The knock on the door startled Remus out of sleep. He'd been dreaming of blood; so vivid was the dream that he'd been able to taste it in his mouth and in his throat. So vivid was it that, for a instantaneous moment, he'd thought that he'd escaped and had committed unspeakable things.

Each knock sounded like a bomb going off in his head as he patted his chest and his stomach with an aching hand to make sure he was safe, sound and crime-free. Tonks' voice that followed, bless her, was like a shrill shriek to the headache knocking about inside his skull. He groggily peered at the door from where he lay curled up in a ball on the floor in the corner of the room.

With a grunt, he tried to sit up but was seized with a howling pain in his bones. His bones and muscles were aching from stretching, cracking, shapeshifting into a werewolf. Not even Wolfsbane potion could take away the monstrosity of turning on the full moon. And Merlin, was transforming taking a toll on his ageing body.

He gave up trying to sit up, and he slumped back down on the scratchy, tattered blankets beneath him. He hated Tonks seeing him like this. He wondered, briefly, how much she'd heard last night. The mere thought of her hearing the beast in him surfacing made him feel wracked with shame and repulsion at himself.

"Not now, love," he managed, wanting to sound normal but his voice belying him with the way it came out in a weary croak. "Tired."

[OOC: Sorry for the delay. Been sick with a bad ear infection, blergh!]