One week. One week had passed since the morning when Sirius had stopped by the hospital to see him. They had seen each other since then, of course, a few times in the hospital and then again here, at home. They had behaved. Sirius had brought him chocolate. They had talked. But they had behaved.
Remus wasn't disappointed. He didn't even have to convince himself of that fact. Hadn't he already gotten more than he'd ever thought possible? Hadn't Sirius exceeded his every expectation, his every ridiculous fantasy? There was no reason to be disappointed. And he wasn't. After all, he got to keep the memory, and he still had his best mate. Nothing had changed except for what he had gained. As much as it pained him not to keep it, not to have it again, he had at least had that opportunity.
Remus heard James call for him, and answered, "I'm in the loo, Prongs. Hold your horses, I'm coming." Washing your hands was more complicated than one might think when you had an arm in a sling that you weren't allowed to move as per Healers' instructions. It had a lot to do with orientation... but Remus eventually succeeded, dried his hands, and slowly (very slowly) walked over to the kitchen, crossing James on the way. "Look, I'm mobile!"