I don't know how plausible it is for Logan to have known Spencer since he was a child, but it's what I chose. Be gentle with this fic! This is pretty much the first fic EVER that I wrote in this fandom mixture and I've only recently revamped it and it's still not quite perfect lol


It hurt Logan to watch as Spencer climbed off the bike. Almost instantly the younger man seemed to shrink in on himself. His shoulders hunched and his chin dropped down while his arms wrapped around his waist. He was curling into himself; it was almost like he was holding himself together, like he would break apart if he didn't. The thought terrified Logan more than he would care to admit. Spencer had always been the kind of person to hold things in, always seeming to carry so much more under the surface than most. But he'd also always had this silent strength to him. No matter how many times he'd been knocked to the ground and stomped on, he always found a way to get back up. Now, that strength was gone. Watching him, Logan's thoughts turned morose. The kid looks like a strong breeze would blow him away. He's lost too much weight and there're too many shadows under his eyes. Hell, inhis eyes too. It was a good plan to bring him here. He needs this. He needs to get away and heal. I just hope like hell he canheal from this, whatever it is.

"Come on, brat. Let's get inside." Logan told him in a gentle growl.

Spencer nodded at him. "Ok, Pater." He murmured. That was another clue to how broken down Spencer was inside. He only ever called Logan 'Pater' when he was hurting or being sweet. It was Latin for 'Father', a title he'd given the feral years upon years ago when a grown man and a young child had met and bonded together.

With a gentle touch, Logan put his hand on the small of Spencer's back, using his other hand to sling their bags over his free shoulder, and he guided him through the garage and into the house. The first place he wanted to take the kid was the kitchen. It had been hours since they'd eaten something and Spencer needed food in his system. He was far, far too skinny at the moment. Logan was making a point to feed the kid at every opportunity possible in the hopes of putting some weight back on him. Slender build be damned. There was such a thing as too skinny and Spencer had definitely reached that.

There was no one in the kitchen when they walked in, for which Logan was grateful. He wasn't too sure that Spencer was up for seeing anyone quite yet. He guided the kid—and no matter that he was in his twenties, he would always be a kid to Logan—to the island and sat him down there on one of the stools. "Just sit here. You're gonna eat something before we put our stuff away. Been too long since you ate something," Logan grumbled at him.

"Fine." Spencer answered. His pose didn't get any better once he was sitting. If anything, it got worse. He bent forward a little, his hair falling down over his face and hiding him from view, and his arms tightened a little more around himself. It cut at Logan inside to see Spencer sitting that way. It was almost like he was braced for a blow he was sure was coming. Seeing it brought back way too many memories of times in their past that Logan had hoped to God he'd never have to see again.

As Logan started to rummage in the fridge, he heard footsteps in the distance, heading toward the kitchen. His nose caught the scent that drifted in and it told him who it was even before the door opened so that, once it did, he didn't even have to turn around to say "Hey, Jean."

"Logan! You're home!" Jean exclaimed happily. Her heels clicked on the floor as she moved over. Logan pulled out of the fridge enough to give her a brief hug. When they separated, she appeared to notice the young man sitting at the island for the first time. "Oh! And you brought someone new with you?"

Logan shrugged one shoulder, bringing out his ingredients and starting to build two sandwiches. "Not technically." He looked up at Spencer, who still hadn't moved from his seat, even with the new addition to the room. Only barely did Logan resist the urge to sigh. "Jean, this is Spencer Reid. Brat, this is Jean. You remember me telling ya about her?"

"Yes, Pater." The boy didn't even look up as he answered the question. This was how he'd been for days. He never did volunteer information any more. He didn't say anything without being prompted to speak. And he very rarely answered anyone that wasn't Logan.

This time Logan did sigh. He set the plate with the sandwich in front of his boy with the command of "Eat up, Spencer. I want that sandwich gone, y'hear?" He watched as Spencer uncurled one arm from his waist, taking hold of the sandwich and bringing it up to his mouth, still hidden by his hair. That was the only movement on him.

Jean's eyebrows were climbing up toward her hairline at the display. Not wanting to say something directly in front of the quiet man, she made a link between her and Logan and asked /What is wrong with him? There's something so very wrong. I…can't seem to get a read on him. His mental shields are so tight I didn't even know someone else was in here with you until I saw him!/

Still making his own sandwich, Logan gave another sigh, this one more mental than physical. /He's been through a lot, Jean. A lot. I brought him home with me to heal a little. He needs it right now and there was no way I was leaving him there. He's just a shell of the kid he used to be/

/He's important to you/ Jean realized.

He looked up at her and nodded. There was no reason to deny it. He wasn't the least bit ashamed of his relationship with the kid and he didn't deny him to anyone. /He's been like the son I never had and he considers me more of a father than the bastard that sired him. He calls me Pater. Latin for dad, basically. I'm the only person he's talking to right now, Jean. He's walled himself off so much and I don't know what the hell to do for him. I can't fight something I can't see/ And oh, how he wanted to fight this, whatever the hell it was. He wanted to go at it and rip it to shreds for daring to come after his pup.

If Jean caught his violent thoughts, she said nothing about them. /With shields that strong, I'm assuming he's a mutant?/

Logan grimaced and took a bite from his food. /Yeah. That's half the problem, I think. He's a path, Jeannie. Empath and telepath both. It aint healthy for an empath to be this shut off/

Her shock was written all over her face. Horrified eyes turned over to look at the man who was still silently eating his food. /Dear Lord. We should get him to the Professor and Hank. They might be able to do something for him, Logan. He needs help/

"I know." Logan finally spoke out loud. For a moment the kitchen was quiet from both sounds and thoughts alike. The two men ate their food, one staring at his lap and the other staring at his friend. When they were done, Logan washed up their plates. As he did, he looked over his shoulder at Jean, thinking of something that might help. "Hey, what about the Cajun? He around here somewhere? I think his skills might come in handy with this."

The suggestion lit Jean up for just a second before her face fell a little. "He's been in his apartment in the city for a few days now. He and Rogue had another one of their fights. She's left him, again, so he took some time to himself. Let me see if I can reach him and if he'll come back for this. He'll help, if he's able."

While Jean pulled out her cell phone and sent a text to their resident Cajun, Logan got a glass of milk and brought it over to Spencer. He took a seat beside him, putting the cup in front of him and then touching his leg. "Drink up, Spencer. Milk's good for you, or so people tell me." He added that last line in hopes of prodding Spencer into one of his usual fact-spewing rambles. It didn't work. With mechanical movements, Spencer took the cup and drank slowly from it, as if he was only doing what he was told, not something he wanted to do.

Closing her phone, Jean shook her head and looked over at Logan, smiling. "He says he was already on his way back. I told him we have a new student that he might be able to help with. He said to give him about fifteen minutes and he'll be here."

The knowledge that Remy was going to be here lightened the weight on Logan's shoulders, "Why don't you have him meet us down in Blue's office? I'm gonna drop our stuff off and head down there."


Almost fifteen minutes later, Logan and Spencer were making their way down to the Med Lab together, their stuff stowed in Logan's room. Once more, Spencer walked silently, Logan's hand on his back to guide him. There wasn't any real sign of life from him. He moved like he was a doll that Logan was leading around. They stepped into the lab, the doors making a swooshing sound behind him as they closed. Logan looked over to where Hank McCoy was sitting at his table, doing something or other there with a bunch of different test tubes and a microscope. The blue man looked up, smiling when he saw Logan. "Logan! Welcome home, my friend! What have you brought to me this fine day?"

Logan drew Spencer out a little bit so he was visible to the other man. He kept a hand on Spencer's back to offer comfort though the younger man wasn't even showing his usual discomfort at being in a doctor's office. "Hey, Blue. This is Spencer, a friend of mine. I was hoping ya wouldn't mind giving him a look over. There's something wrong with him and I aint sure what it is." Logan said candidly.

If the doctor was surprised, he didn't show it. Hank smiled at him and gestured them towards one of the exam tables. "Of course, of course. Anything to help out a friend of a friend. What is your name, young man?" He asked as Spencer took a seat on the edge of the table.

When Spencer said nothing, Logan bit back yet another sigh. I sure seem to be sighing a lot lately. I swear, this kid is going to give me grey hairs. The thought had him wanting to snort out a laugh.If anyone could do it, it would be him. "Spencer, Hank asked you a question. I need ya to answer him, okay kid? He's just gonna take a look at ya and make sure you're doing okay."

Without lifting his head, Spencer nodded. "Reid."

"A pleasure to meet you, Reid." True to character, Hank said nothing about the lackluster response from the patient, nor did he let it deter him. He brought out his stethoscope and started his examination. "Can you tell me a little about yourself for my files, Reid? I like to understand my patients." He also wanted to draw the boy into talking to see if he could understand what was going on. Already he could see what had concerned Logan enough to bring him down here. Now he just had to figure out what was going on. "Can you tell me your full name or what it is you do for work?"

Spencer stared at his lap and spoke that same flat monotone. "My name is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid and I work with the behavioral analysis unit in the FBI."

"FBI?" Hank asked with surprise. He looked to Logan, who nodded his confirmation but said nothing else on it. No explanation on how a mutant and a Fed became friends, or why an FBI agent was being brought into the headquarters of the X-Men to be examined by their doctor instead of by his own. When none of it was forthcoming, Hank didn't press, saving up his questions for later. Snapping the blood pressure cuff on, he gave Spencer an impressed look. "You seem awfully young to be in the FBI as an agent. A doctor, as well. What is your doctorate?"

"I have three. Mathematics, Engineering and Chemistry."

When Hank's eyebrows shot up and his eyes again went to Logan, the feral man did more than nod this time. Just as the doors opened, revealing Remy LeBeau, Logan answered the question that was written on Hank's face. "Kid's a genius, Blue. Graduated high school at 12 an started college the next year. Youngest ever agent for the FBI. He's got an IQ of 187. On top of his three doctorates, he's got two BA's and was working on another."

"Oh my." Hank's eyes were even wider.

Remy sauntered over toward them, not even shy about having listened in. "Dat's one smart homme y' got dere. What's he doin' hanging round wit' de likes of y'?" Remy teased him. He stopped near Logan and smirked at him. "Y' say y' need Remy's help an den Jean tell him dat y'r taking de kid down here to Henri's lab. Y'r lucky Remy likes y', Wolvie. Y' know Remy don't like being down here."

To the untrained eye, Remy looked just as cocky and self-assured as usual. But Logan had observed the Cajun plenty of times in plenty of different moods and he could see the strain on his friend's face and he could hear the slightly off sound to his voice. Remy's masks weren't as strong as they usually were. This last fight with Rogue must have really knocked him down Logan realized.Must've been a bad one. Once I get Spencer settled in, the Cajun and I are gonna have a long talk. Damn. When did I suddenly become the company counselor? I aint good with this shit. That's why I wanted Remy to help with Spencer!

"Had to have Blue take a look at the kid." Logan said by way of explanation. Sighing again—he really needed to stop that before it became a habit—he looked at Spencer. "Brat, I'm gonna step outside with Gumbo here for a minute, okay? I'll be back in shortly, don't worry. You okay with that?"

"Yes, Pater."

The flat voice had Remy's eyebrows going up with surprise, but he said nothing as Logan led him out of the room. Only when they were outside did Remy finally speak up. "What happened to dat boy, Wolvie? When Jean said dat y' needed m' help with someone, she didn't say what be going on."

"It's a long story, Rems." Logan brought a hand up and ran it through his hair. Remy wasn't the only one whose usual masks weren't in place. Frustrated, Logan tried to find the words for this. Spencer's story wasn't his to tell and typically, he wouldn't go around telling it to just anyone. But he was in way over his head here and there was no one he'd trust more to help than Remy. They'd been good friends since the Cajun had come to the mansion. At least, they had once they'd gotten past their initial distrust of one another. A good fight in the Danger Room that had ended with bleeding and, on Remy's part, some stitches, and they'd been good friends ever since then. Logan had learned that the face that Remy put out there for everyone to see was generally just a cover up for quite a few things he kept hidden on the inside. And as cocky of an act that the Cajun put on, he was always good at helping people through emotional things. Must come from being an empath. He only hoped that was enough for this.

The gentle hand on his arm drew Logan out of his thoughts. He looked over to see Remy looking at him over the top of his sunglasses, red on black eyes full of concern. "Talk to me, mon ami."

Those simple, friendly words opened the floodgates, and the story just seemed to start to pour from him. "I've known Spencer since he was just a little shit. He's had a hard life, Rems. Real hard. But he's always been a fighter. Even if he didn't seem like it, he was. That quiet kind of fighter, ya know?"

"Oui. Dey may not say much, but dey just got dat fire in dem dat no one can make go away."

"Exactly. He's been hurt a lot in his life. Like you, he got hurt for his eyes a lot too. Got the shit kicked out of him." Logan ran a hand through his hair and tried not to growl as scenes from multiple occasions flashed before him, remembering all the times he'd seen the kid all bruised up because someone hadn't liked his eyes. "They're pure white, so people called him the Soulless One. Between his eyes, his mutation, and that big brain of his, he spent most of his life getting the shit kicked out of him. He's been to hell and back so many times I don't know how the hell he's still here. But he always fought back."

Frustrated once more, Logan paced away, needing to move. "I got this call a week ago from his boss. He tells me Spencer got kidnapped while on a job." Realizing that Remy hadn't been there when he'd told Hank what the kid did, he explained, "He works at the BAU in the FBI; they profile and catch serial killers. I guess this one, he got Spencer." And oh, how that had Logan wanting to snarl. A hint of a growl crept into his voice. "The bastard held him for a few days, drugged him, beat him, all in the name of God trying to punish sinners. The killer, he had something like split personalities. One was the actual guy, one was his father, and one was an archangel. The archangel was the killer. The dad personality was the bastard that beat Spencer. Killed him at one point. The main personality came out and saved him. The fucker streamed live video of what he did to the kid to the team. They saw him die and get brought back."

That had Remy wincing. "Bon Dieu."

"Yeah." Logan paused in his pacing and growled. "Somehow Spencer managed to give them clues to where he was. But still, the kid saved himself. Got the gun away while the bastard was making him dig his own grave and he shot him right as the team got there. They brought him home, but his boss says he wasn't the same. Acting strange. Guess the kid got addicted to what the bastard gave him." Just thinking on it had Logan's hands clenching tightly. "Dilaudid."

Remy rocked back on his heels and whistled. "Drug store heroin."

Unable to help himself, Logan winced. "Yeah. Well, kid decided to quit. Hotch, his boss, said he took a few days off, but when Hotch went to check on him, Spencer was just a zombie in his apartment. Not high, just…gone. He wasn't using no more, but wasn't reacting to anything either. He said the kid was beat up when he got there, like someone new had hurt him, but Spencer wouldn't talk. The only time he got a reaction was when he talked about a hospital and Spencer freaked. When Hotch promised he wouldn't take him, the kid quieted down and he stopped speaking again. None of them could get him to talk. So they called me." Once more Logan started to pace. This was just too much. "I came out and…damn, Gumbo, he looked like hell. I stayed there a few days, tried to get him to talk to me. Typically you can't get him to shut up. Now? He'll answer my questions, follow my directions, but otherwise he's just locked away in there. Only thing he won't answer is about what put those marks on him and I have a feeling that's the biggest thing that's wrong. He's not letting himself feel anymore. I didn't know what the hell to do for him. He's like family, Remy. I couldn't just leave him there. So I arranged for time off for him and I brought him here."

The hug he suddenly found himself in surprised Logan. He wasn't a big hugging person. With anyone else, he would've born it stiffly, maybe growled a little and yanked away. But right now he gratefully accepted his friend's embrace. At the moment, it felt perfect.

When they pulled apart, Remy patted Logan's arm. "Y' did de right t'ing, Logan. Sounds like de last t'ing he needs is to be 'lone right now. Emotions be hard t'ings to deal with. Sounds like he's hiding from his."

That made Logan realize he'd forgotten something important in his story. Realizing it, he grimaced. "I didn't even think to mention it. He's a path, Rem. Telepath and empath both."

Remy's eyes went wider than ever. "Merde! Dat's worse, Logan!" Those wide eyes shot to the door. "De empathy, dat makes dis worse. For an empath not to feel, not to let himself feel, it's like starving y'rself from de inside out. We don't survive well without emotions. Dey mean so much more to an empath den everyone else. We need to feel like we need to breathe."

"I know it's asking a lot, but I don't know who the hell else to ask." And to no one else would Logan admit that. He knew he could trust Remy with his words. "I'd have brought him here either way, but when I got here I was hoping ya might be able to help a little. Someone that understands the empathy and the hurt. If ya can't, I understand…"

"Non, Logan. Remy can't say no to dis. Won't turn down a friend asking fo' help. And Remy gotta help him. Know what dat feels like, me. Know dat pain. Remy can't let someone else feel dat way and not help." He rubbed a hand over his chin, obviously thinking. Then his eyes went back to Logan's face, a serious look on his face. "Dis won't be easy, mon ami. Dis needs to be fixed, fast. Means Remy might have to get a bit mean about it. Gotta make him feel, y' know? If talking don't work, den Remy's gonna have to push."

"I trust you, Remy." And he did. He trusted the man that, when he'd met him, had reminded him so much of Spencer. A man that he'd come to know and considered not only a close friend, but also another person in his 'pack' that he looked out for and protected. Trust wasn't easy for either Logan or Remy to give but they had both earned it with each other time and time again. There was no doubt in either of their minds that they could trust the other.

Remy's smile was wide and bright. "Merci, Logan. Why don't y'all finish up in here and den y' bring him on down to de boathouse? It's far enough away from de house dat it should be a lil easier on him, an a lil safer fo' everyone else."

"Good idea. I'll bring our stuff down an we can stay there for a while."

"Remy'll give y' bout an hour, oui? Meet y' down dere den."

As Logan watched his friend dart away, he hoped that this might do the trick. Otherwise his only choice was going to be Chuck and the last thing he wanted to do was put Spencer through that ordeal. His boy was finicky on the best of days about telepaths. He carried the same distrust of them that Logan did. Besides which, there was no telling what might be seen if the Professor stepped into Spencer's head. The boy had a lot of secrets locked away in there. Secrets that could be devastating if they got free.

With one final sigh—he really had to stop that!—Logan pushed all those dark thoughts away. No point in courting trouble. They'd see how things went with Remy first and worry about the rest later. Firm in that resolve, he turned around and went back into the Med Lab, back to his surrogate son.