A/N:

I'm so sorry for the late update everybody :(

I started this story with the intention of keeping it a short one shot (around 5,000 words) but my muse kidnapped the idea and ran away with it, so my plan for the original plot was completely annihilated. I had to start from scratch and rewrite the whole plot/storyline when my muse decided to desert me.

I struggled with the story idea and I had no idea what my end-game will be, but I am throwing in the towel and saying fuck it. I wrote the next 5,000-6,000 words already but I was not able to see the direction of my story so I didn't post it until AZCatmom asked me about future updates. From then on, I decided to just go with it and post slowly even though I have no idea where the storyline will go.

This chapter is for all you amazing cookies, who have stuck with me and haven't given up on this story. PS thanks AZCatmom for kicking my conflicted muse in the face ;)

Love y'all,

Aydsa

Story: Let me hear your silence (pt.3)

Chapter 2

The door closed with a soft snick and the sound reverberated in the small confines of his room. Spencer sat on the bed slumped against the wall. He nearly doubled over in agony when a small movement caused the healing wounds on his back to reopen.

Doctor Sinister seemed even angrier than normal, and when Spencer left his session today he was barely coherent. Without his enhanced healing abilities, he knew that he would not have made it past half of the session. The murderous anger the Doctor displayed was so out of character that Spencer was terrified of the possibility that the Doctor would vent his anger on the other mutants there, on the mutants who were too young and so weak from pain they could not defend themselves.

Spencer knew that every reaction would not be taken lightly so he kept absolutely silent, biting his lips so hard he tasted blood on his tongue for hours afterwards.

Something must have happened to have triggered such rage in the Doctor...but the grating, clanging sounds of the lock being opened brought Spencer out of his morose thoughts and he gingerly sat up and shuffled towards the edge of the bed, trying to appear as strong and steady as possible.

Two guards entered carrying a tray of food, and the tension seeped out of his frame at the familiar sight but at the approaching sounds of a struggle, his body went stiff with tension.

A man with chestnut hair, strong jawline and tall, lean frame was dragged in. The man snarled and fought like a raving animal with strikes as powerful and precise as a bullet. When Spencer's hazel brown eyes met the man's, he was struck by the deep burning red of his pupils. Those eyes should have scared him but instead of reminding Spencer of the Doctor's dead-cold eyes, it made him think of a bright, burning flame.

Spencer stared at the sight the man made in amazement because not only did he manage to take out two of the guards, he was simultaneously egging them on.

"That all y' can do, homme?! Ain't nothin' Gambit enjoys more dan taking out connards like y'!"

The stranger must have wanted to incite a violent response because before anyone else could react, one of the guards flicked open a baton and and thrusted it into the stranger's stomach. There was a crackle of electricity in the air before the stranger's body convulsed and stilled.

"Che...pathetic piece of shit…" The guard (-Hanson- his mind supplied) spat at the downed mutant before he leveled a glare at Spencer.

Spencer averted his eyes, hunched his shoulders and made himself look smaller and weaker. More submissive. The tactics he learned worked well and he knew how to make them think he was broken. Make them think that they broke him, when, in reality, a flicker of defiance and tenacity blazed deep inside his mind.

Seconds passed and the crawling gaze left him, but he kept his eyes on his knobbly knees until he heard the door slam close. As soon as the door closed, Spencer sagged and gave in to the urge to wrap his arms around his stomach. All his wounds have long since healed but the lingering phantom pain made his skin feel raw.

Suddenly, there was a tiny inhale and in the silence of the room it sounded like the crack of thunder. Spencer eyed the mutant on the ground with wariness, and he shuffled back until his back met the cold wall. From his position, Spencer watched as the mutant pushed himself up and ran fingers through his hair before palming his face.

"Merde. Dat stung." The man in front of him hissed, before continuing to mumble at himself.

"De connards 'ere are smart, dey keep all the keys outside 'fore dey enter." As the stranger ran his hands over his eyes and through his hair, Spencer could see tiny violet sparks dance on the air around him.

Spencer's eyes widened at the realization that the man must have faked his collapse. There was a sly, cunningness in every move the stranger made, and Spencer couldn't help the tiny sliver of fear-awe-respect that blossomed in his chest. However, he wasn't able to avert his eyes fast enough before the man caught Spencer's eyes and flashed him a dazzling wink.

Spencer could feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but he fisted the thin, threadbare blanket beneath him as he willed himself not to react. The too-wide smirk on the man's face dimmed in the face of Spencer's silence but he still staggered up and gave Spencer a warm smile.

"Bonjour, cher. Name's Remy LeBeau. What's a beau chéri like y' doin' in a place like dis?"

The man, Remy -his mind whispered- must have been an excellent emotional manipulator because that low, drawling voice was just the right pitch to make his knees turn to jelly. Spencer had never heard anyone's voice sound that soothing...tha-that safe in a long time.

It made Spencer feel like he was rolling in sunlight on the warm, white sands of the oceans and his chest tightened. The last time Spencer had felt this warm was when he was in his mother's arms before she was murdered.

The choking, constricting feeling around his throat and the prickling sensation of tears in the corners of his eyes threatened to spill so, in desperation, he wrestled his walls down and swallowed his yearning. Without acknowledging his new room-mate, Spencer shuffled back until he was practically hugging the wall and kept his head down until his long, shaggy hair hid him from the world. From his spot huddled against the wall, Spencer heard Remy sigh before he took a seat on the floor against the sink. Spencer closed his eyes when the drowsiness made the edges of his vision fuzzy and felt his mind slowly sink into much-needed sleep, but before Spencer dropped off his empathy registered the new presence as safe.