungewear.
Remus felt days of grime and sweat melt off of him when he hit the stream of the water. It refreshed him and cleared his mind…and it gave him a sweet moment with you.
“Still feeling alright?” You asked, sweeping a strand of wet hair from Remus’ eyes.
His hands were always on you, keeping you close and secure. He pressed a kiss to your neck, your cheek, your nose. He always was grateful for you, but he was always extra grateful after a bad full moon.
“Yeah, my darling. I’m alright.”
After a shower and a decent meal, Remus knew he would have the fuel to get stronger. He would certainly take it easy for the next few days and have you all over him for every minute of him. You would make him soups and teas and goodies to keep him satisfied and nurtured – providing him with anything he needed to get back feeling right again.
He would love every second of it, assuring you there was no need to fuss over him. But he knew you would do it anyway because you loved him just that much.
And for that, he would always be grateful.