It was becoming a bit more apparent to him that Sirius was actually growing concerned. Remus was normally calm, to the point of being pretty insufferable about it but after everything that happened to say he was constantly on edge was a masterpiece of an understatement.
At the mention of James' old, shoddy flat Remus felt his heart wrench. That place had been pretty bad (though for someone like Remus it was pretty status quo for the standard of living), but that had never really mattered to the lot of them. All they ever really cared about was that they were all together. How many times had they gone up on the roof (with James and Sirius usually having to give Pete a boost), laid down and looked right up at the sky? Purposely or not, Remus had always managed to find himself right next to Sirius. He'd so often wanted to say his dreams for the future included the dark haired boy, always, but at the time he'd been too afraid to do so. Remus did not dare let himself go back further than that, to remember more than that.
Before answering, Remus looked himself over. Sirius appeared younger, as he'd already made note of before. As he looked at the scars on his hands, he counted the raised lines and he knew he himself was not any younger. There was one that he'd given himself trying to claw off the restraints to break out of the storm cellar he'd chained himself in three moons ago. "Just in a bit of shock, I reckon," he replied. "Sorry." He took a deep breath in and tried to exhale slowly. "I'm trying to wrap my mind around all of this and I.. I'm not doing a good job of it I'm afraid." He found it incredibly difficult to meet Sirius' gaze, which wasn't surprising but it hurt terribly. "Do I not look a bit different to you?"