There are finally other X-Men in here, though they make only a minimal appearance. It sort of sets the scene for when they get to talk more later, you know? I hope you guys like this. It was a hard one to write. As I've done with this series, this story is yet another one that draws off of personal experience for me. I hope you guys - well, not enjoy, per se, but like, maybe? - this newest addition to this storyline. I'm so happy to see all the people who are loving it! And to all those that messaged me and encouraged me last time, thank you. You're wonderful.
Also, this story line started at 5 x 20 and I have no idea how long it really was in the CM world between there and Emily's death, but seeing as how it was later in the next season, I'm going to go ahead and make it be close to a year. So that means that Remy/Spencer have been doing their thing off and on for a year now.
Time went by and the two men fell into a sort of routine of visits here and there. It wasn't just Spencer calling Remy, either. Sometimes Remy called him. Sometimes he called in advance and let Spencer know when he was going to be in town. Once, he even called because of his own real need. That night was one that was branded in Spencer's mind for eternity. Remy had needed so badly. He'd needed, more than anything else, to be in complete control of something, because—as Spencer found out later when they spoke—he'd lost all control when he'd been unable to do anything but watch the woman he loved like a sister fight for her life. She was better now, safe and healthy, but the out-of-control feeling that Remy had suffered all that time needed to have an outlet. Some form of relief. Spencer had gladly given him that. There hadn't been a single bit of him that night that he hadn't given control of to Remy and he'd proudly born the marks to prove it.
Remy was mostly very careful about where he put his marks on Spencer. What marks did show, they were generally ones that Spencer could cover up. They both knew that Spencer had a job that required him to look a certain way. If he came in with love bites all over his neck or covered in real bruises, it could cause trouble for him and it could reflect badly on the Bureau if he had to go out on a case like that. So they were very careful. Sometimes that frustrated the hell out of Spencer. He loved seeing the marks on his skin and it was hard to know that they had to restrain themselves. To make up for it, Remy always made sure to leave plenty where they could be hidden. He especially liked to mark over Spencer's prominent hipbones. Spencer loved it.
Remy's condo had become a definite sanctuary for Spencer. He knew that no matter what was going on in his life, this would always be a safe place for him. Each time he came here, Remy proved it to him all over again. He was safe here in ways he'd never been anywhere else before. He looked forward to his time there.
They were getting closer and closer, he and Remy. It was both strange and wonderful for Spencer. He was coming to find that he enjoyed the company of Remy-the-person as much as Remy-the-Dom. They'd taken to talking on the phone sometimes; just, talking. There were even times that Spencer had found that a simple phone call with Remy could help settle his nerves when he was feeling a little off kilter. The man was easy to talk to. He was smart, funny, with a sharp wit and a zest for life itself that seemed to infect those around him. Remy seemed to live in the belief that every day was a gift to be treasured. Judging by conversations, Spencer had a feeling that the past hadn't been that kind to Remy and because of that, he'd learned how to appreciate what he had and enjoy every moment of it.
It was that closeness that was Spencer's salvation when the world felt like it crashed down around him, all because of one person—Ian Doyle.
No, no, it couldn't be. She couldn't – no. No! There was no way she could be gone. They were wrong. Wrong. That word echoed through Spencer's mind. Even as he held tight to JJ, her arms wrapping around him to offer him any comfort she could, his mind railed against the news. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't! Emily couldn't be dead. Absolutely not. How could JJ say those things? They were lies; they had to be. They'd gotten to her! They'd figured things out and they'd found her. She was supposed to be all right. They were supposed to have been there in time!
Spencer barely noticed when JJ finally pulled back. He heard her saying something and he felt her hand brush over his tearstained cheek but it was all sort of vague. Everything went sort of vague as he drew inwards and his mind railed against what he'd been told. Emily, sweet beautiful Emily, a woman who had become like the sister he'd never had, was gone. She was gone. She'd died in there on that hospital table without a single one of her friends or family there with her. She'd been tortured by Ian fucking Doyle and murdered back there in that little piece of hell. All to protect her family. To keep them safe. She'd died, to keep them safe, and to keep a child safe. The weight of that felt like it was crushing him. It felt like a whole ton of bricks had just dropped down on his chest and stolen his very breath away. Spencer wanted to curl in, to put a hand to his chest to try and combat the pain he felt there.
He didn't notice at first that he was breathing hard. That pain in his chest was getting heavier and he couldn't breathe around it. He was gasping, trying to suck in air, and his head was starting to spin. His body was trembling. It felt like the world was trembling with him, threatening to fall apart, to break underneath his feet and send him falling down, down, down into the darkness, that pit of grief that he was so afraid he'd never be able to crawl back out of.
All it took was one single touch to destroy what little control he had left. Just a light touch, a hand on his shoulder, and the control that had been keeping him in place shattered like so much glass.
Spencer was moving without conscious thought. He had to get out of here, out of this damn hospital, away from everything and everyone. He couldn't take being here. Not here, not now. And the last thing he needed was to be around people. He'd felt his control shatter, could feel the fresh tears streaming down his cheeks, and he could feel all the emotion boiling up in him, unchecked. He needed to get as far away from here as he possibly could.
Only, he hadn't factored in his friends. He hadn't thought how they would follow him or how they might try to stop him. When Derek's hand grabbed his arm, the way Spencer reacted was purely instinctive, his body responding to his need to get away from here and away from the hand that was preventing him from leaving. He jerked against the grip, lifting and twisting his arm in a quick move to break the hold there. But it only came back again, twice as strong, and Spencer's panic grew. Derek pulled on him, yanking him in close, and Spencer noted just how panicked his friend looked. It only fueled Spencer's own panic. He jerked again, trying to get free, but Derek's grip was tight.
"Reid!" Derek called sharply as he yanked him close again. "Dammit, Reid, stop. Just stop."
Spencer tugged even harder to try and break free. "Let go of me!" He snapped.
"Like hell. There's no way I'm letting you just run off when you're like this."
"Let go of me!" Spencer tugged again, his panic growing higher. That weight on his chest was crushing him, little by little, and couldn't Derek feel the world shaking around them? Couldn't he feel it in the air? It was all coming apart. Everything. The bedrock was giving way beneath him and they were all going to fall. He had to get away from here, now!
Derek's grip tightened a little more. "I said no, Reid. I'm not letting go, not when you're feeling like this. I can help you, kid. Let me take you home. Let me take you to my place. You don't have to be alone for this."
The grief welled up in him, a giant, aching chasm, and Spencer let out a low cry. He gave another tug on his arm only to be jerked in even closer. What happened next wasn't at all what he'd meant and yet he couldn't stop it. Like someone else was controlling him, he watched as his hands lifted and he took a swing at one of his best friends. Derek dodged it, of course, but Spencer didn't stop. He lifted his other hand and swung again. This time his fist connected solidly into Derek's gut. But it wasn't enough to break the man's grip. Instead, Derek bent in, absorbing the blow, and he drew Spencer in with him, trying to pull his friend in and get his arms around him.
The panic roared even higher. Spencer lost most conscious thought except for the one screaming at him to get away. With a wild cry, Spencer threw his whole body into struggling to get free, fighting with a ferocity that none of his friends had seen. He bucked, kicked, hit, twisted and struggled, anything he could think of to get away from Derek's restraining arms. The more his friend held on, the more Spencer thought he would break.
His friends looked on with horror from the sidelines. They'd all hurried out after the two men and they watched now as one of the most calm and controlled people they knew flew apart. None of them had ever seen Spencer panic like this. Not once in all their years at together had they seen him lose it so completely and totally. He was fighting Derek tooth and nail, inarticulate screams ripping from him to echo sharply in the night air, his body straining and fighting so hard they were terrified he was going to do serious damage to himself or Derek. When a particularly violent twist and kick sent them both crashing to the ground, the group gasped. Penelope gripped JJ's hand while her other hand went over her heart. Aaron and Dave both moved forward, ready to try and stop this, to help Derek get Spencer under control before one of them were seriously hurt.
They never got the chance to do it. Only two steps forward and they were stopped by the sound of a voice suddenly shouting nearby. "Oi! Let go of him!"
It's in that moment of distraction that Spencer broke free. Derek didn't let go as the voice ordered—Spencer jerked out of his arms and lunged forward, away from him, stumbling onto the pavement and then jerking himself back up. His whole body was vibrating, panicked eyes darting around like some cornered animal looking for an exit, and he looked like he was going to bolt any second now. He didn't get the chance. The person to whom the voice belonged to reached the group and surprised them even more by bypassing everyone and going straight for Spencer.
Spencer saw who was coming for him and felt a tiny sliver of relief underneath everything else. But the 'everything else' was still too strong. Emotions that Spencer couldn't sort out, that churned and screamed inside of him, clouded him to anything else. He couldn't fight them. He couldn't even breathe enough to sort out what they were. It felt like he was about to break apart and the only person who had any hopes of holding him together was walking right up to him without any concern for anyone else. How the hell Remy knew to be here, Spencer had no idea, and he wasn't about to question it. Right now, Remy was exactly the person he needed. Spencer didn't have enough control of himself, though, to reach out to what he knew was being offered. The panic was higher than anything else and it prompted him to stumble backwards, away from Remy.
Someone said something to Remy only to find themselves ignored. Remy paid no one else any mind. When someone reached for him, he moved quickly, ducking around their hand and continuing straight for Spencer. The genius stumbled back again as the warring needs in him fought for dominance. The part of him that screamed to run far, far away fought against the part that wanted him to pitch himself straight at Remy and into a pair of arms he knew would catch him and hold him tightly together. Arms that would keep him safe as the world broke apart around him. The hesitance gave Remy a chance to get close. By the time the urge to run won out, it was too late. Spencer didn't even get a step before Remy was on him.
Unlike Derek, Remy wasted no time at first with words. He sought only to wrap Spencer up tightly and restrain him. And Spencer didn't hold himself back with Remy. There had been a small part of the genius that had tried to hold back when wrestling with Derek. Even if it hadn't seemed like it, he hadn't wanted to hurt Derek in his efforts to get free. With Remy he had no such worries. He knew the Cajun could hold him. He'd tested his strength time and time again against Remy and had lost—or won, really, depending on your viewpoint—each and every time. Remy had proved his strength over Spencer each time. So Spencer had no fears now about being too rough or about hurting him. He didn't even have to worry about breaking free. No matter how hard he fought, Remy wouldn't let him go.
Spencer was too caught up in everything to think about his friends anymore. He forgot they were even there as Remy's arms closed around him like steel bands and held him tightly against a familiar chest. He didn't see as Derek, Aaron and Dave all moved forward to try and stop this stranger from hurting their friend, or as JJ actually reached out and stopped them, telling them "No, it's fine. It's okay. Just stay back."
None of that registered in Spencer's world. He fought like a wild thing against Remy's hold. Then suddenly one of Remy's hands locked around his wrist and that was all the leverage the Cajun needed. Spencer barely had time to blink before his arm was twisted and that wrist shoved up behind his back and he was slammed into the back of the SUV beside them. His other hand shot out, to do what he didn't know, and Remy caught that one too, twisting it up to join his other wrist in Remy's tight grasp.
Again, Derek made to step forward, unable to just stand there and watch anymore, but this time it wasn't just JJ who stopped him, it was Dave as well. That shocked Derek. He looked to Dave, who was shaking his head. "Don't just react, Morgan. Look at them. Look at Reid."
The soft words had Derek obeying. He pushed down the temper that was rolling in him at seeing his best friend manhandled and he made himself just look. Spencer was pressed up against the back of the SUV now, completely pinned in place, unable to break free at all no matter how hard he tried. But everyone watching could see that Spencer wasn't really fighting to get free anymore. Oh, he was fighting, no doubt about that, but nothing he was doing seemed geared towards getting free. It was almost like he was fighting just for the sake of fighting.
All of a sudden Spencer's body went completely still. He froze, his body locked into place like some statue, and he spoke in a voice that was hard and flat, almost completely devoid of emotion. "Let me go, Remy."
"I don't t'ink so, petit." Remy said calmly. He tightened his grip on Spencer's wrists and pressed his body in a little closer. "Not till I'm sure y'r done."
"Let me go rightthe fuck now." Spencer said, still in that same flat voice. His choice of words surprised those looking on.
They didn't surprise Remy. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. He knew the kind of reaction that Spencer needed here, what would help steady him, and he didn't let the fact that he had an audience stop him. Tightening his grip on Spencer's wrists to a bruising hold, he let his own voice harden a little, slipping into that firm tone that Spencer always responded so well to. "Excusez-moi? Y' wanna try dat again, petit? I don't t'ink I heard y' right."
A barely noticeable shiver ran down Spencer's spine at that tone of voice. He drew in a shaky breath, opening his mouth to say something, and then he snapped his mouth closed and just shook his head. He didn't trust himself to speak right then. Didn't trust what would come out. He wanted to curse and scream and he knew that he couldn't do any of that here. The cloud on his mind was clearing just enough for him to remember where he was—and who was watching. This was definitely not the place for this. His body shook with the effort of trying to keep himself under control. As always, Remy read him perfectly. He relaxed his grip just slightly on Spencer's wrists, still tight but not bruising, and he used his free hand to rub at Spencer's arm. "Dere y' go, dat's better. Y' gonna keep a civil tongue in y'r head now?" He paused, waiting for Spencer's nod. When he got it, he smiled. "Good boy. If I let y' go, y' gonna try and bolt again, or y' gonna behave?"
The idea of being let go, of being free, had the panic rearing up in Spencer again. His body jerked and his breathing hitched a bit while his heart sped up a little.
Remy gave his wrists a firm squeeze and pressed just a bit closer to him. "Shh now, petit. Don't start panicking on me again. I've got y'. I aint letting y' go, not all de way. Dat's not what I meant." He leaned in close and used both their hair as enough of a screen to hide it as he gave a sharp bite to the bottom of Spencer's ear. The little jolt of pain arrowed through Spencer and gave him another point to anchor on in the chaos that still seemed to swirl in and around him. "Y'r mine, Spencer Reid." Remy said into his ear, his voice low and possessive. "Y'r gonna be a good boy fo' me and y'r gonna behave when I lean off y' here. We're gonna go make our way to m' car. Understand?"
That firm, steady tone issuing the orders—and there was no doubt those were orders, not requests—gave Spencer something stable to stand on. They anchored him in ways he was never quite able to explain to anyone else. Holding on to that feeling, Spencer gathered up enough strength and courage to voice his one request in a trembling voice. "Don't let go?"
"Never." Remy swore.
When they pulled away from the SUV, the grip that Remy had on Spencer's wrist shifted around, but he was true to his word and he never let go completely. He freed only one of Spencer's hands. The other was held tightly in Remy's grip, long fingers around Spencer's wrist like a shackle. It was firm and tight and just exactly what Spencer needed. Without it, he knew he'd be breaking apart again, that panic once more consuming him. At the moment Remy's touch was the only thing holding it at bay. He was securely held here by Remy and he knew the man wouldn't let him get away. He wouldn't let him break free.
Remy surprised Spencer by completely ignoring the BAU members. He didn't acknowledge them in any way, shape or form. Instead, he tugged on Spencer and drew him away from them, moving over towards a different part of the parking lot, pulling Spencer along by that firm grip on his wrist. Spencer heard Derek call out behind him but there were other voices as well, someone talking quickly, and no one seemed to be coming after them, so Spencer didn't bother trying to focus on it. He didn't really try to focus on anything outside of the hold that Remy had on him.
They rounded one car and Spencer saw Remy's familiar SUV ahead. Only…were there people there by it? One man was leaning against the back of the SUV with a cigar between his fingers, talking to another man and a woman. Who were these people? Why were they over here? He didn't want to see them. He didn't want to see anyone. As fragile as he felt, the last thing he wanted was to be around people. That was why he'd fought so hard to get away from Derek. He didn't want to be around anyone. The grief inside of him, the anger and pain, were so overpowering, he had no idea what was going to happen when it overcame him. But he knew the only thing that would hold him together, the only thing keeping him together now, was Remy. What if these people tried to take that away from him? What if they tried to take him away from Remy?
Spencer hadn't even realized that he was starting to make soft, distressed sounds, not until Remy tightened his grip to an almost bruising hold and said "Hush, petit. Y' trust me?"
"Yes." That was an easy one; he didn't even have to think about it.
To try and keep from freaking out again, he decided that he wasn't going to focus on any of that other stuff. Instead he focused himself solely on Remy. On the grip that held him, the lithe body that moved in front of him. Nothing else. Not the people watching, or the friends back somewhere behind him, or the friend lying back there in that hospital. Not sweet Emily, lying there on the ground with Derek kneeling beside her holding her hand. Not that piece of wood protruding from her, or all the blood that was all around. Not the marks he'd seen on her, the signs of the struggle she'd put up, signs of where Doyle had hurt her. No, he wasn't going to think of any of that. No, no, no.
Air seemed to be hard to draw in. Spencer felt it catching in his chest, that heavy feeling back once more and stealing away what little air he got. The world seemed darker at the edges, hazy almost, and his mind was throwing up the images at him that he didn't want to see, causing him to retreat more just to try and avoid having to see them. The rest of the world was beginning to fade away.
Something came from nearby that sounded like a curse. All of a sudden Spencer felt sharp points of pain stab down into his wrist. He jerked hard, a hiss slipping past his lips, and his vision cleared the slightest bit. He found Remy right there in front of him, their faces just inches apart. When had they stopped? When had Remy gotten so close? He saw Remy's lips moving and knew he should be listening to it. But he couldn't hear anything over the sound of his own heartbeat and his gasping breaths.
The pain came back again, sharper this time, and a small part of Spencer idly noted that one part of it broke skin a little. Then there was more pain, a hand fisting in his hair and yanking his head back so hard his eyes watered. It threw him off balance and he fell forward, which was just what Remy wanted. He landed against Remy's chest and the wrist that Remy held was twisted and jerked up his back while the other hand still gripped tightly in his hair. Spencer's whole weight was trusted over to Remy's hold, their bodies pressed together close. He panted past the pain—the glorious, wonderful pain—and stared up into a pair of glowing eyes. "Do I got y'r attention now, petit?" Remy snarled at him.
Spencer's voice seemed to have dried up and nodding was almost impossible with his head wrenched back like this. Whatever sound it was he managed to make must've been enough of an answer for Remy, though. "Good. I aint fond of being ignored."
"Remy, what the hell do you think you're doing?" A man's voice demanded off to the side.
Neither man paid any attention to it. Remy bent his head lower so that the world except for Remy's face seemed to fade away. "I'm gonna let y' go here in a minute, petit, and y'r gonna get y'r ass in de passenger's seat of de car. We're gonna go and drop mes amis off at deir hotel and den we're gonna go home. Until den, I want y' focusing on me, y' hear?" The hand in Spencer's hair tightened into a claw, scratching across his scalp and making him whimper at the sharp edge of it all. Remy took a small step back, pulling Spencer with him and effectively pulling him off balance even more. The pain he was feeling sharpened the world just as it always did. Sounds, smells, sights, touch, all of it was sharper and clearer. The pained sounds Spencer made seemed to please Remy. He looked down into Spencer's dilated eyes and smirked. "Dat's it, petit. T'ink about what I'm gonna do fo' y'. T'ink about how I make y' feel, how I make y' fly. Can y' do dat? Can y' be m' good little boy?"
This time there was no doubt that the sounds Spencer made were an affirmative. He could do it. He gladly let himself fall down into that deep space in his mind where pleasing Remy was the most important thing to him and he let that wash away everything else.
His obedience earned him a hard, biting kiss that bordered on violent, and now he was panting for an entirely different reason. But the kiss abruptly cut off and Spencer found himself brought back steady on his feet. The hold on his wrist and in his hair was released. The minute he was free, Spencer scrambled over to the car and hurried around to get into the passenger's seat, just as he'd been told.
Remy watched him go and ached a little inside. What he'd done would be enough to get Spencer back home, if they were lucky, but he doubted it would last much longer than that. He was too on edge, his emotions too immense, and if there was anyone who understood how hard it was for Spencer to deal with emotions, it was Remy. He'd provided Spencer with a safe outlet for the emotions he couldn't handle countless times now.
A hand grabbed Remy's arm, yanking him around and breaking his view of Spencer. He turned and found Scott Summers standing there looking absolutely furious. "What the hell was that?" The man hissed at him. "You're lucky Logan held me back. I should've laid you out flat for treating someone like that."
It didn't really surprise him to find this kind of response. None of them knew the kind of relationship he had with Spencer. They didn't know the genius and his needs. But unlike Spencer, Remy had absolutely no shame about what he felt or what he did. He didn't have a problem telling Scott exactly what was going on. "I gave him exactly what he needed." He tugged, yanking his arm out of Scott's grip. "I know dat look on his face. He was getting lost in his memories and dat's a dangerous t'ing fo' him. So I gave him what he needed to get outta dem."
"By almost ripping his hair out of his head?" Scott demanded.
"If dat's what it takes." Remy fired back. "He needs de pain to help him focus and anchor in reality. If dat's what he needs, den dat's what I'll give him. I take care of what's mine and dat boy is mine. Now, I'm gonna go get in dat car with him before he starts falling apart again cause I aint dere. If y' want a ride to y'r hotel, den get in. If not, den walk fo' all I care. I got more important t'ings to worry about right now dan y'r delicate sensibilities."
He got into the car not a moment too soon. One look was all it took for him to see just how jittery Spencer was getting. While the other three people loaded into the backseat, Remy braced one hand on the wheel and turned himself at the same time that he reached out with his other hand and caught Spencer's chin in his fingers. He gave him another of those hard kisses that always made Spencer melt and he nodded in satisfaction when he pulled back and saw that some of the tension that had built had melted away once more. Good. He just needed Spencer to make it back to the condo. Once in there, he'd be free to let out what was burning around inside of him. There was something wild in there, something that Remy had never quite seen in his boy before, and a voice inside told him to get Spencer to the most secure location possible before it finally broke free.
The ride to the hotel was done in complete silence. When Remy finally pulled up and the others were climbing out, Scott tried to say something and Jean looked like she was desperate to speak up, but Logan shooed them forward and gave Remy an understanding look. He'd known about Remy having himself a boy, though he hadn't known who, and he understood what was important right now. "Go," He told Remy gruffly. "Handle your boy. I got them."
Remy acknowledged that with a grateful nod. "Merci."
The ride to the condo was just as quiet as the ride to the hotel, for at least half the trip. They were almost there and Spencer had relaxed quite a bit more already just from them being alone, when the genius finally found his voice again. "How did you know?" He asked hoarsely.
There was no need to ask what he meant. Remy took the next turn and used the time to slant a look at his partner. "Y'r not m' only contact at de Bureau, Spencer. I got someone who keeps me informed of de important t'ings. Y've become one of dose important t'ings." That person had called Remy while he'd been riding down the road to go find some dinner with Logan, Scott and Jean, and all he'd been able to tell Remy was that there'd been some kind of accident and one of Spencer's teammates was in the hospital and that it looked grim. Judging by the state Spencer had been in when Remy had arrived, there was no need to ask how it had turned out. He had a damn good clue.
"You're keeping tabs on me?"
Remy didn't even pretend to be ashamed. "Y'r mine, aint y'? I look out fo' what's mine."
He saw the flush fill Spencer's cheeks and glimpsed the pleased expression before it was obscured by a screen of hair.
The rest of the ride was finished in silence. But now Remy could feel the tension coming back. He could feel that edge to Spencer's emotions building stronger and stronger. It prompted him to drive a little faster. Once there, he hurried Spencer out of the car and inside the building. All he had to do was get him that last little bit inside, just up to the condo and through the front door, and then they were home free. They'd be in the sanctuary that Remy had created just for them. He had a feeling the night might be spent in the playroom, and not because of the toys in there, but because it was the only room in there that was soundproofed. Spencer was going to need some place to let out this grief and there was no telling how it was going to come out.
Remy had thought he'd prepared himself for how Spencer might react when they got inside. Of course, he should've known better. Spencer always seemed to surprise him with his reactions to things. He definitely did now. The minute they were through the front door, he grabbed hold of Remy and practically climbed onto him and Remy found himself in a desperate kiss. Spencer was like an octopus, arms and legs wrapping around Remy, clinging tightly to him. Remy could barely get the door shut behind him and the lock flipped.
It wasn't the first time that Spencer had ever climbed onto him this way. Remy had encouraged it more than once. He loved that passionate side of his Spencer. But never before had it been done with this frantic, panicked edge to it. There was the usual need, yes, but it was tainted by panic. His kisses were just a little too forced, a little too desperate, and there was no pleasure being gained from it. Spencer wasn't doing this because it was what he wanted or needed. He was just doing it because it was what he thought he needed, or what he thought he was going to get. Because it was the only way he knew how to deal with the immense emotions that boiled inside of him. He had no idea whatsoever how to safely let those emotions out on his own. There were so many times that Remy wanted to curse every person who had ever left their scar inside Spencer. Every time they were together, Remy felt like was battling against the specters of Spencer's past, the ones that had made him feel unloved, unwanted, or wrong and perverted. The ones who had made him feel like he was nothing, worthless, only useful for his brain and nothing more.
Remy knew Spencer was going to take what he was about to do the wrong way. Still, it was the right thing to do. Strong hands grasped at Spencer's face and forcibly pulled him back, breaking the desperate kiss. "No, Spencer." Remy said firmly. His body was arguing with him, telling him that what Spencer had been doing was fucking fantastic, but his brain knew better, as did his heart. Those were what he led with now. He hardened his resolve and started to untangle Spencer from him. "No, petit, no. Dat's not what we're doing."
"Isn't it?" Spencer purred in a voice that was low and sexy and oh so wrong. There was nothing of the lustful man that Remy knew existed in there. This voice was cold and careful. A mask.
"No." He finally got Spencer untangled and set him on his feet. "It aint. Dis aint what y' need right now."
All of a sudden the sultry mask Spencer wore faded away and temper was there, twisting his features. "Oh, is that so? And I suppose you think you can tell me what it is I need better than I can?" Sarcasm dripped off the words like venom.
Just like that, the nice Spencer was replaced with the Spencer that didn't often make an appearance—the angry one. In the past year, Remy had only seen Spencer get truly angry—not fake angry, or just plain mad, but snarling, swearing, words like venom, violently pissed—twice. Even then, the anger had simply been a cover for something else, just as it was now. There was no telling quite what he'd do when he got like this. He was dangerous not only to those around him, but more importantly to Remy, he was dangerous to himself, and Remy braced himself to do whatever he had to. Though he knew his words would only piss Spencer off more, no matter what he said, he still made himself answer the man. "Right now I can, oui."
Fury crossed Spencer's face. "Fuck you." He spat out. His whole body was shaking and his hands had curled into fists. Temper was just rolling off of him, fueled by the pain and grief that Remy kept catching glimpses of. "I don't need this and I definitely don't need you. If you won't give me what I want I'm sure there's someone out there who will."
The fact that Spencer actually said that instead of just trying to walk out was a clear sign that he didn't mean a word of it. He knew there was no way Remy was going to let him out of here like this, and no way in hell he'd let him go out hunting for someone else. Whether he realized it or whether he was subconsciously doing it, Spencer was asking to be taken in hand, and Remy had no problems doing it. He stepped forward right as Spencer moved and he quickly placed himself between Spencer and the front door. "I don't t'ink so, petit." He said firmly.
Flashing brown eyes looked up at him and there was defiance and anger there, but there was also a well of pain hidden in those depths that reached out to Remy. Spencer's voice, though, was sharp and furious, his words almost hissing from him. "Get the hell out of my way."
"Non." Remy said simply.
He was braced for it when Spencer tried to dart around him. Lightning fast, he caught his boy and yanked him back. And just like that, all hell broke loose.
If he'd thought Spencer had fought him before back in the parking lot, he knew better now. Spencer held absolutely nothing back now. He fought like his very life depended on getting free. The only thing that saved Remy from catching more hits than he did was that Spencer was fighting with no finesse. Even so, there were a few blows that connected that Remy knew would leave bruises. Especially when they overbalanced and toppled together down to the floor. Remy twisted just enough that he took the brunt of the impact, using it as well to get Spencer closer. Being on the ground actually made it all easier. It only took a few moments before Remy got his grip just right and then he was flipping them over and pinning Spencer down to the ground. He didn't use any special hold, didn't hold him down in any way that might allow Spencer to hurt himself in his efforts to get free. There were countless holds he could use but with the frantic way that Spencer was fighting, this was Remy's best chance. He simply caught Spencer's wrists and then bear hugged the man from behind so that Spencer's arms were crossed over his chest. Then he just held on for dear life and rode out the mad bucking and twisting from the slender body under his.
Spencer twisted and fought and swore so loudly at him that Remy wondered if someone was going to call the cops on them. But he didn't try to say anything to stop him. None of his words would get through right now, he knew. He just held on tighter and waited for it to end.
"Let go of me!" Spencer shrieked at him. He bucked hard, the back of his head just narrowly missing Remy's nose. "Just! Let! Me! Go!"
"Non." Tucking his head down so that his face was safely hidden against the side of Spencer's neck, he pressed a kiss against the sweaty skin.
"Just let me go! Dammit, why won't you let me go?"
"I aint letting y' go, not ever. Y' aint leaving and neither am I."
That seemed to make Spencer struggle harder. "Liar!" He screamed, hitting a note that had Remy wincing. Spencer's legs kicked back and Remy just barely managed to use his body weight to pin them down.
Their position was like some parody of a sexual position. Spencer was on wide spread knees, bent forward, with Remy behind him. Remy was on his knee as well, his shoved between Spencer's widespread legs to keep him off balance. He had his arms around Spencer's chest, still clutching at his wrists, and he'd pulled Spencer back so the man was essentially straddling his lap, that delicious backside of his tucked right up against Remy's hips. Any other time and it'd be a completely dirty moment for them. A perfect position for some fun. But this wasn't the time for that and that was the furthest thought from either of their minds. Remy tightened his grip and bent forward more, keeping his weight over Spencer to keep him from breaking free.
"Why don't' you just leave me alone?" Spencer spat out at him, still twisting and bucking to try and find some way to break out of this grip. His movements were frantic and jerky and Remy could tell he was close to breaking completely. A little more pain was leaking into his words. "Why don't you just leave, just like everyone else?"
The ache in Remy's heart grew even more. He gathered his strength and used it to pull Spencer impossibly closer. "I aint leaving y', Spencer Reid. I'm right here. Feel me, feel m' arms holding y'. I'm right here wit' y'." I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever, little one.
A sound that was half laugh, half sob ripped from Spencer. "Everyone leaves! They always leave me. You'll do it too, you'll see! They! Always! Leave!" He punctuated each word there with a hard jerk. And then the first sob broke free.
What came next was something that Remy knew he would never forget. The grief and pain that poured from Spencer was heartrending to experience. The deep, gut wrenching sobs, the broken words that made no real sense, the desperate way that he now clutched at Remy, no longer trying to get free but trying to keep Remy as close as possible. Even knowing that this was what Spencer needed—that he would, in fact, be better for it in the long run—it was still agonizing for Remy to have to witness. He did the only thing he could; he held Spencer tightly in his embrace and rode it out with him. And when the sobs finally died away, when the tense body slumped down in Remy's arm with no more strength left to hold it up, he was still there holding on to him, keeping his boy together.
Still, Remy said nothing. He just held him and waited. Spencer had given no indication that he was ready to move yet.
After a few long moments of silence, broken only by the occasional sob or a softly hiccupped breath, Spencer final spoke. "She's gone, Remy. Emily…Emily's gone."
The soft words were so full of grief. Remy nuzzled in at the skin of Spencer's neck and pressed another light kiss there. "Désolé, Spencer. I'm so sorry."
"She ran to protect us, so he wouldn't hurt us, and he killed her." His voice got even quieter, just a whisper, and it quavered slightly on his next words. "I didn't get to say goodbye. Everyone leaves me without saying goodbye."
"I'm here wit' y', petit." Remy reassured him, knowing his words weren't enough yet unable to offer anything else. "I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."
Spencer had been quiet for a long bit when he finally spoke again in this soft, scared little-boy voice that tugged at Remy's heart. "I really, really want to get high right now."
High? He wanted to get high? Never once, in any of the times they'd gotten together, he Spencer ever mentioned drug use. Remy fought to reign in his shock. That was something that could be asked about later. Later, when Spencer was back in his normal frame of mind, capable of choosing whether or not he actually wanted to answer. Remy firmed his voice and tightened his arms ever so slightly. "Yeah, well, dat aint happening, petit."
A shudder ran through Spencer, followed by a slight lessening in the tension in him. He seemed to slump a little more in Remy's arms. In an even softer voice than before, so soft Remy almost didn't hear it, Spencer whispered "Thank you."
Oh, baby. Remy closed his eyes against the prickling of tears that was building there. So much pain, so much trouble, all packed into one slender body. It just didn't seem fair. Well, Remy knew he couldn't fix everything that was wrong for his aching boy, but he could help some of it. He gently slid his hands up Spencer's arms and to his shoulders, rubbing at them lightly. "C'mon, petit. Let's get y' up off dis floor."
There was no fight left in Spencer. He didn't resist at all as Remy carefully got him upright. The only time he showed any sign of protest was when Remy made a small move away from him. A low whimper broke free and Spencer's whole body seemed to twitch. Immediately Remy pulled him in close, tucking him against his side, and he felt Spencer's arms slip around his waist. "Shh." Remy soothed him, stroking a hand down his back. "I aint going nowhere. I'm right here, I told y'. I'm here and I'm gonna take care of y', petit. I'm gonna take care of y' now."
Almost four hours had gone by since they'd first come home and Remy found himself sitting in his bedroom window. It was a familiar position for him, seated in his window with the night air rushing over him, a cigarette at his lips. He flicked his lighter and puffed the cigarette to life, that first hit of nicotine like Heaven for him. He curled one leg up, resting his foot on the sill, and let the other leg hang negligently out the window, heedless of the long drop below. He'd made sure he sat facing in the right direction so that he could still see his bed and the sleeping form in it. That was the most important thing. Though Spencer was now sleeping, there was no telling how long it would last.
His lips curved a little as he watched Spencer roll towards the empty spot on the bed and nuzzle up against Remy's pillow. Spencer's eyes still held that puffy look from all the tears he'd cried and yet he still looked as beautiful as ever. Si beau. How the hell had he ended up so damn lucky to have someone like Spencer in his bed? He was perfect in so many ways. Everything a man could want in a partner. Their tastes seemed to mesh perfectly. Spencer still seemed a little unsure sometimes, as if he didn't quite know how to handle someone that wanted to see him for more than one round. Little did he realize Remy had no plans of letting him go, ever. Spencer had a hard time believing anyone would stick around.
After today, Remy had a bigger understanding as to why.
When he'd gotten Spencer up from the ground after his breakdown in the living room, the first thing Remy had done was take his partner back to the bathroom. There he'd filled the tub with water and he'd carefully and lovingly stripped Spencer out of his clothes before shedding his own and together they'd climbed into the tub. Remy had kept Spencer cradled between his legs and he took care of him just like he did after a particularly intense session. He'd held him there and washed him, and he'd listened as Spencer had brokenly told him about the events of the night. Then he'd held Spencer and listened until the water ran cold as his younger lover told him about all the people in his life who had simply walked away. He'd listened as Spencer had cried and asked Remy what it was about him that made him so easy to just leave behind. Why everyone, even his own father, just walked away from him. Remy got a glimpse at the broken boy inside of Spencer and some of the things that had happened to make him that way. He understood a little more why Spencer seemed to always be watching, waiting for the moment that Remy would have enough and walk away, and why he seemed to have such a hard time believing that he was actually wanted. It left Remy wanting to go out and beat the ever loving hell out of some of these bastards in Spencer's life who had thought nothing of just walking away from someone so wonderful, so beautiful, without even having the courtesy to say goodbye.
Once Spencer's words had dried up and the water had turned cold, the two had come back here to the bedroom and Remy had continued to care for him. He'd dried Spencer off from head to toe with the soft towels he knew that Spencer loved. The man was a little hedonist, whether he'd admit it or not, and he had quite a thing for something soft against his skin. Remy had noticed that early on and he'd purchased a few items because of it. Softer towels, softer sheets. He enjoyed seeing Spencer's enjoyment out of them each time they were used.
There'd been no sex tonight. That wasn't what Spencer had needed. What he'd needed was the caring. Someone to help hold him together as he broke apart and to care for him while he couldn't care for himself. That was what Remy gave him, even if it may not have looked like it to others. Remy gave Spencer what Spencer needed, not what someone else thought he should have. He tucked him into the bed so that he was comfortable, and he locked his boy's wrists into his favorite pair of shackles, which were hooked into the O-ring at the head of the bed, so that he could feel secure. Spencer needed the security that those provided him right now. Remy could see it in the way that Spencer sighed and most of his tension drained away the minute Remy locked the cuffs to each other so there would be no way for him to be able to pick them—a measure Remy had learned in the past was necessary, if Spencer was feeling mischievous or playful. He did it now as a silent way of letting Spencer know that there was no way he was getting free, which was exactly what the genius needed.
Then he'd laid there with him to hold him close while he stroked and soothed his boy down into sleep. Even once Spencer was asleep, Remy had stayed there, continuing to hold him until he was absolutely sure that Spencer was out. Only then had he climbed out of bed and slipped over here to the window to smoke and try and relax his own self. Grief for Spencer was in him still, as well as anger for those that had hurt him, and he wanted to burn those out before Spencer woke again so that he'd be able to be the strength his boy needed.
Remy was almost finished with his cigarette when a ringing sound interrupted the quiet of the room. It was a familiar ringtone, one that Remy had helped Spencer put on his phone so they'd be able to recognize it no matter what they were doing and know to stop. Though not all calls that came in to Spencer's phone were to call him for work, they were generally important and so anytime his phone rang, they would stop what they were doing so Spencer could answer it.
Not tonight, though. Spencer wasn't up for talking to anyone tonight and if they had a case they wanted to take him out on, they could just go to hell. Remy snatched up the phone before the ringing could wake Spencer up and he quickly said "Dr. Reid's phone, Remy speaking." He kept his voice low and shot a glance over to the bed to make sure that Spencer was still out. Good, he was. The ringing hadn't woken him. Satisfied, Remy carried the phone back over to the window with him so he could settle in once more.
"Where's Reid?" the voice on the phone demanded.
Slipping back into his seat, Remy looked over at the bed again, his eyes running over the lean body that was just barely tucked underneath a sheet. Remy kept the bedroom rather warm for his own preferences and for Spencer's as well. The both of them chilled easily at night. Keeping it warm like this allowed Remy to enjoy seeing Spencer in nothing more than a sheet that left little to the imagination. "He's sleeping right now. Unless it's really important, why don't y' give me y'r name and I'll let him know dat y' called?" Because there was no way he was going to wake Spencer up unless he absolutely had to. Sleep was what Spencer needed most right now. The only reason Remy had even bothered to answer the phone instead of just silencing it was that he wanted to make sure that it wasn't actually something extremely important.
"No. Let me talk to him. I want to make sure for myself that he's okay."
A scowl touched Remy's face. The angry voice and the demanding words gave him a pretty good guess as to who it was on the other end of the line. "Y' must be Morgan."
"SSA Derek Morgan. And I want to speak to my friend."
Cocky, arrogant bastard. Remy flicked his cigarette ashes out the window and fought back the swell of temper. Still, some of it slipped free. "Figured it had to be y'. Y'r de demanding best friend dat keeps knocking Spencer down just cause he likes t'ings y' don't approve of."
"And you're the fucked up bastard that beats the hell out of a member of my family." Derek shot back in a harsh voice. "It was you tonight who came and took him away, wasn't it? What've you done to him? He was in pain! He doesn't need you there beating on him and making it worse!"
How dare he? Remy's short fuse ignited under that callous remark. "Y' aint got any damn clue what y'r talking about." Remy snarled out furiously. How the hell could someone be so damn stupid? "It aint about sex right now, couillon. What kind of person do y' t'ink I am? Sex aint what he's after right now and it sure as hell aint what he needs, an neither is any of de other stuff. Dis whole t'ing between him and I aint all about pain. I'm not planning on beating de man black and blue. Merde! I've been taking care of him. Dat's what I do! I take care of him in any way dat he needs."
"What he needs is to be with his friends and family right now. What he needs it to be around people who understand and who can help him through this."
Remy looked at the man sleeping in his bed and he wondered how someone could claim to be his best friend, his family, and understand him so little. He opened his mouth to snap something else, something he might've actually regretted later, when the sound of movement from the bed caught his attention. He looked quickly over and saw that Spencer was still asleep but he was starting to shift around in the bed and there was a furrow between his eyebrows that hadn't been there before. Remy charged his cigarette and flicked it out the window so it exploded with a small pop and then he quickly moved over to the bed to stroke a hand over Spencer's hair, smoothing it back from his face. "Shh, shh, petit." He murmured, bending down to press a kiss against Spencer's hair. "It's all right. Go back to sleep." He extended just a tiny bit of charm, something he didn't usually use when they were together, and he watched Spencer settle back down into sleep.
Once he was sure he was out, he drew the charm back in and pulled back. He moved back over to the window, remembering abruptly that he was still holding the phone to his ear, which meant that Derek had just heard him soothing Spencer back down. After a brief second Remy decided that he didn't care. Let the man hear. Let him hear that this wasn't all about pain like he seemed to think.
That little moment of soothing Spencer had helped to soothe Remy again. When he sat once more in his window, he was much calmer than he'd been and he chose his next words much more carefully. They were important; this was the one chance he was going to get away from Spencer to say something to Derek. He wanted to make sure that what he said counted. "I got somet'ing I wanna say to y' here, Derek Morgan, and I want y' to listen very carefully to me. If it weren't fo' Spencer, I wouldn't even bother, mais y' mean de world to him and dis t'ing between y', it hurts him .Dat's de only reason I'm doing dis. Will y' listen?"
There was a moment in which Remy wasn't sure what Derek would say. But finally he said a simple "Yes"
"Merci." Drawing a deep breath, Remy looked at the man on his bed and he used that image to help him find just the right words to say. This was important. It was for Spencer, and Remy had to get it right. "I understand dat in y'r line of work, y've seen a lot of hellish t'ings. Spencer's told me some of de t'ings y've seen out dere dat people will do to one another. I can understand why seeing all dat might make y' hesitant about a lifestyle like ours. Mais it aint all like what y've seen. Instead of judging us and what we do by what y've seen on de job, try judging it off of what Spencer says to y'. Open y'r mind and y'r ears and listen to what he tells y'. All he wants is your understanding. Y' aint gotta approve, but it would mean de world if y' even tried to understand. Otherwise, y'r gonna rip him apart, and y'r gonna lose him. It hurts him worse dan any beating I could give him each time y' judge him."
"I wasn't trying to hurt him." Derek's voice was much softer now. The sharper edge to it had faded away. "I just, I don't understand. How on earth can he want something like this? It isn't healthy."
"Y' should try doing a lil research, look into de lifestyle, and den come and talk to us. We'll answer any questions dat y' have."
"We? You too?"
"Mais oui." Remy said. "I told y', I want what makes him happy. If dat means answering some questions, it's a small price to pay." Lowering his voice, Remy added "Just, give it a bit of time, first. Let him get past dis. Y'all are grieving right now and de last t'ing y' need is to go over dis. Put it all aside fo' a while and just be dere fo' each other as amis. De rest will still be waiting."
When he and Derek hung up, Remy knew he'd left the other man with a lot to think about. He only hoped that it would all work. It would devastate Spencer to have to push his best friend away, especially after the loss of Emily, but if Derek continued on this way, that was exactly what was going to happen. Well, he'd done his best to try and help put things on the road to being fixed. He could only hope his words had been enough.
Remy took one last deep breath of the night air and then he climbed out of the window and shut it. He stripped himself as he made his way over to the bed so that by the time he climbed in, he was completely bare. Skin brushed against skin as Remy spooned up behind Spencer's body and wrapped around him. Spencer was in a ball in the middle of the bed, his cuffed hands right in front of his face. Remy had left enough slack in the line so that Spencer would be able to curl up some as he'd known he would need. It warmed him that when he spooned up, Spencer immediately snuggled back, fitting himself perfectly into the curve of Remy's body.
He'd have to deal with his friends come morning time, Remy knew. Scott and Jean would have a ton of questions. But for now, Remy pushed all of that aside and he curled himself tightly around the man who had somehow managed to make himself the very center of Remy's world. Everything else could wait. Spencer needed him right now and for Remy, there was nothing more important.