The whole world felt like it was made up of pain. That was what Spencer came back to; the sensation of pain. It felt like something was trapped in his lungs and he tried to draw in breath only to end up coughing his way back to awareness. The feeling of blades slicing at his chest and throat and the echoes of agony through the rest of him were enough to bring him back to consciousness and kick his brain back into gear. There was a moment of disorientation, a sensation of what happened, that faded away as he blinked open heavy eyes and took in the carnage around him.
The room he was in no longer looked like a room. He couldn't even place it as the auditorium. There were piles of rubble and pieces of the building laying everywhere and only a small source of light to illuminate all of it.
It was that source of light Spencer focused on. The thing was right in front of him, so close, and was glowing in a way that made his eyes hurt so much he had to clench them shut on a low groan. A second later it seemed to fade a little and then there was something soft and slightly gritty brushing against his cheek and the feathers along his temple. "Doc?" A voice asked. It was young, female, and sounded terrified. "Doc, wake up. Come on, wake up."
"Hey, guys, he's waking up!" Another voice called out.
Spencer tried to blink his eyes open again. Tried to think past the pain that was all over. "What's going on?" he tried to ask. Only, it came out so slurred together, broken by another painful wheezing cough in the middle, that he wasn't quite sure it would make any sense.
That soft thing—a hand—brushed over his cheek again. "Try not to move, Doc." The female voice said lowly. "You're…you're hurt pretty bad. You took the brunt of the blast, I think."
The blast. That was right. They'd been…they'd been in the auditorium. A gunman. Then, an explosion. Bomb. Someone set off a bomb. Multiple ones, if his brain was remembering correctly. As soon as that all clicked back into place Spencer groaned and tried to open his eyes again. He had to check on the kids. He had to make sure they were okay.
When he opened his eyes he found that he was lying on his stomach on the ground. Once more he took in the chaos around him, the remnants of the blasts that he could faintly remember. There were bodies there, too, though. At least seven of them sitting or curled up around him. Another he saw in the distance, lying half under something. Very faintly he caught a hint of what looked like pink hair and grief slammed into him. His eyes closed for a moment to fight it back before he opened them again.
The light was still in front of him, though dimmer than before, and he could see now it was a cell phone. Someone had pulled out their cell phone to light up what would've probably otherwise been a pitch black room. It allowed him to see just how bad the damage was. It also allowed him to see the damage to those in front of him.
The female voice that had been speaking to him had to belong to the girl who was sitting right in front of him. A slender wisp of a girl, probably not over eighteen. His eyes traveled up to her dirt covered face and he found hazel eyes watching him with obvious concern. Blond hair hung filthy and matted around her head and it looked like there was something dark staining it. Dirt? Blood? He hoped it was the first. Seeing her face allowed him to place a name, though. Naomi. This was Naomi, one of their theater buffs. One of the ones who'd been most excited for the play the group had been planning. Spencer looked up at that dark spot on her head and then back to her face. "Ya' okay?" he slurred out.
She stroked her hand over his cheek. "Shh, I'm fine. Just a knock to the head." Naomi reassured him. Her eyes flashed to the group and then back to him. "Alec, Myles, Kenzie, Lucy, and Jeramiah are here, too. We… we haven't been able to find anyone else."
"Hurt?" Spencer managed to ask.
"Some bumps and bruises. I think…I think Alec has a broken leg. Lucy's arm doesn't look right either." Naomi chewed on her lip for a second. Then she lowered her voice. "It's been bleeding pretty bad. We got something on it but I don't know. I'm not a doctor."
That was enough to have Spencer trying to push past the pain. He ignored his own hurts, though it was so damn hard, and tried to draw his arms up to push himself up off the ground. No sooner had he started to move than Naomi was pressing down on his left shoulder to keep him down. "Don't move, Doc." There was a wobble to her voice before it firmed. "You're… you shielded us. There's some, some of the roof or the wall or something on your, your wing. An your leg, it's bleeding. You shouldn't move."
The pain in his leg had been registered already, though he hadn't noticed the tacky feeling of blood until she mentioned it. Hearing about his wing had him instinctively trying to move it. Pain exploded in starbursts behind his eyes and he had to try and cut off the cry that wanted to tear past his lips. God, oh God, it hurt, it hurt! The pain rolled over him in waves until he thought he might pass out underneath it. Sheer willpower—Derek would've called it stubbornness—kept Spencer from giving in to the promise of relief in the darkness.
No, no, no, no, he could not focus on that, he couldn't let himself pass out from that. There were kids in front of him, seven of them, and they were his responsibility. They were his to care for. He was the adult here and he had to act like one. He had to take care of them and that meant not passing out from the pain. But it also meant that lying here on his stomach pinned to the ground wasn't going to be an option either. I've got to help them. I've got to take care of them. "Naomi." Coughing again to clear his throat, Spencer forced himself to look up. "Your phone…any service?"
"It's your phone. I found it in your, uh, your pocket." He watched her pick up the phone and look at it for a second. "There's nothing. We haven't been able to get—Oh! There's a bar here. Barely, but here." She froze with the phone near his head.
Spencer ignored the way the light made his eyes hurt and tried not to groan. "Unlock it and go… into my contacts. Morgan. Call him."
He had to close his eyes while he waited. A second later there was a tinny sound of ringing that quickly grew louder when she hit the speakerphone button. They must not dare risk moving the phone from where she'd found service.
Only two rings after it started, a blessedly familiar voice answered it. "Dude, Reid, I was just about to call you. We need you to come in. They're calling all hands on deck. We had a bombing downtown an everyone's in a panic."
"Yeah." The word came out lower than he liked, croaking a little. "I know."
Immediately Derek's voice changed. Spencer heard the sharpness to it as well as the concern. "Reid?"
Spencer blew out a breath and tried to remember to keep calm. Even if he didn't feel it, keep calm. If he panicked than the kids were going to panic. So Spencer tried to keep his voice as casual as possible. "My luck won out again."
"Do not tell me you're down there."
"If that's what you want."
There was some shuffling in the background and Spencer heard a few voices before suddenly there was an increase in sound and a change that Spencer knew meant he'd just been put on speakerphone. Sure enough, Aaron's voice came on a second later. "Reid, where are you?"
"I'm at The Center in the…" he paused to cough, "…the auditorium. Or what's left. You're on speakerphone right now, guys. I've got seven kids here with me and some in definite need of medical attention."
"Everyone's already on their way down there." Aaron's steady voice reassured him the same way it always did in bad situations. "Can you tell us what happened? What're we walking into?" There were more voices in the background, quickly shushed.
Spencer eyed the kids around him, the way they all stared at him with wide eyes, all of them trusting him, trusting him to save them. He hated what they were about to hear and wished there was a way they didn't have to. But he had to let his team know. "FOH stormed the place. Someone got word just moments before and everyone tried to evacuate, but they came in with guns." Off to the side, Spencer heard a low sob and saw Myles lean in to his brother, Alec, who held him a little closer. Spencer blew out a shaky breath and gave another cough. "I tried to get a group out of the auditorium. But the next thing I knew, there were explosions and the whole building came down. I don't know how many got out or how many survivors are around. But I don't imagine the FOH will stick around. They're more the type to attack and run."
That many words in a row was almost more than Spencer could manage. He had to pause to cough again, this time longer and harder than the last, and the agony it put into his stomach was enough to blur his vision and make his ears ring. Definitely a few broken ribs. His bones had always broken slightly easier than most. He assumed it had something to do with his more avian like physiology. There was something at his side, too, something wet, and as his cough faded he got the faint hint of a metallic taste in his mouth.
There were voices calling his name that Spencer couldn't answer. However, one of the kids did. He heard one of them saying "He's hurt pretty bad. I think he's, he's pinned. He tried to shelter us."
Spencer wanted to tell him to be quiet. He wanted to shush him, to warn him not to say a word, but there was no point and the young genius knew it. There was no way he was going to be able to hide this. No way to keep his wings secret after this. Not with one of them injured and trapped. His team would come in, rescuers would come in, and they'd all see what he was. Any other time and Spencer would've been panicking over that. Right then, he couldn't. He just couldn't. He had to focus on the kids.
"I'm fine." He finally managed to get out. "Hotch, this place was full today. There were a lot of people in here. I don't know how many got out, but there's going to be a lot of injured, and there's going to be a lot of them that run the chance of being mutants."
"We'll make sure everyone's as safe as possible." Dave said firmly, his voice surprising Spencer a little. He hadn't realized the older profiler was there.
He knew he could trust them. He had to trust them. His team had always been fair to mutants. None of them seemed to carry any sort of prejudice. Fear of their reactions had never been one of the reasons that Spencer kept quiet about his own mutation. He'd just never wanted to put them in the position of having to cover for him. To lie for him. He'd wanted them to be able to honestly deny knowing anything if the truth ever came out.
"We should go." Spencer mumbled. "Need to… preserve the battery. It's our light."
"Just hang in there, kid. All of you." Derek said firmly. "We're on our way. Just hang in there till we get there."
It was the only thing Spencer could do. He had to trust that they would get to him. That his team would come. Right now, it was the one thing he was hanging on.
Once they hung up the phone, there were other things that needed to be done, things that Spencer couldn't get up to do. He needed to be able to assess the damage done to the others and make sure that no one was going to bleed out before help arrived. In lieu of using his own hands, he had to settle for using someone else's. "Naomi, if I walk you through it, can you do a bit of triage?"
"I can." Naomi's voice sounded firmer than she looked. She was scared, he knew, but she'd try.
They never got the chance to. Before Spencer could even begin to speak, there was another sound nearby, one that had them all going still. It was the sound of something shifting. Moving. Spencer went on high alert and his one good wing snapped up and out in an instinctive attempt to shelter the others. His wingspan was rather large and it didn't take much effort to try and drape that wing over them, though it ached when he did, telling him that he might not have broken anything in that one, but he'd damaged it at least some.
Then the shifting stopped and a voice called out. "Anyone in here?" The voice asked. "We're here to help. Is there anyone in here?"
"Over here!" Lucy shouted, a sob of relief breaking into her words. "We're over here!"
There was a moment of fear in which Spencer couldn't help but wonder if this was really someone coming to help them or someone else, someone far more sinister. Because there was no way rescue people could be here yet to help. It wasn't until he turned his head and saw who was coming towards them that he relaxed a little and let out a sigh of relief that quickly turned into another cough. Those weren't any of the FOH or anyone like that coming towards them. The two men that were climbing through the rubble were X-Men. Though Spencer had never met them, both he and Brianna deciding it was smartest to keep Spencer firmly away from them when they came back, he knew enough to know what they looked like and to be able to name the two that were coming towards them now. They were Wolverine and Gambit, two of the most common ones to come through The Center. They often came to pick up kids and get them out, quickly.
The crying from Myles got a bit louder and Spencer saw a few of the kids slump down in relief as the two men came into view.
"Hang on, everyone." Wolverine said as he climbed over one rock and slid down towards them. It wasn't easy to see him; the dark made it a bit difficult. But he and Gambit climbed over the broken stuff and slid down into the little bubble of safety this group sat in. As they got close, Spencer saw that Wolverine had a bag slung over him—a medical bag.
The feral man moved as if to come towards Spencer first and he shook his head despite how much it hurt to do so. "The kids." Drawing his wing back and trying not to hiss at the movement, he used it like a limb to gesture towards Lucy. "She's got a potentially broken arm and was bleeding. Alec's leg is broken as well, and Naomi has a head wound. I haven't been able to inspect anyone else." He cut off to cough, the air scratching his chest and lungs.
Gambit moved with a light-footed grace over a bit of rubble to finally drop down into a crouch between Naomi and Spencer. "Yeah, can see how dat might be hard fo' y'." His words carried a thick Cajun drawl to them that managed to actually sound amused even in the midst of all this. He flashed a bright smile at Spencer and then turned to Naomi. "Let Gambit take a look at y'r head, petit."
"Help's on the way." Wolverine said. He'd moved to crouch by Lucy and his touch looked surprisingly gentle as it moved over her arm and assessed the damage. "Rescue teams are already outside an they've got a team getting ready to start trying to get in here."
"Did anyone get out?" Spencer asked.
Gambit nodded. "A few. We got people of our own out dere dat got some."
A sigh of relief slipped from Spencer. He let his body slump just a little down onto the ground. His cheek came to rest of the dirty floor under him and he closed his eyes for just a second. Thank God some of them had gotten out. And there was help here now too. Two people that he knew their reputations enough to know they could be trusted with the care of the children. Spencer didn't have to keep up his strength anymore. He didn't have to be the only grown up. There were people here to help now.
The young genius hadn't realized how long his eyes had been closed until suddenly a hand was patting at his cheek. "Hey, hey, none of dat." Gambit's drawl rolled over him, thick as molasses. "C'mon now, mec. Wake up. Y' can't be goin' to sleep."
Spencer tried to blink his eyes back open and found them heavier than he'd expected. That's not good. "'M not sleeping." He mumbled.
"Course y' aint." Gambit answered promptly. He gave another pat to Spencer's cheek, just a little firmer this time. "Just keep dem eyes open, y'hear? Dey look like some pretty eyes."
That was the first time Spencer had ever heard that. Usually when he was like this, people were a little put off by his eyes. Like a birds, there was no sclera, no white part of his eye. There was just his pupil and then the iris took up the rest. His irises stayed brown, just as they did when he looked 'normal'.
"Wolvie." The sound of Gambit's voice seemed a bit sharper now and Spencer tried to focus on it, worried. Was something wrong? Was something wrong with the kids? But then he heard "He's driftin' too much. Toss y'r bag on over. We gotta see about bindin' some of dis."
Spencer tried to shake his head and pull back from the hand that was still cupped over his cheek. "The kids…"
"De kids are fine, cher. Don't y' worry, we'll take care of 'em."
"He protected us." A soft voice said. It sounded like Naomi, or maybe Lucy. Spencer wasn't sure which. "We didn't even know he was a mutant. But that bomb went off and he just, his wings came out and wrapped around all of us and he tried to keep us under him."
Of course he did. They were children; it was his job to protect them.
There was the sound of shuffling and Spencer blinked heavy eyes, only to see that Wolverine had come closer at some point and was now moving down towards his lower half—the lower half that Spencer had tried so hard to avoid looking at. He felt a gentle touch of something near his leg and tried not to groan. Someone sighed and the touch went away. "We aint gonna be able to move him, not yet." Wolverine said lowly. He moved in closer and his voice dropped so low Spencer wouldn't have heard it without his heightened senses. "His leg's sliced clean open an he's bleedin' pretty hard. Looks like a piece of the wall came down on his right wing an it's pinned down there. I'm thinkin' his arm might be too. There's no way we're getting him outta here without a real doc an a stretcher."
Gambit let out a low, barely audible curse. His hand started to stroke over Spencer's cheek, up into the feathers along his temple. "I'll stay with him. Y' lead de kids out, Wolvie. It aint safe fo' dem in here."
"It aint safe for you two, neither."
"Don't matter. He can't move and Gambit can't just leave him here. Y' t'ink dey're gonna treat him well when dey get in here and see his wings? DC aint exactly a hub of mutant appreciation."
If only they knew just how true that was. It wasn't going to go over well at all when they got Spencer out of there. There was going to be no hiding this. Not with how injured he was and how many of the kids had seen him. He wouldn't' be able to hide his mutation anymore. The Bureau, his team, everyone was going to know. Spencer wouldn't be able to hide himself. The thought of that pained him and he closed his eyes against it.
A second later the hand on his face was patting again. "Hey! Keep dem eyes open. Is Gambit borin' y' dat much, cher?"
"Tired." Spencer said lowly.
"Bet y' are. Just hang on a little longer, hm?"
Wolverine's voice interrupted them. "I gotta get somethin' on this before I go. If you can hear me, kid, you lost a lotta blood here. I'm gonna put something there an tie it off an hopefully keep it under control till rescue teams get in here. It's gonna hurt like a son of a bitch but it'll help. Just try an hold still for me, all right?"
Hold still, right, he could do that. Spencer nodded and tried to brace himself as best as he could. Really, he knew better. There was no bracing for that kind of pain. One second it was just a low hum and the next it was like white hot knives were slicing away at his flesh, down into his muscles and even his bone. His whole body clamped down and he felt his wings both try and snap out. The right one couldn't move, but it added to the pain, and he tried not to scream.
There was a moment there where Spencer knew that he blacked out. It felt like the blink of an eye as he went from earth-shattering pain to this sort of aching mixed with a strange numbness. When he blinked his eyes open again he was surprised to realize that his head was laying on something soft down and there was a face right there in front of his with a gorgeous pair of red and black eyes staring right at him. The hand on his cheek was still there, stroking gently over skin and feathers, and he could see the man's lips moving but it took a moment for the words to start to come through. "…right, cher. Y'r all right. We're gonna get y' out of here, don't y' worry. De rescue teams are comin'."
A look around showed that they were alone. Where on earth had everyone gone?
The question must've been obvious on his face because Gambit immediately answered his unasked question. "Wolvie got dem outta here. Y' blacked out fo' a little while after he wrapped up y'r leg."
"You should go, too." Spencer said softly.
Gambit snorted at him and pressed in a little closer. He was under Spencer's wing, the genius realized. He was lying underneath Spencer's good wing and almost cuddled up against him, one hand up on Spencer's face and his other arm pillowed under his head, keeping them at eye level with one another. "Gambit aint going nowhere. Not gonna just leave y' here. We found as many others as we could an de Wolverine will help get as many out as he can. Some of our team is helpin', too, getting de ones out dat we can. Not even de feds out dere are gonna protest havin' mutants on rescue effort. Everyone's getting out as quickly as dey can. Mais, we can't move y', not without real doctors here to help y' afterwards, an dere aint no way Gambit's gonna leave anyone alone for dis. He aint leaving y', cher. Besides," Abruptly the serious look faded away and Spencer was graced with a bright smile that lit up the dusty face. "Gambit's always happy to keep company with a gorgeous companion."
To Spencer's surprise, he found himself huffing out a soft, painful laugh. "I'm afraid I'm not at my best right now."
"Dat sounds promising." One of those unique eyes winked at him. "Maybe once y'r feeling better y'll show dis Cajun just how good y'r best really is."
"Do you often try to pick up people who are bleeding to death beside you?"
The Cajun scoffed. "Y' aint dyin' on me, cher. If y' do, how'm I gonna collect on dis date?" He made a low 'tsk' sound and shook his head. "Y' can't tease a boy with de promise of something an den not deliver. Aint no one ever told y' dat? Y' got ol' Gambit's hopes up now. He's gonna hold y' to it."
Another weak laugh slipped from Spencer, broken only a little by his cough. "You are slightly insane."
"It's been said."
Spencer couldn't help but smile at him. Tired, and just slightly afraid that maybe he wasn't going to make it out of this, he didn't feel his usual shyness. He just focused on Remy's eyes and tried to anchor himself here, refusing to just lie there and give up. "I tell you what." He said softly, coughing again and grimacing at the pull in his ribs. "If I get out of here, as soon as I'm able I'll see what I can do."
"A nice dinner." Gambit said, smirking. "None of dat cheap shit, neither."
"Of course not. There's a place…" Another cough broke through and Spencer fought to hold on through it. His ribs felt like they were grinding together and he could taste blood in his mouth and against his lips. Not good. This is not good.
Gentle hands stroked over his skin until the cough was under control. Then Spencer felt the edge of a sleeve against his mouth. Gambit didn't comment on the coughing, or on the blood he found there. His voice was just as clam as before as he said "Tel me about dis place. Y' take all y'r dates dere?"
"Don't date." Spencer wheezed out. I'm so tired. God, I'm tired! He fought past that, afraid that if he gave in again, it might be the very last time. "Never… never taken anyone there. I know the… the cook."
"Ohh, y' got an in with de chef, huh?"
"He tries to, to fatten me up." Another cough, smaller this time. Spencer pressed his face down into the soft thing under his head. Focus on the conversation. Don't think about the pain or anything else. Just keep talking. Focus. "He's nice. A great chef, too. You'll like his food."
"So, dinner, maybe a nice bottle of wine. What else, cher? What else y' gonna do with Remy?"
The use of the man's real name barely even registered in Spencer's mind. He focused hard on their conversations, trying to use it to keep himself anchored here, to hold on as tight as he could. "Dancing. They… they have dancing there, and a band that plays."
"Sounds perfect. What next?"
"Dessert. Paul makes the best desserts. We could…we could take it up to the roof. Enjoy it up there and watch the stars…"
It was too much. Spencer tried to focus, tried to think past the pain and the swirling in his head. His eyes drifted closed of their own accord. Spencer swore he could hear someone calling out for him, someone slapping at his face, but he couldn't focus on it. With a whisper and a sigh, the world faded into dark.
