"I'm staying right here,", he said, pulling her impossibly close against him. Every touch to her, every little move that she made was just another thing that reassured Sirius that she was alive. This wasn't the movements he had imagined as he stared at her body earlier, this wasn't a trick of the light that shattered him when it didn't happen again. He hadn't felt for a pulse, but she was moving. She was breathing. Her tears were warm and wet against his neck and her words, though small and soft were all signs of her life, all signs that she was truly back with him again. Her shivering in his arms brought some semblance of sense back to him, and moving enough to slip his other arm behind her knees, he lifted her gently from the cold table that he was sure was causing at least some of her chill, and stepped away from the thing completely. She didn't belong there anymore, as she was clearly alive and clearly crying in his arms. Sirius didn't stop to think that he had never witnessed her tears before, as right then the only thing that mattered was that they were present, they were real, and they were hers.
He took up the seat he had left a moment before, settling her in his lap and tucking the sheet that had been over her, around her, as his arms circled and enfolded her, not trapping but holding, and offering his own warmth to her, and for the first time since she had moved, he allowed himself to feel the joy of the moment. She had come back to him. His prayer had been answered, and she had come back to him. Through his relief a real fear gripped at him suddenly, and he found himself clutching at her and trying to draw her closer to him. What if this was temporary? What if this was just one of those things, and something took her away from him again? He pressed his nose against her hair and inhaled deeply, eyes closing as he struggled to keep his rapidly diminishing composure. "Don't go back," he said, repeating the words she had spoken to him with an unsteady voice. "Stay with me."