Logan had set Spencer up in a room across from his. This way they were close by if one needed the other, but by putting him in a room across the hall instead of next to his, Logan was putting distance between them, whether consciously or not. While this hurt Spencer, he understood that things were tense between them. He even understood why. And it was his fault.
"Don't contact me anymore."
"Fine. But don't come crying ta me when you need help." The older man said before turning and walking away.
"I won't," He's whispered, unsure if the other had heard him.
Spencer shook his head, clearing it of the last words spoken between them. Now wasn't the time to be focused on that, he decided. Later, just like everything else, he'd deal with it later.
He grabbed his bag and headed for the in suite bathroom he was lucky to have gotten with his room. He would take a shower, get some sleep, and then get a cup of coffee. Then, maybe he would feel more human. Maybe then he'd be able to socialize a bit. Looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he decided he might need a pot or two of coffee before he was ready for that. And maybe a week long nap.
He looked away from the mirror before stripping his clothes. Turning the water as hot as it would go, he gave it a second to warm up. Then he stepped under the spray, reveling in the burn as his skin turned red. He stood there until his skin was numb to the heat. He turned the water to ice cold before getting out, feeling the burn of the cold biting against his skin. He stepped out, dried off and got dressed in flannel bottoms and a long sleeve thermal shirt.
Even though he was exhausted, when he lay down to sleep, he couldn't. He laid there and willed his eyes to fall shut, for his body temperature to drop, for his brain to slip into that place where he never knew what was waiting for him. And maybe that was part of the problem; he didn't know what was waiting on the other side of conciseness. Maybe he was scared he'd see women he'd loved, one who no longer walked this plain. Maybe he was just as scared that he wouldn't. Maybe he'd find himself digging his own grave again, or, maybe this time, he would be in it, buried alive. Maybe he would see memories from a past he tried to keep long forgotten. A past that included the gruff man across the hall.
He finally drifted to sleep to the sudden screams of the children playing outside. Maybe he was afraid he wouldn't see anything at all.
CXCX
Sirens were blaring and the flashing red lights made everything look like it was in slow motion. People were shouting, scientists and military personnel, trying to get the situation under control, trying to get the experiment under control. But how do you control something that was pretty much omnipotent and knew all your weaknesses? You pit him against somebody with no weaknesses.
"Releasing Weapon-X" a female, robotic voice informed them.
Before the door could even open, adamantium claws were tearing through it. The out of control experiment watched as the metal was peeled back as if it was tin foil, but he didn't feel fear. He knew what was on the other side of that door, knew what fate awaited him. Suddenly he was tackled and felt a piercing pain in his side-
CXCX
Spencer awoke with a jerk, covered in sweat and with a ghost of an old pain filling his sides. He clutched at them with gasping breaths. Slowly he took in his surroundings and calmed, recognizing where he was. Too many times he had woke up in an unknown place, with people who, more likely than not, were going to hurt him. He laid back and sighed. Nightmares had become a common experience for him, but he tried not to dream of that time. Tried not to think about it, not even just a brush of it in the back of his mind. It was in the past, way in the past, and it didn't matter anymore. Except it did.
CXCX
Everyone was at breakfast, which had been made, surprisingly, by Remy this morning. He had made them eggs hussarde, which was Holland rusks topped with Canadian bacon, marchand de vin sauce, and then poached eggs, napped with Hollandaise sauce. It was one of his favorite breakfasts when he was a child and he'd gotten up early, so he decided; why not make some for everyone? That and of course it gave him an excuse to make beignets. He loved beignets.
The table fell silent as the door opened and in came Jean, Logan and someone they didn't recognize. They all watched as the new guy fidgeted under their stares.
"Mornin' cher," Remy greeted him, ignoring everyone around him. "Did you sleep well?"
"Very, thank you," Spencer answered him, pushing all thoughts of his nightmare to that secret part of his mind.
"Bien. How 'bout you come sit by Remy, hm?" He pulled out the chair next to him and patted the seat. "You can come an' enjoy an authentic Cajun déjeuner."
Spencer slowly walked over and sat in the indicated seat. Trying to ignore everyone around him, he looked at the breakfast that was laid on the table. His eyes locked on the beignets. He loved beignets. He hadn't had any since he had last visited New Orleans, and that had been a while ago.
He looked over at Remy and asked, "You made this?"
"Oui, though I had some help makin' da beignets." The Cajun replied, looking over at Kurt, who just smiled.
"I haven't had a real Cajun meal since the last time I was in New Orleans." Spencer said, piling food onto his plate, completely forgetting his earlier nerves.
"You've been to N'Awlins?" Remy asked, surprised.
"Yes. I've actually lived there for a short period of time. I'm guessing you're from there," Spencer replied with a note of humor in his voice.
"Born an' raised," He stated proudly.
"It truly is a beautiful place. Did you know," And he pointedly ignored Logan's grumbled 'here we go' here," That the Mercedes-Benz Superdome located there is the largest steel-constructed room unobstructed by posts?"
"Really?" Asked a young man Spencer knew was Robert "Bobby" Drake. He was thin with brown hair and blue eyes. He looked young. Was, in fact, younger than Remy.
"Mhm," Spencer confirmed, taking a bite of what was probably the best beignet he'd ever had. He swallowed and continued. "It has a height of 273 feet, the diameter of the dome is 680 feet, the area of the roof is 9.7 acres, there is 125,000,000 cubic feet of interior space and the total floor footage is 269,000 square feet. I believe there is also 400 miles of electrical wiring in the stadium."
Everything was silent. Everyone just sat there, staring at Spencer, speechless.
"Why do you know that?" Bobby blurted out, eyebrows furrowed.
Their reaction didn't surprise him. He was used to people looking at him strangely because of the things that came out of his mouth. Spencer just shrugged.
"Alright, Kid. If yer done with yer architecture lesson, we gotta go an' talk to Chuck," Wolverine cut in.
Spencer sighed. He knew this was coming, knew he'd have to explain things eventually. It didn't mean he was anymore prepared for it or knew what he was going to say. He stood up, not at all surprised to see he wasn't the only one doing so. Logan, Scott, Jean, Kurt, Remy and a dark skinned woman with shocking white hair all stood up as well. This didn't bother him. In fact he was happy to only explain this once. They all left the dining room, spencer flanked by both Logan and Remy the trip up the stairs and to Xavier's office was silent, everyone focused on the conversation ahead. Any other time, with anyone else, he would have thought the air felt a bit too serious for a simple explanation of old friends. But this was the X-Men, and he understood the need for precaution, especially after everything lately. He understood that they had to ensure the safety of all the mutants at the mansion.
'Wonder what they will say when they find out I'm a Fed' Spencer thought, then snorted in humor making a couple of them look at him weirdly. Logan just ignored it, way too used to Spencer's strange thoughts, and Remy just looked over and smiled at him, amusement dancing in his devilish eyes that Spencer could see over the rim of his sunglasses. The young man flushed and dropped his head, ignoring the deep chuckle it earned him. He had a habit of losing himself inside his own head and forgetting the world around him. It warmed Logan to see that that hadn't changed. The kid had obviously changed in the years they had been apart. Logan had expected no less. But he thought it was still nice to see glimpses of the young boy he used to know. The one that he knew before everything happened, before everything changed. It had been a long time since he last saw that boy. It was before him and Spencer ever said goodbye.
The slightly awkward walk ended an office door. Spencer was nervous, though he didn't let it show. He pushed it deep down and drew himself up. He squared his shoulders, and prepared his mental shields. He was about to be in the same room with a man who was probably one of the strongest telepaths in the world. Two of the strongest telepaths, his mind reminded him, giving him a quick flash of Jean's face. He wasn't really worried about her. It's not like he didn't think she was powerful, he knew she was, he just knew that she wouldn't dig around in his head, not without his permission. He couldn't say the same for the other. He knew that if the man thought it was for the best, he would force his way into Spencer's head. Oh, sure, he would try and be stealthy about it, but he wouldn't focus on the wrongness of it. It might sound a bit mean to think that, Spencer knew, but it wasn't really personal. Spencer didn't put much trust in any telepath. He didn't have many good memories of them.
Spencer drew out of his head when Scott rapped softly on the door. He waited a second and then reached for the handle and opened it. The door swung open to reveal a big office. One of the first things Spencer noticed about the room was the books. There were tons of books filling the shelves of the bookcases lining the walls. The variety ranged drastically, from ancient tomes to modern books on child psychology. This didn't really surprise Spencer, given what he already knew of the man sitting behind the large mahogany desk on the far right of the office. Behind the desk was a large window looking out at the grounds behind the house where it seemed most people went to socialize. The room was lit bright enough to read by, but not bright enough to give Spencer a headache. Spencer took the room in in seconds, a habit that he had picked up to stay alive, before focusing on the man behind the desk. He was obviously an older gentleman, but was in amazing physical shape for his age. He had blue eyes framed with laugh lines, and a shiny bald head. When he came out from behind the desk, you couldn't tell he was 6' like Spencer knew he was due to the fact that he was confined to a wheelchair.
"Kid, this is-, "Logan began before being interrupted.
"Doctor Charles Francis Xavier. More commonly known as Professor Xavier or Professor X. . in genetics, biophysics, psychology, and anthropology, and an M.D. in psychiatry. And, of course, founder of the X-Men," Spencer cut in, listing things off as they flitted through his mind. Logan just rolled his eyes as the professor cleared his throat.
"Well it seems I'm at somewhat of a disadvantage here. While you seem to know who I am, I have no clue as to who you are," the gentle smile he wore let Spencer know he wasn't upset.
"I'm Spencer, Spencer Reid," As much he would have loved to shake the professor's hand, he settled for waving.
"That's it?" Logan teased. "You spout out all that about him and you don't even give him one of your many titles?"
"Fine then," Spencer replied raising an eyebrow at Logan. He then turned back to the professor, straightened up, took a deep breath and reintroduced himself. "I am SSA Dr. Spencer Reid with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the Federal Bureau of Investigation," He looked over his shoulder, once again raising a brow, and asked Logan, "How's that for a title?"
Both of Logan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're a fed now?" I don't think anyone in that room besides Spencer, and maybe the professor, had ever seen Logan look or sound that surprised.
Spencer just shrugged. "I needed something to do with my time," He said.
Logan knew it wasn't as innocent as he made it sound. He knew what he saw when Spencer first arrived. He knew spencer was tired and worn down; that he was on the brink of defeat. He knew that it probably had something to do with the kid's job.
"Vait," Kurt cut in, "I sink I've heard of you. You are zee youngest agent to work in zee BAU, no?"
"Yeah," Spencer replied, "But I had a bit of an advantage on the other agents."
"And what's that, Agent Reid?" Scott asked, feeling a bit strange calling this young man 'agent.'
Spencer was kind of confused by his question. Wasn't it obvious? He'd thought that hi friendship with Logan would have been a huge hint.
He tilted his head to the side and answered, in a slightly bemused voice, "My mutation, of course."
"I knew you had to be a mutant!" Jean exclaimed, startling them. She flushed under their gazes but continued anyway. "I mean, you have really strong shields. I can't even feel your presence in this room. Not like I can the others."
"Jeans right," The professor agreed. "Your shields are extraordinary. I can only feel you if I try my hardest and even then it can easily be lost behind the presences of others. Is it safe to assume that this means you have some form of mental ability?"
"Yes," Spencer replied slowly. "But not in the way you're thinking. I'm not telepathic or empathic or even telekinetic. I have, what is essentially, unlimited knowledge. Now this doesn't mean that I know everything in the entire universe off the top of my head, but the knowledge is somewhere up here." Spencer explained, ending by tapping his head.
"Your mutation, much like your shields, is extraordinary," The professor admired. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like it."
"So, you just have all this knowledge floating around in your head?" Scott asked. Spencer was quickly realizing that Scott was both cautious and curious, always wanting to know every detail of everything. Spencer respected him for it.
"Not exactly," Spencer replied. "I still have to do research, except it's like I have an endless amount of resources in my mind. I don't need to use books or the internet to find things. It's kind of complicated and I don't fully understand it myself, but that's the basic jiff of things."
"If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to have our doctor run some tests, see what he can find about your mutation," the professor purposed.
Spencer panicked, though he didn't show it on the outside. On the outside, his face was unreadable, but on the inside he felt his stomach drop. It felt as if the rug had been pulled out from beneath him and he was crashing toward the floor. He didn't want to be in a lab; he didn't want to be a lab experiment. Not again. He was given no indication that they were performing lab experiments here. Logan wouldn't let them do that to him, would he? Of course he would, his mind supplied. He hates you. He probably wouldn't give it a second thought to handing you over. Just like before.
"Now, P'ofessor, de po' boy just got in. Le' him settle befo' you send 'im off to see Blue, yeah?" Remy cut in. Spencer suddenly realized that Remy was an empath and had probably just felt his panic. He rushed to shut everything down, tightenings shield and cutting off Remy's connection to him. It caused the older man to glance his way, but he studiously avoided looking at him.
"Yes, of course. It's not anything that has to be done right away," The professor agreed. He then turned to Spencer and apologized, "I apologize for my lack of manners. I got caught up in how rare your ability is and how little is known."
Spencer just nodded, knowing firsthand what it feels like to get so caught up in something, you lost all your social graces. Or your connection to reality. But he was still reeling from the sudden panic, and didn't think he could speak at the moment.
"Speakin' of sttlin' in, why don't Remy take you on the tour of de mansion, cher?" Remy asked. "Maybe introduce you ta some of mi amis, yeah?"
"Sure," Spencer croaked, then cleared his scratchy voice. "That sounds nice."
