Watching the Mayor of New York City give a speech about the 'mutant threat' wasn't exactly Spencer's idea of a good time. As he strolled around the edge of the crowd and listened to the speech of a bigoted man who spouting piles of absolute garbage, he tried to keep himself from getting annoyed with both the man and the people around him. Considering the speech the Mayor was giving, the crowd that came out to watch him was full of anti-mutant people who'd like nothing more than to see every mutant banished from the face of the earth. Or, at the least, their city. And it was these judgmental bastards that the X-men were here today to protect. Rallies like this always drew out the extremists, those like Magneto and his group who wanted to make a point, who wanted to protest the anti-mutant movement, even if their methods only served to create more fear of mutantkind. So, to stop that from happening, the X-Men were here today to keep this group safe.
Spencer smothered a snort over that. Like Logan had said earlier, "How's that for a kick in the ass? They'd shoot us as soon as look at us and we're here keeping their dumb asses alive. Somehow that doesn't seem quite right."
Still, it was what they had to do. Spencer knew that what they were doing was important. If they didn't protect these people, then some of them would get hurt and all mutants would get the blame for it. And idiots or not, these people didn't deserve to get hurt. Didn't mean he had to like it, though.
He wasn't the only one. "Say again why we doin' dis?" Remy's annoyed voice came over the com. He wasn't far away, Spencer knew. The last he'd seen of his husband, he was only about fifty feet off to the right, over near the coffee stand.
"You know why, Gambit. Quit whining." Scott said dryly. "Now, Alpha team, check in."
The man was so serious sounding. It made Spencer smile a little. He ducked around the pole he was near and twisted to once more scan the crowd in front of him while he listened to 'Alpha team' check in. Jean's voice came first, letting Scott know that she and her area were clear. Next was Warren, Bobby, Rogue and Ororo.
"Beta team, check in." Scott called once his team was clear.
"All clear over here." Spencer chimed in. Next was Remy's voice, giving his all clear, followed by Logan, Jubilee, Piotr, and Kitty.
"So, I know we're supposed to keep these idiots from being killed and all." Kitty chimed in, once her check was done. "But what about, like, a little maiming? I mean, people don't really need two legs to walk, right? I'm sure they'd still be able to live a happy and fulfilling life bashing mutants just the same as they've always done."
A low groan came over the coms that Spencer just knew came from Scott. Before the Field Leader could get a chance to voice whatever protests he had, Logan's spoke up first. "A bit bloodthirsty today, girl?" He sounded oddly pleased by that.
"Shadowcat's right." Remy said, his smirk easy to hear in his voice. "A broken leg, a few bruises, even a little maiming—dey'd still be alive. Dat's all we're supposed to do, right? Just keep 'em alive."
"Why do I continue to be disturbed by you all?" Warren asked dryly.
Spencer chuckled, ignoring the strange look it earned him from the man in front of him. He just gave the guy an apologetic look—no need to antagonize the man who seemed very interested in the Mayor's words—and then he moved around him, going on. His eyes scanned over the crowd and he thought he caught sight of, something. Maybe. "Jubilee, Colossus, northwest corner, about sixty feet back from the light post."
"On it." Jubilee said cheerfully. "You know, I kind of get what Shadowcat and Gambit are saying. I mean, like, I'd totally stop anyone from trying to kill anyone here, but, I don't know. I wouldn't exactly step between them and a fist to the face."
"Not you too, Jubilee!" Jean said. There was laughter tinting her voice, though. "I think you've been spending too much time with Wolverine and Gambit."
"Hey!" Logan grumbled at the same time that Remy said "Why y' blaming po' Gambit fo' dis?"
Piotr's low voice came through the others, briefly breaking into the conversation. "All clear. He's unhappy with the protest, but he's unarmed." He paused briefly and then added, "I don't know, Jubilee. I don't think I'd stand by and let anyone get hurt. However, I would not feel saddened if it happened."
"Tesla." Scott said, addressing Spencer with the idiotic codename he'd been given when he first joined the team. "Control your people?"
The crowd broke a little and Spencer moved towards the back to get a slightly better view. He wasn't all that fond of being in the midst of the crowd and he could better see out here anyways. His eyes found his teammates first, one by one, and then he started to scan the group again, trying to ignore the things the Mayor was saying. "My people?" He repeated. He shook his head quickly even though he knew that none of them could see him. "Oh no, no, no. I've told you, Cyclops, I'm not in charge of anyone. I'm not leading this team. Gambit is." No matter how many times Scott tried to push him to lead this group.
He swore he could hear the grin that Scott was wearing when he smoke again, smug and full of a sass that always seemed so unexpected from their usually stoic field leader. "One of these days you're going to give in and admit who it is who really runs that team."
"Yeah, right. Don't hold y'r breath, cher." Remy drawled out. He looked over from his place in the crowd and held a coffee up Spencer's way in a sort of 'cheers' gesture. When he looked back at the coffee stand and then cocked his head, Spencer nodded. Coffee sounded wonderful. It was chilly out today and his hands were aching a little from it.
"I have him here today, don't I?" Scott asked.
Spencer snorted, the sound traveling easily over the coms. "Only because your wife promised me cake. Chocolate cherry cake."
That set everyone to laughing. Leaning back against a low wall, Spencer smirked a little and very much enjoyed Scott's almost offended "Phoenix? You bribed him with cake?" It was followed almost immediately by "Why don't you offer me cake?"
They all heard the amused sound Jean made. "Because I bribe you with other things, honey."
The teasing that followed was warm and easy. Still, as Spencer watched Remy coming towards him with an extra coffee in hand, he wasn't surprised to hear Scott corral everyone once more. "All right, guys, let's calm down." He said firmly, using his 'leader' voice. "We need to try and keep the chatter to a minimum. We've got solid intelligence that there's a real threat coming here today and we need to be on our toes."
The reminder was enough to get people calm and back on subject. They hadn't stopped working while they were teasing, but Scott's reminder had them focusing a bit more intently than they had before. Spencer accepted the coffee from Remy and leaned in to the arm his husband slung around his shoulders. The two looked like a casual couple, Spencer half seated against the low wall, his head propped up against Remy's shoulders while they drank their coffees. They looked like any other two people watching the Mayor speak. No one would've guessed they were there to watch the crowd; there to keep them all safe.
Something caught Spencer's attention off to his right at almost the same time that Rogue spoke over the coms. "Tesla, Gambit, hundred yards to your right, behind the building. I can't quite see what it is but something seems off about them."
"On it." Remy murmured.
The two pushed off of the wall, never breaking their hold on each other. Remy kept his arm around Spencer's shoulders and they casually strolled around the edge of the group and off towards the building that Rogue had indicated, the one that Spencer had thought he'd seen something near. It wasn't until they rounded the corner that they came upon anything. Four kids stood there, just teenagers, and Spencer smothered down the sigh that wanted to slip free. Why was it always kids? Young, impressionable teenagers, full of all that teenaged angst just waiting for someone to channel one direction or another. It wasn't hard to guess which directions these kids had gone.
One of them was an obvious mutant, with light green skin, and other was pretty easy to tell when you looked closer and saw the curve of fangs in her mouth. The other two were either human, or they could pass as human.
"Well look what we found here, cher." Remy said easily as he and Spencer stopped just around the corner, out of the sight of the Mayor's stage and the watching crowd. Leaning a bit more against Spencer, he took a sip off his coffee and smiled easily, like this was just some easy conversation they were all having, not one that had the potential to devolve into trouble if they were right. "What're a couple'a nice kids like y' doin' hanging out at a rally like dis?"
"None of your business." The fanged girl snapped at him. Her gaze was already angry and her body language was showing she was pumped full of anger and adrenaline.
Everything about the group radiated the trouble they were here for. Spencer looked them over and knew that they weren't just here by chance, nor to just watch. They were here for trouble. He took a drink off his own coffee and watched through his bangs as the green skinned one leaned back ever so slightly from the others. Hm. Interesting. Whatever they were planning here, this one at least wasn't entirely comfortable with it. Either that or he wasn't comfortable with being rude to what he might consider 'civilians'.
"Now, now, now, dere aint no call to be rude." Pulling his arm off Spencer, Remy held his hands out in a peaceful gesture and took a small step that put him just slightly in front of Spencer. Overprotective fool. "We just wanna talk."
One of the two boys that looked human took a step forward as well and he watched Remy with just a hint of caution. "Yeah, well, we don't wanna talk to you, so buzz off, old man."
Ah, the bravado of youth. Spencer gave a low hum of amusement that earned him a quick glare from the Cajun. Taking pity on him, Spencer moved to stand at Remy's side once more. Talking to people in situations like this had always been Spencer's strong suit, one of the things that Scott insisted made him leader potential. "We're not here to fight with you." He told them as he moved into view. His voice was calm, steady, as non-threatening as he could make it. "My partner's right—we just want to talk. I know what you're here for, what you hope to accomplish. I know what you want to do today. I can't blame you, really."
"How would you know what we want?" The girl growled out.
"You want to stop him." Spencer said. "You, just like the rest of us, want to stop these kinds of speeches from happening. That man out there, all those people listening and cheering for him, they piss you off and you just want to stop them."
"But dis aint de way to go about it." Remy interjected smoothly. He and Spencer had worked together so many times, it was easy for them to do this, the little back and forth between them.
"What would you have us do?" The green-skinned man asked. There wasn't accusation in his voice, or anger, but a resignation that was almost worse somehow. "Just stand back and take it? Do nothing? Let them talk about mutants like they're trash?"
Spencer shook his head. "No, of course not. We're not trying to tell you that you have to listen to this garbage. Mutants deserve equal rights. Neither one of us are going to deny that. But attacking the Mayor at an anti-mutant rally? The only thing that's going to do is show the world that they're right to fear us. That they're right when they call us monsters. If we go after them like this, with violence, it only hurts our cause in the long run. It only proves every bad thing they say about us right. Is that what you want? Do you want them to see us as monsters? Or do you want to really make a difference? To truly change things? Because this right here, that you have planned? This is not the way."
"You tell em, kid." Logan murmured over the coms.
There were a few low "Amen" that came from the other members of the team, as well as Scott's soft, "And he tries to claim he can't lead."
Spencer ignored them all for now and focused on the kids in front of him. He had his hands ready, the telekinetic energy he commanded just waiting to be called on. He watched the four teens draw towards one another in a quick, whispered conversation that could easily go in either direction right then. It wasn't until he felt Remy start to relax a little beside him that knew which way things were going to go. Sure enough, a second later the green-skinned boy looked up at them. "What are we supposed to do, then? If not this, then what?"
The tension drained out of Spencer. Slowly, he released his hold on the power inside of him, and when he smiled at them it was wide and easy. "There's a place you can go, if you really want to make a difference." He told them. "If you're serious about this, if you truly want to help, there's someone I think you should meet…"
During the rest of the rally they only encountered one other group. The Alpha team handled it, though, and soon enough things were calm once more. Then the rally slowly started to break up and people started to head home or back to their jobs or wherever it was they needed to go. The X-Men stayed around long enough to make sure that the Mayor got safely away. Only then did they start to prepare to go home themselves.
Now that things were safe, they were all relaxing even more. Remy, with his arm once more around Spencer's shoulders, pulled his husband in close to kiss the side of his head as they made their way over to the rest of the team. "We did good t'day, mon amour. Another connard safe, thanks to us."
Spencer laughed and slipped his arm around Remy's waist. It was easy and comfortable for him to be here, pressed up against his side. Really it was one of Spencer's favorite places to be. He always felt so safe and easy when he was with Remy. He didn't worry about anything when they were together like this. They kept one another safe and they could relax with each other in ways they could with no one else. The love they had between them was so strong Spencer swore he could feel it wrapping around him like a warm blanket he when he pressed up against Remy. Once again, he thanked whatever existed out there, be it a deity of some kind, fate, chance, luck, whatever it was that had brought this insane, amazing, gorgeous man into his life. Turning his face in a bit, he nuzzled ever so slightly against Remy's shoulder. "I love you." He murmured against his jacket.
"Je t'aime aussi." Remy said immediately. He said it like it was so easy, like one would say the sky was blue, and yet he said it like it was everything, like it was his sole reason for being. Hearing it made Spencer's insides warm the same way they always did each time Remy said it. Riding that feeling, he twisted himself just a little, tipping up enough to silently ask for a kiss that he knew Remy would never deny him.
Unfortunately, his timing was horrible. Right as he pushed up for the kiss, his twist managed to cause them to run right in to a few people he hadn't even noticed. The sent Spencer reeling. Luckily for him Remy had a good grip on him and he kept Spencer on his feet without any trouble whatsoever. His whole face was lit up with amusement as he grinned down at the man in his arms. "Careful dere, mon chou. Y'r gonna knock someone on deir ass—again."
Spencer ignored Remy's teasing dig—a reminder to the one time when Spencer had tripped over his own two feet in the mall and managed to knock himself into a crowd of people and send them all crashing down before Remy had any chance of catching him—and he quickly pushed himself up so that he could turn to look at the person he'd run into, apologies already falling from his lips. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going, but that's no excuse whatsoever. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
The guy that he'd run into was a pretty big looking guy. On closer inspection, Spencer doubted that he could knocked the guy down if he tried. He was close to Spencer in height, with dark skin and the build of someone that worked out regularly. The woman beside him, a pretty and slender woman with black hair, looked like she'd been a little jostled, but she didn't show any signs of having fallen down or anything. They both seemed okay.
Spencer brought his hand up and pushed his hair back from his face, giving yet another mental curse at the haircut he'd earned after losing a bet with Remy. It was what Remy jokingly called emo, or a 'reverse mullet' with the back kept short and the front long. The only good thing about it was that he could hide his face behind the long part if he so wished. It came in handy sometimes. Right now, though, he pushed it out of the way so that he could get a better look at the two people in front of him who were looking at him like they'd seen a ghost. "I'm sorry." He apologized again, wondering if maybe they were more upset than he'd realized, or if there was something else that had them staring at him that way. "I really am. I was just, I was playing around with my husband here and I wasn't looking where I was going when I really should've been. It was all my fault."
"Husband?" The woman said, her wide eyes going right to Remy, who had stepped even closer to Spencer's back the longer that these two stared. At the same time, the dark skinned man sucked in a breath and said the last thing Spencer expected to hear. "Spencer? Is that…is that you?"
Immediately Spencer took a small step backwards. He felt Remy's arm slip around his waist, the flat of his hand coming to rest over Spencer's stomach, and the comfort of the touch soothed him a little. "How do you know my name?"
They looked like he'd slapped them. "You don't recognize us?" The woman asked.
It felt like the air got punched out of him. Spencer stared at them, his hand unconsciously clenching down on Remy's arm, the need to anchor himself on something familiar almost overpowering him. It was only by sheer will that he kept his voice steady at all. "I'm sorry. I think you're mistaken—I have no idea who you are."
The dark skinned man reached out like he was going to grab for Spencer, like he couldn't quite help himself, and in a flash Remy twisted so that side of him that was holding Spencer was back and his other side was forward, that hand held out to either stop the guy or grab his wrist, Spencer wasn't sure which. "Back off, homme." The Cajun snapped. That wasn't his playful voice anymore. That was a voice that was full of warning and threat both.
"Reid." The guy said, his eyes never once breaking away from Spencer. "It's us. Morgan and Prentiss. Derek and Emily. You don't…you don't remember us?"
Remy drew Spencer back just a little more. "He said he aint got any idea who y' are, homme, so back off."
"Rem." Spencer gave Remy's wrist a light squeeze to try and warn him to calm down. At the same time, he couldn't really bring himself to say anything else. To do anything else. All he could do was stare as more people joined these two, two men that Spencer still didn't recognize but who were looking at him the same way as the first two, like just the sight of him was stunning to them. It left a twisting feeling in his stomach that made him feel as if he were going to be sick.
"Is there a problem here?" Another voice asked. This time, though, Spencer recognized who it was. He looked up with no small amount of gratitude in the direction of Scott's voice. It wasn't just the field leader coming towards them. Scott, Jean, and Logan were all coming forward. Where the rest were, Spencer had no idea. Most likely Scott had sent them along somewhere else. But those three came up and moved to stand with Remy and Spencer. Logan came right up to Spencer's side and took up a firm, unmoving stance beside him. It bracketed Spencer between him and Remy and left him feeling just a little safer. It made Remy feel better, too. His grip on Spencer loosened just the slightest bit.
"Who are you?" The dark skinned guy asked. He looked over them all and Spencer could see as he drew himself up. For the first time, Spencer noticed that he was armed. That all four of the strangers were. It only took a second longer to place them, not as cops, but as Feds. These guys were Feds? What the hell were they doing here?
Scott and Jean moved up to Logan's other side while Jean took up by Remy. It made a sort of wall of people between Spencer and these strangers. His family was drawing in around him, protecting him, sheltering him from whatever this was here. "We're his friends." Scott said firmly. "And I'm not sure what's going on here, but I think maybe it's time for you to back off and for us to head home. Rem?"
"Wait!" The woman cried out. She moved away from her friends, her eyes stayed locked on Spencer's face the whole time. There was such sorrow in her face intermixed with joy and grief, it froze him in his tracks. "Wait, please. Just…just talk to us. Just give us five minutes, please. You might not remember us and I don't know why, but we know you. We were, we were close once, all of us. Please, just—just give us five minutes."
The others didn't speak for Spencer. Not even Remy, though Spencer knew that his husband wanted to. That most likely Remy wanted nothing more than to bundle him up and get him far away from here. He was holding Spencer still and he could feel the little tremors that ran through him.
Yet, looking at them, there was only one answer that Spencer could give. "There's a bar about two blocks down with some tables that offer a bit of privacy. We can go there and talk." Maybe they could give him some answers; answers that, until now, he'd been too afraid to try and seek out on his own. Maybe it was time to stop running away and finally face some of the mystery of his past.
It was no surprise that everyone came with them. Spencer was grateful, actually. The presence of the friends that had become family was both comforting and strengthening. Having them around him gave him the courage and strength to go into the bar and to settle down at the table with these strangers who claimed to have once known him. They helped to give Spencer the strength to potentially face a past he'd hidden from for years now.
Their seating at the large table they went to was done very deliberately. Spencer chose the most comfortable spot, a chair that let his back be to the wall and which allowed an open path to the two exits that he could see. He chose it out of habit, knowing that the man who slid down into the chair at his side wouldn't be comfortable sitting anywhere else. Logan took Spencer's other side, with Scott and Jean sitting beside Remy. They took up one side of the two tables that they'd pushed together for this. On the other side sat the four agents. The dark haired woman, she chose the chair right across from him, with the darker man right across from Logan, and the other two men across from Jean and Scott. No one sat on the ends. Like pieces on a playing board, the two groups sat opposite one another, facing down across the expanse of table. It was like some silent game of chess and Spencer had to try not to laugh at that thought.
Spencer had dressed comfortably today for their mission; easy to move in but easy to blend in. Khaki pants, a black button up shirt and the thick brown sweater over it all. Inside now where it was warmer, he pulled the sweater off, as well as the little half gloves that had covered his hands. The sweater he put over the chair. The gloves, Remy took, slipping them into his pocket.
The sight of his hands drew far more attention than he'd expected. "What—what happened to you?" The woman asked. She was staring at his arm, eyes tracing over the blue lines there that ran like veins over his the back of his hands and up into his sleeves. "What are those?"
Well that answered one question that Spencer had always kind of wondered about. Apparently in his life before this, those little lines on his skin hadn't been there. He looked down at them now, absently reaching up to trace one long, thin finger over the line.
All over his body, like a rather insane set of tattoos that he'd been assured were actually not tattoos but were simply a part of his skin, there ran a network of blue lines. They were these thin blue lines like veins that ran over him in strange patterns, even up to his neck. The only face that seemed clear of them was his face. But the lines ran over the rest of him. They looked like veins to him, but that wasn't what they were. "I have them everywhere." He told her, though he knew everyone was listening. "I know they look like it, but they aren't my actual veins, as in the ones that carry blood. They're like an entirely different set, yet they're not really veins. You cut them, they don't bleed any different than any place else. Drawing from one of them doesn't draw anything special. They're just lines of power painted on my skin, essentially, like a physical manifestation of the energy inside of me." He tipped his head up to be able to look at her face. "I didn't have them before?"
She shook her head no. Then, almost hesitantly, "You really don't remember?"
"I don't remember anything." Spencer told them. He looked from one face to the next and saw the grief there, the sorrow, and it made him hurt a little that these people were so obviously grieving a loss, a friendship that he sensed should be important to him—but that he couldn't remember in the slightest. His tone and expression turned just slightly apologetic. "I'm sorry. You say I knew you before and I believe you, I do, but I don't remember you. I don't remember anything before October seventh, four years ago."
"Why don't we get some drinks, first, and make a few introductions." Jean suggested before anyone could really get going. She looked up, catching the eye of a server, and moments later there was a woman there at the table taking drink orders. It amused Spencer a little to realize that Jean had probably used her powers to keep the woman away until now. No one was that good to just keep away a server or call them over with just a look.
While the lady went off to get their drinks, the people across the table started their introductions. The guy at the end, the oldest of them, introduced himself as David Rossi, with the serious one—their leader—introducing himself next as Aaron Hotchner. The woman was Emily Prentiss, and the man beside her Derek Morgan.
Scott handled their introductions, pointing them all out as he went. "I'm Scott and this is my wife, Jean. The one down at the end glaring at you is Logan, you apparently already know Spencer, and this is Spencer's husband, Remy."
"Husband?" Dave said, surprise echoing in his tone.
The look Remy shot him was all sharp edges and a dangerous sort of amusement. "Oui, monsieur. Been married two years dis December. Would've been longer, mais he's a stubborn one."
Amusement warmed Spencer's expression. He looked up at his husband and he knew the ring of blue that sat around his brown eyes would be glowing just slightly as it did when he was emotional, or when he used his powers. "I'm stubborn?" Turning his smile to the others, he jerked his thumb towards Remy. "He proposed to me for the first time one week after I met him and he kept asking me every month until I finally said yes."
"A man's gotta be stubborn to keep up with y'." Remy shot back. Then he grinned and kissed Spencer's hair. "It was worth it."
"I'm sorry." Derek blurted out suddenly, interrupting them. "I just…can we focus here? I'm sorry to sound like a jerk or anything, but I've spent the past five years thinking my best friend, someone who was like my kid brother, was dead, and now I find out that you're living here in New York and you're not only okay, you're happy and married?"
There was anger in his voice, sure, but the pain was what got to Spencer. This man was truly upset. Spencer couldn't say that he blamed him for it, either.
The server returning interrupted them for the moment and there was a bit of quiet as drinks were distributed. It was only when she was gone again that any conversation started back up. Scott had looked down to Spencer while the drinks were being passed out and Spencer had answered the question on his face with a nod. Now that they were settled, their leader started the story that Spencer hadn't ever really had to tell anyone.
"I know what names we gave you, but I'm sure by looking at me that you guys have a pretty good guess who I am." He started out. When they just nodded, he continued. "We found Spencer when my team and I were on a rescue mission. One of our own had been captured during a fight and we tracked them back to a small compound." It had been Remy who'd been captured. Remy who was the first person to exist in Spencer's memories. The first person that he saw. He'd been in the cell right across from Spencer's. When the team had broken in to save him, it had been Remy who'd looked over and seen Spencer curled up in the dark, and he'd been the one to insist that they break him free and bring him along, too. "When we rescued our teammate, we found Spencer there in the building." Scott continued, his words mirroring Spencer's thoughts, the path of his memories. "We got him out of there and brought him back with us. He was…" Here, he hesitated, and Spencer could tell that the eyes behind the sunglasses were darting his way, looking at him in silent question of how much he wanted told here.
Spencer didn't hesitate to pick up the slack. He had no such issue speaking of these things. "I was severely emaciated and bore obvious signs of torture. Not that I remember any of it. I have absolutely no memory before that time. My memories start that day when I woke up and looked out to see Remy lying in the cell across from mine. Before that, it's blank. Nothing."
"There's a telepath that we know, a very strong one, and he's tried to help Spencer over the past four years, but whatever happened to cause his amnesia is too deep for him to fix." Scott said, once more taking up the story. "He had no clue who he was or where he came from. He had nowhere to go; nowhere that he knew to go, so Spencer stayed with us. He's not our first amnesiac on the team." There, he tipped his glass towards Logan ever so slightly, and the feral smirked. Spencer and Logan had bonded over their missing years. There was no one else that Spencer knew who could understand what he felt sometimes quite the way that Logan did.
The man with the hawk like stare—Aaron, Spencer reminded himself—looked at Spencer with a stare that was sharp and left him feeling like the man could see straight down inside of him. It made him shiver just a bit and instinctively lean in towards Remy, who responded by rubbing a hand over his arm and glaring at Aaron. "You didn't every try to run your fingerprints, or go to the authorities to try and find out who you are?"
No, he hadn't. Not once. And he'd never planned on doing so. "I may not remember my life before this, but I know that when I think about it, all I feel is fear." Spencer said. He met the man's stare and tried not to flinch back from it. He wasn't going to let himself be afraid here. He wasn't going to cower before someone he didn't remember, no matter what they were talking about. "It's what I feel when I try to make myself remember. It wakes me up at night sometimes with nightmares full of terror about things that I can't remember once I'm awake." Making a decision, Spencer pushed up his sleeves and held out his hands, letting them all see his hands and his arms. He heard the soft gasps from more than a few mouths when they caught sight of the banded scars around his wrists. They were better than they'd used to be, thanks to some work Hank had done, but there was still enough visible for them to be able to tell that he'd once been shackled, either tight enough or long enough to create scars like this. "I've got scars that came from whatever happened to me while I was there. Marks on my body that I have no way of explaining." Dropping his hands, he folded them in his lap, and then he lifted his chin a bit in a gesture that dared them to argue with him on this. "Would you want to remember all of that? If the world's strongest telepath told you that your own brain had locked these memories away, had in fact done it so strongly not even he could break through, tell me, would you want to know?"
"Spencer's made a life here, with us." Remy said firmly.
"But you had a life, with us." Derek said. He ignored Remy completely and focused on Spencer. "You were a part of us, kid. Of our family. We, all of us here, were a team."
"We're profilers." Dave interjected. "We worked together as a team at the BAU. The…"
Spencer knew the answer to that. "…Behavioral Analysis Unit."
"That's right. We'd worked together for years before you went missing."
"We were on a case at the time." It was Aaron who took over the storytelling next. "We were working a case where the homeless in Los Angeles were going missing. Not in small numbers, but in droves. At least fifty had already been taken over the span of eleven months. We thought we were getting close there at the end. We had our profile and we were narrowing down suspects. You…" Here Aaron paused, emotion breaking through just briefly until it was swallowed back down. "You and one of the local officers were at the dump site from one of the few victims we discovered and you'd called to tell us something when your phone cut out. By the time we arrived at the scene, the local officer was dead and you were gone. We've been looking for you ever since."
"We never gave up, Reid." Emily told him earnestly. "Your file is always on our desks. None of us gave up on you. JJ insisted that you were alive. That she'd just know if you weren't."
"JJ?" Who was JJ?
"Another friend of ours." Emily smiled at him and he was surprised to see the slight sheen of tears in her eyes. "You were close with her. Her son, Henry, was your Godson. Her and another friend of ours, Penelope Garcia, they tried everything to track you down."
It was so much information all at once. So many things where before there had been nothing. Spencer's mind felt like it was whirling round and round with all these new facts. He'd spent so long with just this giant empty space where his past should be. Yet all of a sudden here were these people who claimed that they knew him, that they had been close enough with him to be family. Spencer's hand tightened on the glass of wine he held and he tried so hard to push down the maelstrom of emotions that were churning inside him.
He'd come to terms with the darkness of his past a long time ago. Like he'd told them, the only hints of his past had been fear and an all-consuming terror. There were nights that he woke up screaming from nightmares he couldn't remember. Sometimes it would take over an hour for Remy to calm him down again. What had happened to him in his past—Spencer didn't think he wanted to know. He didn't think he wanted to remember. There were things he bore that told him clearly the past was best left in the past. The ache that settled in his hands some days when it was cold or when he overused them, the track marks on his inner elbows, the shiny scars around his wrists, the long scar that ran from inner elbow straight up to his wrist—those were just some of the things that told him what he might find if he went digging into the past he couldn't remember.
Spencer drew on the strength of the man beside him to lift his head once more and meet the eyes of these people without flinching from them. "I'm sorry." He told them, and he honestly was. He was honestly and truly sorry for this. "I don't remember any of you and I don't remember my past. I know it has to hurt you to be faced with someone you so obviously cared about, but, I don't think I can be what you guys want. I'm not this person. We might share the same face," He gestured towards his face with his free hand. "But we're not the same person."
"Reid…" Emily started.
"No!" The word came out much sharper than Spencer had intended, but he couldn't help it. Didn't they understand? He wasn't this, this Reid they were talking about. His hand tightened a little around his glass and the lines on his hand glowed briefly as his eyes snapped to her face. "I'm not this Reid. I don't know who Reid is. My name is Spencer LeBeau!" The lines on his hand glowed again, as did the ring in his eyes, and everyone's glasses on the table started to glow as well, rattling in their hands or on the table. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath and yanked in his powers before they could cause any damage. He saw the agents watching him with shock, hurt and a bit of what he thought might be fear, and it was just too much. His wine glass made a dull thud as it connected with the table. "Excuse me." In a flash, he was up from his chair and was gone, his long legs carrying him quickly outside.
A look from Remy had Logan rising up to follow after the young genius. Much as Remy wanted to go after him right now, there were a few things that he needed to take care of first.
Emily looked like she was going to start crying any moment. "I'm sorry." She said softly. "I didn't…I didn't mean to upset him so much."
"He'll be fine." Remy reassured her. "He just needs a minute. Spencer, he don't deal so well with emotions times. He's better dan he used to be about it, mais de strong ones still throw him fo' a loop."
"He always was more comfortable in science and logic than in emotion." Derek said softly.
Remy smiled at him. "Dat sounds like him." Drawing in a breath, Remy carefully set down his glass. Then he leaned back in his chair and propped his one arm up on the back of Spencer's empty chair. For all purposes, he looked relaxed, lazy even. Only those who knew him would've recognized the tension in his long frame or the worry that was on his face. Even his voice stayed calm. This was important, he knew. Even if Spencer couldn't see it now, he would later, and Remy would make sure that he would still be able to have that chance. "De t'ing is, y' gotta realize, de Spencer y' knew and de one y' see here might be de same person, but dey're really not. Not anymore. It's like he said—dey might share de same face but dey're not de same person. If y' want any chance of getting to know de new Spencer and having him in y'r life, y'r gonna have to accept dat he's a different person now."
"I don't think he wants us in his life." Dave said.
That made Remy snort. "Course he does." He shook his head and sat up a little. "Y'all scared de hell outta him an den y' went and threw a whole bunch of shit at him, shit he's spent years wondering about. Y' gave him a sense of who he used t'be and even a hint of what happened to put him where we found him. Y' gave him names and faces of people that were apparently part of de life he used to have. Y' gave him his name. Did y' really think he was just gonna perk right up and hug y' an play like everyt'ings all right?" If they thought that, they really didn't know Spencer at all, or the person he'd used to be was much different than the one he was now. "Just, give him time. Let his big ol' brain get de chance to process dis and work through it. Give him a chance to talk himself up into a panic an back down again and to run through every potential scenario that could come from dis and all deir outcomes. Once he does, y' trust Remy, he'll want to talk to y' again."
Remy pushed up to his feet and everyone else at the table did the same. Smiling at them, Remy tried to reassure them. "He'll come around, I promise y'. It might take him a bit, but he will. Even if just fo' de simple fact dat he can't stand not having answers to t'ings. De only question here is—will y' be dere when he's ready?"
It was Aaron who answered him. The older man pulled out a car from the inside of his jacket and he held it out to Remy. Their eyes met over the table and Remy saw a steadiness and a strength there like he often saw on Scott. The look of someone who was every inch the leader. "When Spencer's ready, call us. We'll be there for him—whatever he needs."
Remy took the car and slipped it into his pocket. Then, after a brief hesitation, he pulled out one of his own and held it out. "I aint saying dat he'll answer, mais here's a card with my contact information. I aint been able to get Spencer to get his own email yet. Y' can use mine, though, and it'll get to him. I'll make sure of it."
"Thank you." Emily said.
With one last smile, Remy left the group of people behind and set out to find his husband. Tonight, he'd take Spencer home, get him in the safety of their rooms, and there he'd let him vent this out. He'd let him cry or scream or whatever it was he felt he needed to do. And then tomorrow, or the next day, or whenever it was that he'd finally burned all of this out, he and Spencer would sit down together and they'd figure out what to do.
Maybe these people couldn't give Spencer back his past. But, if done right, maybe they could be a part of his future.