It took way too long before rescue crews made their way into the auditorium. Remy counted down the seconds in heartbeats as he huddled up to the freezing cold body in front of him and focused on the steady rise and fall that signified the man he was watching was still breathing. Still alive. Spencer, one of the girls had said his name was. Spencer. A man who had apparently shielded these children with his own body and taken as much of the damage as he could. A man who, while choking on dirt and blood and who knew what else, had still managed to keep those kids safe and calm until help could arrive.
By the time the rescue crews finally broke through the one wall and filled their little spot with sunshine, Remy was about ready to try lifting up the rocks himself and dragging Spencer out of there.
He pushed up to his feet and started snapping orders almost as soon as the first man came into view. "We need paramedics in here, now. He's lost a lot of blood an he aint conscious no more. He needs help!"
What came next wasn't something that the Cajun would ever forget. He had no idea what it was about this man that drew him in so much. He just couldn't seem to leave him, not even when the rescue team set about trying to free him, or even as they got him out from underneath the bit of wall that had held him in place. Someone tried to get Remy back, to convince him to go outside, and he snarled at them. "I told him I aint leavin' him and y' aint makin me a liar." Then he moved right up and, with gentle hands, helped to lift Spencer's good wing. They couldn't just tuck it on him, not without strapping it down, and other hands were already trying to help hold up the broken one, so Remy kept hold of the good one and kept it folded as close as he could.
Even unconscious, Spencer didn't escape from the pain. It showed in the tight lines on his face and the little whimpers that he gave as his body was moved.
Remy stayed by his side the whole time. Through the rescue and as they finally got him out of the building and towards the waiting paramedics outside. He pulled his sunglasses on, sheltering his eyes against the glare of the sun and the eyes of the crowd, but there was no hiding the enormous wings that they were all carrying out, and the crowd went wild with the sight.
It was as they neared the ambulance that they became aware of their first problem. How on earth were they going to get him inside? His wingspan looked like it was over twenty feet, total, if his wings were stretched out. Maybe more? Remy had no idea. Drawing them in would help but it would also hurt him. "We don't have much choice." One of the paramedics said lowly, looking at the wing in his hands. "There's no other transport. He needs a hospital."
"What hospital is going to be able to help this?" Another paramedic said, gesturing at the same wing.
Remy was already bristling, all set to snap at them, when another voice spoke over them and drew all their attention. "We have a truck prepared and a doctor on hand to help treat him, as well as a hospital close by that agrees to house any injured mutants for treatment by Dr. McCoy." Scott Summers voice was firm and steady, a solid rock amidst the chaos. When Remy turned he found his field leader striding towards him with Logan, Jean, and Hank there with him.
When it looked like a paramedic was going to protest, Scott steamrolled right over him. "I've already spoken with the FBI as well as the man from Homeland Security, both of which have cleared out presence here so long as we're assisting in the care of mutants. Your hospitals aren't prepared to treat their unique physiology. We are. If you have problems, you can speak to those agents back there. For now—Phoenix, Beast."
Jean and Hank both hurried forward and Remy stayed with Spencer's one wing, keeping his hold on it even as the other two moved to Spencer's other side. Jean used her TK to hold Spencer's wing up and Hank immediately started looking at it. "We should be able to fold it slightly. The elbow joint appears bruised but not damaged. However, I'm unsure of the wrist joint. Keep it stable for me as I move the rest, Phoenix, please. Wolverine, I need you to steer us towards the truck. We need this to be as smooth a ride as possible."
In just moments the X-Men had complete control of the situation. Remy went right along with it and helped to fold the wing he held, wincing when it made Spencer moan ever so slightly. A blanket was laid over top of him which Hank carefully strapped down with the gurney's straps. "He's as secure as we're going to make him. We need to move, now."
No one questioned it when Remy came with them. He climbed up into the truck and helped Logan in lifting the front half of the gurney while Hank lifted the back. Once they had Spencer settled, he stayed there with him, unwilling to part from him. "Is he gonna be okay, Henri?" He asked as soon as the others moved away.
The blue-furred mutant looked up briefly and then back down at the leg he was examining. "I will endeavor to do my absolute best. He is not the worst injured that I have seen to today."
That made Remy wince. "How many were dere?"
"We have found thirty two injured so far, twenty of which were mutants, though only eight of those had visible mutations that required special treatment."
Remy didn't bother asking after the dead. Later, he would find out, and he would mourn the ones that he'd known. This was a place he'd come to many times and he'd known quite a few here. For now, he needed to focus on the ones that were alive, the ones that they'd be able to save. That would have to be enough. Later he'd mourn, just as the rest of the X-Men would mourn, for all the lives lost today, and for the ones that no one else would care about.
Hospitals were never one of Remy's favorite places to be. It was even more difficult for him when he was stuck waiting on word for more than one person. The hospital that they had gone to had been cleared out as much as they could specifically to take on injuries from this attack. Humans and mutants alike were brought in and the operating rooms were overflowing. Medical staff was rushing around, trying to do everything they could. Those that weren't drastically injured were shipped off to other hospitals further away, unless they were a mutant. All mutants either stayed here or slipped out when no one was looking.
Because of the mutants here, and because the attack had been against mutants, the presence of law enforcement around the building was strong. Unfortunately, law enforcement wasn't exactly all that comforting to someone who was a mutant. Too many mutants had bad experiences that left them unwilling to trust.
The X-Men were guarding the hospital as well. How Scott and Charles had managed to get all of that cleared was a mystery to Remy. He knew that Charles had some serious connections and he knew a disaster like this tended to push some politics to the side, at least for a little while, but he'd been sure they were going to have to make due. He hadn't expected so much cooperation. It felt, strange. Uncomfortable. And he couldn't stop himself from waiting for the other shoe to drop. This goodwill wasn't going to last. It never did. Eventually it was going to run out and something was going to happen. Remy was going to be prepared when it did.
Remy shifted a little in the hard hospital chair and tried to keep his grimace inside at the press on some bruises.
When the alarm had first sounded, Remy had already been downstairs meeting with Brianna and the few mutants that were hiding underground. The sound of the alarm had jumped everyone into action and they'd had to scramble to take in the sudden inflow of people coming down multiple escape hatches.
Hearing the sound of the gunshots and screams above was something Remy wouldn't ever forget.
He and Logan both had just been getting ready to go upstairs when the bombs went off. What came next was a job that never got any easier no matter times he'd done it. Remy had seen plenty of bombings and attacks. He'd waded through the aftermath of what some types of war could leave behind. Logan had as well. The two of them had gone upstairs—or, what remained of the upstairs—knowing full well how bad it would be. That didn't make it any easier to deal with.
They'd found piles of bodies, people who didn't make it out, people who were dead before the blast ever went off. What groups they found alive, they did everything they could for.
Bless Hank and the rest of the team for hurrying out. It meant that those mutants that needed medical attention were going to get it.
Pulling a pack of cards from his pocket, Remy started to shuffle them, needing to do something with his hands while he waited. The absent gesture helped soothe him down and relax him as his memories went back over the afternoon.
When they'd found Spencer and his group, Remy had been sure there was no one left. He hadn't believed that anyone would've survived in that section of rubble. Yet when they'd dug in to check, because Logan insisted he heard something, they'd found Spencer and seven kids in there. Seven relatively uninjured kids. But the first sight of Spencer had stunned him.
The very first thing he'd noticed was the giant brown and white wing stretched out overtop the group of kids like a security blanket. It wasn't until they'd gotten closer that they'd been able to see more details. Like the fact that the man was lying on his stomach with his other wing pinned down, or that he was bleeding pretty badly. There'd been blood on his face as well, dripping through the dirt and grime there, staining what looked to otherwise be smooth skin and soft feathers. Really, even in the midst of all that, Remy hadn't been able to help admiring that face and wondering what it looked like when it wasn't covered in filth and blood and marred with lines of pain. There was a dusting of soft feathers over the man's temples and forehead, even down his cheeks like some kind of sideburn. There'd been some on his neck, too, and it even looked like there were feathers threaded through his hair. And his eyes – he had such pretty eyes. Eyes that, despite the haze of pain in them, had been surprisingly sharp.
When he got better—and he was damn well going to get better, Remy wasn't going to entertain any other thought—the Cajun was going to see about cashing in on that date Spencer had promised him. Sure, it'd mostly been a way to distract him, but that didn't mean they couldn't take it and run.
Remy sat there in his chair for a little while and entertained himself with thoughts of what that date might be like.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the sound of the nearby TV get turned up. The newscaster was talking about the bombing, of course, and Remy found himself drawn almost against his will towards the story. He watched the man standing outside the wreckage that Remy had previously been in the middle of. Then there was suddenly a picture up on the screen and everything inside of Remy froze over. There, on the TV, was a picture of… Spencer. Only, it didn't quite look like him. There were no feathers on his face, no wings, no unique eyes, no anything to even hint that the man might be a mutant.
Remy pushed up to his feet. He was moving towards the TV before he'd even given it conscious thought. When he got close, he was finally able to hear the voice of the newscaster and what he heard only made his shock grow. "…missing somewhere with the wreckage. Dr. Spencer Reid is a member of the BAU, an elite team of profiles who are tasked with profiling and hunting down serial killers, rapists, and some of our countries worst criminals. Our sources say that Dr. Reid placed a call to his team from directly inside the wreckage. As it stands, there's no word that any sign of him as been found so far. As you can see his team stands patiently by waiting for word of their missing friend…"
The camera broke away from the picture of Spencer and fanned out to show another view of the wreckage, this time with a group of people very clearly the focus on the sidelines. There was no doubt they were a group that was banded together, all their eyes on the piles of rubble in front of them.
Remy stared at the TV in shock. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that the Spencer he'd seen and the one on the TV were one in the same. The ramifications of this were pretty damn serious. It was an easy bet that the Bureau didn't have any idea that they were housing a mutant in their midst. How long would it take before word spread about the bird-like man who had left and who matched Dr. Reid's description? How many people at the hospital had seen him and would put the pieces together the same as Remy was right now?
This was bad. This was really bad. And not just because he'd started to like the kid, either. Survivors were already at risk. The guys who had done this had wanted to send a message to the world. If they found out that one of their victims was secretly FBI, there was every chance it would make Spencer a target. They'd want to come after him even more.
They had to get in front of this as quickly as possible. Remy grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and strode away from the TV while he dialed. A second later he was holding the phone up to his ear and listening to it ring. Remy moved outside, wanting a cigarette while he started to try and figure out what to do next. When the voice on the other end finally answered, Remy wasted no time. "Scotty, we got trouble."