In contrast to Remus' state, Regulus is resolute now. He's compartmentalized so much that he doesn't know if he even remembers how to have an emotion. It's only been a matter of parts of an hour. Less than half of one, he imagines. It's all right. He can do this. Maybe. He looks at Remus and something flickers across his expression - it's not compassion but it's some kind of quiet thing he's not quite sure how to deal with.

"Resting," he allows, quiet. "He's going to be all right." He moves closer in a way that's reminiscent of approaching a cornered animal and stops in front of him. He still feels hollow. "Straighten up," isn't a request. He can't stand to see Remus looking so pathetic even now. "Don't act like this." Somehow, it's not unkind.

He breathes in and out slow and it's shaking, belying his attempt at looking stronger than he feels. "I need you to do something for me." He wants things to go back to the way they were before. Before things had gone wrong. "A couple of things, in fact." His hand moves and it's not threatening, but his arm falls back to his side before he can touch Remus. It's too raw.