I wanted to write a gift fic for my dearest Eskimita, because it's her birthday and because I can. When I tried to think of what to write, I couldn't come up with anything at first. And then, this. I figure, cher, you're always encouraging the angsty stories, the real heart breakers. So, here you go. Here's one for you ;)
This wasn't how this was supposed to happen. It wasn't how things were supposed to go!
Spencer had planned out the entire night. He'd set things up perfectly. Dinner was prepped and would be ready to slip onto the table just in time for Derek to get home. It was his husband's favorite; homemade lasagna with garlic bread. The house was clean, there was some low blues music crooning in the background. The whole place was set up to give them one nice, relaxing night at home. With as rocky as things had been in their marriage these past few months, this was just what they needed. A night for just the two of them to be together and maybe get to work on fixing some of those rocky patches that just felt like they were getting bigger and bigger lately.
The slip of paper sitting on the counter reminded Spencer as to why it was even more important than before that they try and fix things.
He'd been home for a few days now instead of out on the current case with the team because he'd been feeling a bit more than under the weather. He'd barely been able to keep food in his stomach these past few days and he'd mostly wanted to just curl up in their bed and sleep. He hadn't called any friends, hadn't even really talked to Derek. He'd just lain in bed in an old Caltech sweater and tried to wait for it to pass. His powers—the mutation that no one at the Bureau except for his husband and his team knew about—hadn't exactly been in control lately, either. They always tended to go a bit out of control when he wasn't feeling well. It was like they reacted to his illness and tried to find ways to comfort him or make it better.
A friend of Spencer and Derek's—a man he'd actually met through Derek and had since become quite close to—jokingly called Spencer 'Samantha' like the witch in Bewitched, or Merlin like, obviously, the wizard Merlin. Spencer's powers were very simply and very basically labeled as 'magic'. Not the magic that required lots of hard studying and spell chanting and such like that. Nothing on the level of Dr. Strange and his abilities. Spencer hadn't studied years and years for this. No, his powers were much simpler, and nowhere near as powerful. He could make things, create them from thin air, though the bigger and more complex the harder it was to do and the longer it took. It was much simpler to take something that already existed and change it to become what he wanted it to. He could also teleport himself somewhere if he wanted. Again, the further it was, the harder it was to do, and the more people he took with him the rougher it was. Basically, he had magic, and he could use it. Teleportation, creation, transmutation, telekinesis—those were just some of the simple, basic things he could do. Nothing on a grand scale. It all just boiled down to a manipulation of magical energies.
What that had meant lately was that every time he got cold, a blanket would appear over him. Every time he gave a bit of thought to wanting a cup of warm tea, one would appear on the nightstand by his bed. A cup he'd been holding had transformed into a bucket once when he'd been curled up on the couch and had suddenly felt so sick he wasn't sure he'd be able to make it to the bathroom to throw up.
When, after a few crappy days like that, things hadn't gotten any better, he'd gone in to the doctor to try and find out just what was wrong. He'd walked out of there quite a bit more stunned than he'd gone in. He wasn't sick.
He was pregnant.
Ten weeks pregnant, to be exact. The doctor had assured him that he and baby were both very healthy. Nausea was a common problem for pregnancy and even more so for male carriers. A male carrier's body was equipped with the proper internal organs for pregnancy, but the hormones needed to successfully maintain that pregnancy were always very low right at the start and would rapidly kick in as the pregnancy took place. The flood of hCG and estrogen, especially in a body that carries only minimal amounts normally, is enough to cause an even more pronounced nausea than most women go through. Spencer knew all of that, logically, but he'd never really stopped to apply it to himself. He took birth control. He took it regularly. He hadn't expected to end up pregnant! Especially not…not now. Not wihle things were so rocky between them.
When he got home, he'd spent hours on the couch just lying there, cradling his stomach, thinking about what needed to be done. He and Derek had been arguing lately and they'd been so distant. Spencer had wanted to try and fix it, really he had, but he hadn't been sure about what to do. They just felt so separate from who they'd used to be when they'd first gotten married two years ago. He'd begun to worry that after two years of marriage and three years of being together as a couple, that things were just fading away.
He couldn't let that happen.
He'd been a child with parents whose marriage was falling apart. That wasn't something that he'd ever wish on any child. Whatever was going on between he and Derek, it needed to be figured out and fixed. Not just for their sakes, but for the sake of the life inside of him.
So, with that in mind, he'd set about making the best night that he could, hoping to relax his husband and to reconnect with him before telling him the big news.
That was the plan, at least. Spencer had never counted on this.
The lasagna still had a good thirty minutes left on it when there came a knock at the door. He set down the tea that he'd been drinking to try and quell his stomach—the anti-nausea medication the doctor had given him, geared specifically for male carriers, was helping to curb it a little but not perfectly—and he made his way over to the door. When he answered it, he found a pretty dark skinned woman there, smiling up at him so very nervously. Her whole body language declared worry and reluctance and it set Spencer immediately on edge. Had something happened to Derek? Was this a person come to tell him that something bad had happened?
"Hi there." The woman said, her voice low and sweet. "I, ah, I know you don't know me, but my name's Kell. Kelly. And you must be Spencer."
The sick feeling in Spencer's stomach was growing once more. His hand curled a little tighter around the door. There was a part of him that he found didn't want to say anything. That part of him wanted to just shut the door and pretend that this woman and whatever news she brought wasn't really here. He forced himself to stand there, to look at her and try to speak politely around the sudden lump that had built in his throat. "Can I help you?"
Kelly looked even more nervous now than she had before. She lifted one hand, running it over her hair in a nervous gesture, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the next. All little things that the profiler in Spencer took in absently. "I, ah. Oh, hell." Kelly blew out a breath and lifted wide eyes up towards him. Eyes that were full of worry and what looked like an apology. "I'm so sorry, I don't know how else to do this so I'm just going to say it." Then, so bluntly it was like a slap to the face, one entirely unexpected, she blurted out the last thing he'd thought to hear. "I'm sleeping with your husband."
Spencer stared at her with wide eyed shock for one long beat as his brain tried to process this. As he tried to make sense of the words that he'd never, ever thought to hear directed his way. Shock and heartache both arrowed through him so sharply he almost gasped from it. His mind screamed a denial even as the logical part of him, the cool scientist, the profiler, softly nodded over things that he'd noticed in Derek that now finally made sense.
Taking one step back, he held the door open. "Maybe you should come inside."
Spencer felt like his whole world had gone numb. Like his insides had simply frozen over. This couldn't be real. It, it had to be just a stupid dream, right? His unique mind had always managed to create the most vivid and realistic dreams. That had to be what this was. There was no way he was really sitting here at the kitchen table that he was supposed to be setting and using for a romantic dinner with his husband, looking across said table at the woman that was apparently his husband's mistress.
"I'm so sorry." Kelly was saying yet again, for about the thousandth time. "What we did, what I did, was wrong. So very wrong, and I know that. That's why I'm here. I couldn't, I just couldn't do this to myself anymore, or to you, either. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right and I knew…I knew he couldn't seem to bring himself to tell you, but you deserved to know."
The words were sort of distant. Like they were coming from far away. His own voice, when he spoke, surprised him. He hadn't planned on saying anything yet. Hadn't even thought he had anything to say. Yet there he was, speaking in this flat, emotionless voice, asking "How long?"
The heartbreak on Kelly's face grew a little more pronounced. "Six months." She whispered.
Six months. Six months? She was telling him that Derek, his Derek, had been with someone else for six months? Had been cheating on him for half a year? Spencer felt the first real flare of emotion through the numbness that wasn't just stunned disbelief, but before the anger could take hold, before he could reflexively deny her words, she shattered them all completely by holding out her phone. There, on the screen, was a picture of her and Derek.
Spencer's hands shook slightly as he reached out and took the phone. His heart felt like it was clamped in a vice. A vice that only got tighter as he flipped through more and more pictures, the dates down at the bottom confirming Kelly's story. Six months. Six months Derek had been with this woman, holding her, laughing with her. Taking her to carnivals or for what looked like movie nights at a place Spencer was assuming was hers. Smiling at her. Kissing her. Looking at her the way he'd once looked at Spencer. The way he hadn't for quite a while now.
The phone slipped from numb fingers to drop down to the table. "Oh, God." The words came out in a voice that was soft and so damn broken. Spencer didn't realize that the words came from him until he saw Kelly's flinch. Nausea churned in the young mutant's stomach and he quickly pressed a hand there. On the life that was growing in there. Kelly's eyes followed his hand and when she saw the gesture, her mouth made a little 'o' of surprise and her eyes snapped back up to his face with a stunned, pained realization. For one brief second their stares connected and they both knew in that moment what was going on here. She could see the knowledge all over his face, the confirmation that yes, he was pregnant, and he could see on hers the fear that built in response, a fear that Derek would now decide to stay with a child on the way.
That was the silent scene that Derek walked in on only seconds later.
Neither person at the table moved at first as the front door opened and Derek came walking inside. Then they both turned to stare at him as the profiler came hesitantly inside, already alerted by the car out in the drive. He looked pained, afraid, worried—but it was the relief on his face that truly did Spencer in. The utter relief of a man who had been carrying a guilty secret for far too long and was glad to finally be able to stop hiding. With that look, Spencer felt his heart shatter. "You son of a bitch."
Derek's pained wince would've moved him at any other time, in any other situation. Right now it only made him ache even more. What right did Derek have to be pained about this? What right did he have to be upset? The man spread his hands out and took a small step towards the table. "Spencer…"
"No." Spencer shook his head quickly. He shoved his chair back from the table, an instinctive retreat from someone that he'd thought he'd never have to worry about hurting him. Someone he'd trusted to be the one person who he could count on. He shook his head again as he pushed himself up to his feet. "Don't. Just, don't. Stay back."
Pain darkened Derek's eyes. Pain and regret. But he did listen to Spencer's words. He stayed back. He also took a small step in Kelly's direction, which made Spencer's stomach twist. "I'm sorry, Spencer."
"Were you ever going to tell me?" Spencer asked him. He curled his arms around his waist in a self-soothing gesture that he hadn't used for quite a while. One that he'd used to do so often back when there'd been no one to hold on to him and so he'd had to hold himself.
There was a long moment of quiet as the three people stood there and stared at one another. Spencer watched Derek's face, watched the debate play out there in his eyes as he ran through so many different ways he could probably answer it. He saw when Derek finally decided on the truth. His shoulders slumped slightly and his eyes became steadier before his whole body braced in preparation for what he was about to say. "This weekend. I was going to tell you this weekend." His eyes slanted over to Kelly, pained and a little annoyed, but full of enough love that it tightened the vice on Spencer's heart and left him feeling like he'd been sucker-punched. "I'm sorry, to both of you." Derek said softly. His eyes came back to Spencer. "Neither one of you deserved this. But, I just…there's been something broken between us for a while now, Spencer. I know you've felt it."
"Then you should've come to me to try and fix it." Spencer said achingly. He tightened his hands in the sides of his shirt and tried to hold himself together. "You should've said something instead of going out and finding someone else."
"I know." Derek said. "I know. I just…Spencer, we weren't happy. Neither one of us were happy. And I don't think talking would've fixed it. We rushed into this marriage, you and I, and I don't think we thought it through. We're…we're too much. Too close. We work together, live together, we always go out socializing together. People need a little separation between themselves and their partners and you and I don't have that. We've never had that. I needed to be me, man."
"And being you meant finding yourself a woman on the side?"
Derek had the good grace to wince at that. "No, no. I didn't go out actively looking for someone else. I would never do that to you. It just…"
"It just happened." Spencer cut it, and his voice held bitterness to it and an anger he wasn't quite ready to touch. "I didn't mean it. It was an accident. She completes me. I never meant to hurt you. I love you, I'm just not in love with you anymore." He snorted and took another step back. "Yeah, I've heard all of those before. I heard them each time Mom found out about one of Dad's affairs. Well, I'm not my mother. I'm not going to stay and accept excuse after excuse. I told you way back in the beginning that there was one thing I couldn't handle. One thing I begged you never to do to me." He'd pleaded, even cried at one point as he told Derek about the amount of times his father had cheated on his mother, and how he'd used her illness against her even and let her think she was making things up once she was more lucid.
Inside, Spencer felt like his heart was breaking. It felt like it was in jagged pieces inside of his chest, shredding him, tearing him apart. He couldn't care about the pained way that Derek was watching him, or the sorrowful look on Kelly's face. All he could think about was the life that was inside of him and the dreams that were now lying broken at his feet. "I'll make this easy for you." His voice came out so low and hoarse, more pained than it had ever sounded before. Only a small flare of his power and the ring on his finger, a ring he hadn't taken off even for work, appeared in the center of the table.
The last thing Spencer saw before he vanished was the shocked look on both Derek and Kelly's faces.
He didn't think about where he was going when he vanished. It was a dangerous way to teleport; he'd learned that early on in life. Having a destination firmly in mind was the only safe way to do it. Not since the early days when his powers had first manifested had he teleported by sheer need without any sense of direction to it. Yet that was what he did now. One moment he was standing in that dining room wishing he was anywhere but there and the next moment he was standing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. A glance around him, over the empty fields and trees and across the nearby castle ruins, told him where he was.
Scotland.
It was a place he liked to go when he wanted to think. A place he'd spent plenty of time at over the years. He'd come here and sit himself down on the cliffs, watching the water, feeling the wind, safely away from plenty of people. That was exactly what he needed right now.
Right there at the cliff's edge, he sat himself down and curled his body in tight.
There should be tears, he thought. He should be crying. He should be upset, or angry, or just something. But he just sat there and held himself tightly as he stared out over the water and wondered where the hell they'd gone so wrong. Had this…was it because of him? That question plagued him. As soon as he had it, he tried to banish it but it refused to go, circling round and round in his mind and gaining more force, spawning more questions. Was he too clingy? Should he have given Derek more space? He knew the man had been a little off-put at first by just how cuddly Spencer was in private. He liked to touch and be touching with those that he loved. Maybe it was because he hadn't ever really had that, or because he didn't allow himself that with anyone, so it all built up into this giant need when he was with someone he loved and he just found himself reaching out, all the time. Fingers on the wrist, a quick touch to the lug, cuddling when on the couch, snuggling up while they slept.
Derek had said they were too close. Did too much together. 'I needed to be me, man.' Maybe he should've given his husband more space. Declined going out with them sometimes and just let Derek go have fun. It was just, it was hard. Like Derek had said, their lives were so twined together. They shared a home, worked the same job with the same team, they shared the same circle of friends. There was no room for individuality. Whereas Spencer had found that comforting, apparently Derek had not.
No. Spencer told himself firmly, trying to push those thoughts down. No, he was not going to sit here and blame himself. He was not going to fall into the same pattern that he'd seen his mother in so many times. This wasn't his fault. No matter how unhappy Derek was, no matter how shaky their marriage had gotten, none of that was an excuse for cheating. If Derek had been so damn unhappy, he should've said something. He should've spoken up. Not went out and found himself someone else and then proceeded to see her for six months until she outed him!
The pain welled up again and Spencer bowed his head until his forehead pressed against his knees. There he sat, in the dark on the cliffs, and the numbness finally gave way to waves of grief that left him broken and sobbing, wondering how the hell a night that had started out so great had ended up going so wrong.
Spencer had no idea how much time had passed while he sat there and cried. He'd barely taken note of the changing of light around him, or of anything else really. His phone had rang off and on with Derek's ringtone quite a few times since he'd settled in. He ignored it for the most part. Why would he bother answering? Let Derek wonder for a while. Let him worry. There was nothing that he had to say that Spencer wanted to listen to right now. He didn't shut it off, though, even if he wanted to. Their job had taught him to never have his phone completely off just in case there was a work emergency. Cases could come in at any time. Hence why he had different ringtones for everyone. Penelope had helped him to set that up. It allowed him to know if it was a personal call or potentially a work call. Only Aaron or Penelope ever called to let him know about cases.
The ringtone that started playing suddenly definitely wasn't Derek, but it wasn't Aaron or Penelope either. Spencer hesitated only a second before he pulled the phone from his pocket and answered it. "Reid." He answered in a voice gone hoarse. Absently, he thought to himself that it was good he'd kept his own name when they married. It would make a few things easier. The nausea came back almost full force as he thought about where that thought was heading and why he should be happy to have kept his last name.
"Spencer." A soft sigh that sounded slightly like relief came over the line. "Merci Dieu, cher. I was hoping y'd answer."
The warm sounds of Remy's voice were at one comforting and distressing. He'd always enjoyed the Cajun's company from the very first instant that Derek had introduced them. But, he was Derek's friend first, and Spencer knew he had to be calling now because Derek had called him. Spencer opened his eyes and lifted them to look out over the water once more. "I'm fine." He croaked out. "And you can report that back to him. I'm fine, and no, I'm not coming home."
"Of course y' aint!" Remy said immediately. "Like I'd tell y' to get on over to him. C'mon now, Spencer, who do y' t'ink I am? Y'r getting y'r ass here, now. I got a bed wit' y'r name on it."
The offer hadn't at all been what Spencer was expecting but he couldn't deny just how appealing it sounded. A bed in a place far away from Derek, away from everything that spelled home, in a place that wouldn't blink an eye at his powers. But he's Derek's friend. What's to say that Derek won't show up? That Remy isn't really on his side of things? What if Remy doesn't even know what's going on? That was a good point. What if Derek hadn't told him what was happening, just that he was looking for Spencer? "Remy,"
"Non." Remy interrupted him. "I aint asking. Dere's no way in hell y' need to be alone after all dat fuckin' connard just did. He told me everyt'ing when he was asking if I'd heard from y'. Get y'r ass on over here where I can at least know y'r safe. I promise, he won't hear a t'ing from Remy bout where y' are."
Remy would keep his word, Spencer knew. That was important to him. He made a point to keep his word no matter what.
A shiver ran down Spencer. There was still a little part of him that wanted to refuse, that wanted to stay here around no one where he could be free to break without any eyes on him. The rest of him craved something positive right now. "Where are you?"
He heard Remy let out another of those relieved sighs. "De mansion. I'm on de back porch right now. Y' remember it clear enough, or y' need Remy to move to somewhere y' remember better?"
Teleporting for Spencer was something that was easiest done to places he knew well. He could go somewhere unknown, but it was hit or miss how he'd land. Places he knew were much easier and safer. Luckily, he knew the back porch at Xavier's well. When he'd gone to visit, he'd spent a bit of time there. Enough to know it well and easily navigate himself there now. He did just that instead of actually answering verbally. He just pushed himself to his feet on the cliffs and then sent himself to the back porch of the mansion.
One quick look showed that he'd landed correctly, right on the grass at the edge of the porch, and just a few feet away from Remy. The Cajun didn't startle at his appearance. He simply vanished his phone into one of his many pockets and then was striding right up towards Spencer. "Ah, cher." In seconds Spencer found himself being pulled into the warmth of Remy's arms. The minute Remy had him in his arms, he made a pained sound. "Spencer, cher, y'r freezin'!" Immediately he was pulling off his jacket and swinging it to tuck around Spencer's shoulders. "Where were y' at? Y'r like ice!"
"Scotland." Spencer said through teeth that were, in fact, starting to chatter a bit from the cold.
"Merde! No wonder y'r freezin'. C'mon, let's get y' inside and warmed up." With easy, efficient moves, Remy got Spencer tucked underneath one arm and then he was leading him inside, talking almost nonstop as he did. "I asked Ro to make up de room right next t'mine fo' y'. We'll get y' all nice an comfortable in dere an get y' warmed up. Everyt'ing else can wait fo' de mornin', yeah?"
It was strangely soothing to just let Remy's babble wash over him and allow the man to lead him inside. Numbness, not just from the cold but for his emotions, was slowly creeping back in. He felt like he'd cycled through so many emotions tonight. Numbness, shock, anger, grief, heartache, back to numbness all over again. it was just too much too fast. For someone who had always been slightly scared of his emotions and who had fought so many times in life to try and not feel, it was almost too much. This was why he hadn't ever wanted to be in a relationship with someone. He hadn't wanted to open himself up to feeling like this. He hadn't wanted to ever let someone do to him what William had done to Diana. Yet here he was—married, with a husband that had fallen in love with someone else, had been seeing them for six months, and with a baby on the way.
Spencer curled his arms around himself, over his stomach, and clutched Remy's jacket tighter to him. He didn't notice the few tears that slipped free. He just moved where Remy directed him, putting one foot in front of the other until they were stopping and Remy was lightly pushing him down onto the edge of the bed. He watched with surprise as the man knelt down at his feet and pulled his socks off for him. Once they were set aside, Remy stayed squatting, but he looked up at Spencer. His whole expression was sorrowful. One hand came up and oh-so-gently wiped at the tears on Spencer's cheek. "Je suis désolé, mon ami. I'm so sorry he did dat to y'."
The words tumbled out of Spencer before he could stop them. "What did I do wrong?"
"Oh, cher, y' didn't do not'ing. Not a damn t'ing." Remy said, cupping his hand over Spencer's cheek.
"How did I not see it? He's been seeing her for six months. Six months, Remy!" Another shiver ran over Spencer and he tightened his arms around himself and curled his hands into fists in his shirt. His eyes closed against the pain, though a few more tears squeezed out. "Tonight was supposed to be a good night. I was going to tell him….and now, now it's all wrong. I don't, I don't understand." His voice cracked on the last word and it came out in a pathetic sort of wail that embarrassed him. He couldn't stop it, nor the sob that broke free.
All of a sudden Spencer found himself wrapped up tight once more in Remy's arms. This time, he didn't just stand there. He melted down into it and let the tears flow. He cried against Remy's chest until there was nothing left in him, until he was reduced to quivering, gasping little tremors, too exhausted to even reach up and wipe his face.
Gentle hands did it for him. Spencer felt his face get wiped with a tissue and then those same hands were shifting him, moving him, laying him down in the soft warmth of the bed. He felt Remy sit down on the bed right in front of him and then those long thief's fingers were running soothingly through his hair. "Go to sleep, cher." Remy murmured. "I'll be here in de morning. Jus' go to sleep." Then, ever so softly, he started to hum.
Exhausted from the night, Spencer drifted off to the sleep with the soft sounds of 'Fais do-do'.
