The whole thing is over
Watch but touch monkeys
All that blood, gonna swallow you whole
Friday, February 9 • Afternoon
For the first time in days of dreaming, something from outside penetrated his consciousness as a bitter, cold liquid trickled down Lupin's throat. The noise and fury of the snarling battle between man and beast slowly began to ebb.
Sensations filtered through the fog — a blanket, the dryness of his mouth, the feeling of eyes watching him.
Feeling its strength draining away, the wolf made a last-ditch effort to take control: the man's body convulsed, lips pulling back in a silent snarl. Fingers pulled and clawed at the bedcovers.
We are you and you are ours and death itself is powerless in face of that!
A final howl faded inside his mind, and the man was once again alone, if not at peace.
Lupin's chest rose as he took in a full breath, although part of him remembered the stabbing pain from before and tried to stop it.
Remus' left hand, shaking and unsteady, came up to touch his face, feeling the bare hint of moisture left on his lips from the potion. No more snout, no fangs. That danger had passed at least — he'd been unable to tell, until now, if the change had come, or if he had been trapped in the other form permanently, rather like Sirius. The wolf had found that fear hidden inside the mind they shared and had not hesitated to use that weapon.
He was not a beast. But you're still a monster.
Red-rimmed eyes opened and, after a beat, dully regarded the wizards in the room.