Sitting on the table in the medical lab—and hadn't that been a bit of a surprise, being brought down here to the sublevels and seeing what exactly was hidden in this house—Spencer swung his legs slightly, waiting for the doctor to come in. When he'd first entered the Med Lab, Dr. McCoy had told him to go put on a gown and have a seat and he'd be there in a moment. Well used to doctors and scientists alike, Spencer had gone straight to the table and stripped down to his skin before putting on the typical hospital gown. Any of his usual shyness wasn't present here. He'd never felt it; not in a medical setting. Modesty had been something that he'd had to learn, not something that he'd ever had early on in his life. Medical labs had been so much a part of his life, no matter the pain that had been inflicted there. There were some days they felt more like home than anything else.
It amused him that his 'escort' had taken up a place nearby once Spencer had changed. Logan caught him looking at him and raised an eyebrow. "You want me to go wait outside till you're done?" He was sticking around so that he could take Spencer to the Danger Room afterwards if he was declared healthy.
The idea of making him leave made Spencer smile. "Hell, honey, I don't mind if you don't." This was nothing special. When he was staying with Sir full time, he was subjected to daily physicals to go with the experiments.
Dr. McCoy came walking over there, gloves stretched over his furry hands, a smile on his face. "Welcome to my lab, young man. Charles tells me that your ankle has healed. He explained to me about your healing abilities. Most fascinating, I must say." While he spoke, he reached out and took Spencer's wrist, checking his pulse. "Hmm, you have a higher than normal heart rate."
"I always have." Spencer assured him. "I also run, on average, at one hundred point five instead of ninety eight point six."
"Fascinating." He said again.
The room went quiet as he ran through the typical vitals check. When he was done, he set the blood pressure cuff on a cart to his side and looked from Spencer to Logan and back again. Reading that look, Spencer smiled. "Oh, it's ok. I don't mind him being here. What do you need me to do, big guy?"
Usually being called 'big guy' by others made Hank grumble slightly. But there was something about this new young one that made it hard to get mad at him. Hank shook his head at that before telling him "I need you to pull your gown down to your waist an lie on your back so I can check your stomach."
Spencer easily did as he was told, settling himself down on his back with his arms loose at his sides, grateful that he still had his sunglasses on so that the lights wouldn't hurt his eyes. He was far too light sensitive. Gentle hands surprised him by touching, not on his stomach, but on his left hip. "These are some pretty strong scars. I thought you had healing ability?"
"I do." Spencer tried to think of a way to explain this to them. "It's not an instant heal. It's more, accelerated. So my body goes through the normal healing process—just a lot faster, which means I get the scars to go with it because that's part of a normal healing process, you know?"
Hank seemed to contemplate his words. "How different. I've never seen a healing ability quite like that." His fingers traced the scars once more. Spencer knew which ones they were. Two were on the front of his hip and one on the backside; there was a mirror set on the other side. He remembered perfectly the night that he got them and the feel of those talons cutting into his skin. He had to push that image down before it made him shudder. As if sensing his patient's sudden discomfort, Hank moved on from the scars and started the abdominal exam. "Do you know any of your medical history, Spencer? Is there anything I might need to know or check for? Any diseases that run in your family or any conditions I should be made aware of?"
He'd been prepared for that question and already had his answer ready in his mind with the pertinent information. If he was going to be treated here for anything at all, there were a few things they did need to know and some they didn't. "No diseases in my family that I know of, and I don't have any conditions. I've had three pervious surgeries. One here…" he paused, lifting a hand to touch the scar on his left shoulder. "One here…" next he touched his right side. "And one here." He reached down, touching his knee. "I also have a sensitivity to light and slightly improved night vision." That made him pause and shudder. He absolutely hated the dark. Hated it. "My night vision only works if there's some form of light to work with, though. I can't see in pitch black. The only other thing I can think of off the top of my head is medication—I can't take any."
That stopped Hank. He stepped back to look down at Spencer with shock. "What?"
"I can't take meds. Well, I can, but there's no point. My body doesn't process them properly. Pain medication is a sort of hit and miss; some work and some don't. Narcotics react strangely in me. Sedatives make me slightly sleepy but I burn them off too fast for them to be effective…" Spencer cut himself off as his empathy picked up on the horror the two with him were feeling. Raising himself up on his elbows, he looked from one to the other, trying to read their faces. "What? What is it?"
"You had three surgeries to remove bullets from your body, but you can't be anesthetized or medicated for pain? How on earth did they perform the surgery, then?" Hank asked him gruffly.
Spencer gave him a strange look. "The sedatives keep me sleepy and my empathy allows me to dull my own emotional awareness. In a sense, it's like I cut off my connection to the pain receptors in my brain. I feel it but I don't, if that makes sense." He could see that his explanation didn't really help them feel any better and he didn't quite understand it. None of the surgeries had been anything extremely invasive. They were just removing bullets and the like. His empathy let him cut off those sensations so they were only dull, barely felt. In a sense, it was almost like he was unconscious. Wasn't that the same as sedation? What pain did leak through, well, he knew how to deal with it. He offered them a smile as he quoted "Someone once said 'Pain is weakness leaving the body. The question isn't how much more you can take, but how much more can you give. Just when you are ready to quit, your mind says push harder. You listen, sensing an inner strength that wasn't there before. And suddenly you discover-you no longer feel the pain.'"
His quotation seemed to surprise them. After he said it, he realized that it didn't fit in with the image he was trying to present to them here. He was letting some of the smart guy slip through and that wasn't who he was trying to be here. To try and lighten the mood, he added on one more fact. "Oh! I almost forgot. You probably don't want to stick me in an MRI machine or anything like that." His grin was impish as he sat up straight. "I have a bit of a tendency to accidentally fry them. It's just a little too much electricity around me, begging to be touched."
They both chuckled at that and seemed to understand that the medication topic was closed now.
The rest of the exam went easy enough for Spencer. The only little hitch they hit was the eye exam, which Spencer politely declined, only saying that he still had a bit of a headache and could he please do that later. In his eyes, things went well, and there seemed to be no real trouble. But Hank was talented at hiding his own emotions and he did just that as he finished his examination. None of the anger or the heartache he felt as he uncovered each new scar was allowed to show through. The amount of scarring he found on the boy's body was absolutely horrible. Beyond that, it was infuriating, knowing that someone had been treated this way. When they were done, Hank left Spencer to dress on his own and drew Logan over into his office, shutting the door. The window in the door allowed them to watch Spencer as they spoke privately.
"What's up, Blue?" Logan didn't waste time once the door was shut.
Hank looked out the window to the boy that was dressing, his eyes traveling over the tattoo on his back. A few forks of jagged lightning were blazing down his back in blues and whites and purples, looking almost real. He knew, however, what they covered. "I strongly urge you to keep an eye on that boy, Logan. Not because I'm worried for our sake, but for his."
That definitely had Logan's attention. "What do you mean?"
"We know nothing of his past, correct?" At Logan's nod, Hank sighed. "Well, I can take a guess at some of it. Most definitely that boy has spent time in a lab before. He shows a sign of intelligence when it comes to how this works and he moves through a physical like it's a natural thing for him. Judging by the scarring in his inner elbows, I would guess that he's either an addict, or …"
"Or they're medical." Logan concluded, his expression thoughtful. He'd seen marks like that on another friend before.
A soft sigh slid from Hank. "Correct, my friend. Some of his other scars show a slightly medical feel to them as well." It wasn't just Logan that had been reminded of their other friend. Hesitating only a moment, Hank added, "In a way, they remind me of some of the scars our Cajun friend possesses." And they knew where those had come from. After Antarctica, after the truth came out, everyone knew of Remy's time as Sinister's science experiment. They knew at least some of the tests and torture the Cajun had been put through under that man's hands. To think that yet another boy, another empath, had gone through it was chilling.
The similarities between the two of them hadn't escaped Logan's notice. "You notice how many ways he and Rems seem to be alike? Both empaths. Both have some kind of charge. Now, apparently, both tortured by some scientist. Remy, well, you know what his charm does. And Spencer, he doesn't seem to hide that he is or was one."
"It is rather startling. But there are differences as well, my friend. Where young Remy has to almost be dragged into my lab for any kind of work, Spencer seems to be almost completely at ease in here. Also, Spencer does not seem to carry this hatred or sadness that Remy once did."
Another sigh slid from Logan. This time it surprised Hank, who turned to look at his feral friend. The sadness on Logan's face stunned him. Looking out at Spencer, Logan shook his head. "That makes it worse. He's not upset about it, Blue. He's resigned. To him, this is just what life is. He doesn't know any other way to know he should be upset by it."
The two watched Spencer for a moment longer, the boy finally dressed and patiently lounging against the table. Finally Logan looked back to Hank. "I'll keep an eye on him. I got a feeling there's more to this kid than meets the eye and I'm gonna find out before it comes to bite us all in the ass."
That said, he opened the door and stepped out of Hank's office.
Once he'd gotten dressed, Spencer knew better than to go over to the two in the office. It was obvious they'd gone in there to talk about him where he couldn't hear them. Not surprising, really. He just ignored them and settled himself in against the table to wait. It didn't take very long before he heard the door open. Spencer looked up as Logan came walking over. "Come on, kid, let's get you to the Danger Room. You seem to be in good enough health. Let's go see what you're made of, now."
It was easy for Spencer to push off of the table and wink. "You think you can handle me?" he flirted jokingly. Though ferals usually made Spencer nervous, this one seemed a little easier to be around than most. He didn't set off any of Spencer's internal warnings the way that some people could. If anything, his presence was soothing. For all that a he was dangerous, he was at least a danger that Spencer knew well and could predict. He'd learned over the years that ferals were just as capable of feeling things as anyone else, but they felt things just a bit differently. Stronger. More, simple. If they were mad, they were mad, and you knew it. If they were happy, you knew it. Their emotions were more primal, more open, without some of the mixed up bits that the rest of the world could get.
To his utter delight, Logan flirted back just as casually. "Aint come across a boy yet I haven't been able to tame."
A feel of Logan's emotions told him the feral man was amused by their conversation. No lust was coming from him, so he wasn't taking the words seriously, thank God. The ease he was feeling around Logan right now made it simpler to play the part he knew he had to. Laughing, Spencer stepped up and put his hand in the curve of Logan's arm, smiling down at him. He channeled just a little bit of Penelope in that moment, bringing to mind the way he'd seen her interact with Derek, and tried to use it to help him respond to Logan. "Big strong man like you? Bet you don't even have to try. The boys and girls just fall at your feet, don't they?"
Logan raised his eyebrows and looked down at their moving feet before looking back up at Spencer with a smirk. "Don't see you there." They were rounding a corner at the time and Spencer took advantage of it to curve his body, sliding easily down to his knees in a graceful move. He looked up through his bangs at the man that was now grinning down at him. "You lunatic." Logan growled playfully. He grabbed Spencer's arm and pulled him up one handed. "Get on your feet."
"I couldn't have you make me wrong, now could I?" Spencer joked. His hand went back into the curve of Logan's arm, resting there easily. About then was when Spencer looked up and saw Scott and Remy both standing outside of a doorway. They were both grinning at them.
"Did we miss out on something?" Scott called out jokingly. "Do I need to be kicking some ass?"
Logan laughed and looked over at Spencer before looking at Scott. "You've got nothing to worry about, Scooter. The kid wishes he were so lucky." He broke apart from Spencer as he said it, sending him a grin that had Spencer shaking his head and laughing.
Whatever had caused the feral's fine spirits, Spencer wasn't going to protest it. He put his hands on his hips and mockingly shook his head. "You couldn't afford me, honey." He said with a fake sniff before turning toward Scott and Remy. Meanwhile, his brain logged away what he'd just learned in the mental file he was slowly building. Surprising as it seemed, it appeared that Logan and Scott were a couple. That was an interesting fact. Hadn't Jean introduced Scott as her husband earlier? It was something that he would have to think on later.
Before they could keep going, Scott held his hands out. "Enough, enough. Let's get this session going before we run over into training times. Spencer, we're going to go ahead and put you here in what we call the Danger Room. This room can simulate any scene we choose to set in here. We're going to set you up and pull up a simulation of a cityscape. I'm not going to stick in any civilians; all I'm putting in is bots. What you need to do is use your powers and anything else to destroy any bot you come across, okay? That'll let us see your strength and control as well as how you use your powers and where you need some work. From there we can figure out who your best instructor will be and what you need help with."
"Sounds simple enough." He was glad he'd dressed comfortably. That would make this easier.
"Good." Nodding, Scott looked to the other two. "You two are welcome to come up to the control room with me. We'll be in there, Spencer, watching the whole thing. If at any time you feel you have to stop, just shout out for us to stop and I will. We'll be watching out for you, don't worry."
The door by them was opened and Spencer stepped inside when gestured. He heard the door shut and couldn't help but start to look around the room. There didn't seem to be anything special about this place. But, most likely they had to go to the control room to activate the simulation. He decided to take advantage of the moment to stretch himself out for what was to come and to use that stretching to allow him to check out the room around him. His eyes discreetly scanned the room behind his sunglasses as he ran through a basic set of stretches to loosen up his muscles and prepare his body. When he straightened up again, a voice came into the room. "Are you ready to start?"
"Ready when you are." He called back.
There was a pause and then "Is there any specific city you prefer? A place you'll be more comfortable to work in?"
That was an easy answer. "Las Vegas." Maybe it would set him more at ease if he could be on a familiar landscape.
A second later, the room around him transformed. It was a jarring sight, but he managed to maintain his feet, locking his surprise and curiosity behind his shield. Inside, he wanted nothing more than to start quizzing them, begging to know so many different things about this. How on earth was this simulation so real? He had a feeling that, if he could fly, he'd be able to soar up in the sky beyond where the ceiling to this room should stop him. How did they manage this kind of technology? It was amazing! The science geek inside of him was quiver; the other part of him knew they wouldn't answer anything right now. This was not for him to ask questions, anyways. This was a test. One that, for the sake of his assignment, he could not fail.
"Anything you see, destroy, Spencer."
Standing in the middle of the Las Vegas strip, the reminder seemed even stranger coming from seemingly nowhere. But Spencer grinned and saluted. Then he pushed the fun aside and pulled himself into fight mode. This was a part of himself that really hadn't been able to come out on his last job. There, he'd had to be a bit more uncoordinated, a bit bumbling. Kind of like he was naturally when he was deep in thought. Sir hadn't wanted him to show off any of his physical skills and make anyone suspicious of where he would've learned things like that. Now, after years of holding back, it felt good to let go, to relax himself and extend his powers in the way that he'd learned. He held perfectly still, reaching around him with his empathy, eyes scanning all around, searching for that first threat.
The first person came strolling out of an alley nearby. Spencer stayed still as the guy came toward him. Then, when he was close enough, he twisted his body quickly, and in a few well-placed blows he had the body on the ground. He backed up a few feet and waited for the next.
For a little bit they came at him one by one, never much of a challenge. Slowly, the skill level grew. They came in sets of twos, with stronger fighting skills. Then there were three. He managed to dispatch them all without an injury. When the next trio came out, one of them was a mutant that shot fire from little devices on his wrists. Now this was more like the training that Sir had put him through. Spencer blew out a breath and then darted underneath a jet of fire, his own hand shooting out toward the man. He sent a surge of electricity through the devices the boy wore, destroying them on his wrists. Then he drew that electricity out, making it into a whip to lash out at another of the mutants that came at him. In no time they lay around him, dissolving as they were 'destroyed'.
He kept the electric whip on him, coiling it around one hand and wrist, keeping it at the ready. When a new group came at him, five this time, he threw himself into the fight with all he was worth. The whip struck here and there while his body twisted and turned, punching and kicking and rolling as needed. A blow caught his chin, snapping his head back, and he responded by letting the force carry him into a backflip, landing him on his feet a few steps back. The electricity coursing in his system stimulated his nerves and sped up his reflexes, agility, even his strength in some ways. He let it fill him, giving him the ability to fight that he wouldn't have on his own.
More mutants seemed to suddenly be coming at him. He was going to be surrounded if he wasn't careful. Dodging to the side, he jumped at the nearby building, calling on the electricity in his hands to create the static electricity necessary to allow him to cling to the metal. Using that, he scaled halfway up, calculating what he would need to do in his mind as he went. Once he reached his mark, he braced his hands and feet and shoved backwards at the same time as gathering as much electricity as he could from the signs around him, using them to create himself an electric platform to land on. From there, he sent bolts of lightning down, working to keep it all under his control. He then leapt again, snagging the knives in his boots as he landed, his arms swirling to slice the chest of the one he'd landed closest to. His other hand snapped out when he spun, burying in the chest of another as he'd tried to sneak up behind Spencer.
Another mutant stepped up, hands pushing out as they sent a powerful energy blast Spencer's way. There was no time to dodge. Spencer planted his feet firmly and brought his own hands up, calling on the electrons in that energy, using those to convert the rest of the energy, to twist it and change it and claim it. Sweat broke out on his brow and his whole body seemed to tingle with the power he was gathering. With a cry, he wrenched control of the energy blast from her, turning it to pure electricity and firing it right back at her.
It had been too much to gather, though. Even after his blast, so much was riding in him, glowing along his skin, inside of him. He felt like he was a live current. More electricity gathered to him from the neon signs around him. Air crackled around him and the smell of ozone was sharp in his nose. It was too much. He could feel his control over it slipping and he knew it was simply too much. He had to stop it. He had to let it out before he lost complete control over it. Pain rocked through him, pounding in his head, aching in every inch of his body. He curled his hands into fists and steadied his feet, fighting the pain back. Then he called the electricity and forced it up into the sky. Lightning bolts struck all over the simulated city of Las Vegas. It was a lightning storm to rival any seen on earth. Each bolt pulsed from him, releasing a little more and a little more.
The last jolt of it ran through his body, dropping him down to his knees. His hands pressed against the concrete as multiple bolts shot down in a circle around him, pulling a scream past his lips as it all finally let him go. Finally, it was gone. It was done. His body sagged and he bowed his head, panting from exertion. A small spurt of pride sat in him. He had done it. He'd channeled out the excess. Granted, he couldn't create a storm like that in the real world, but it had done the trick now. It had poured out of him in the way that he had demanded, not under its own demands.
The scene around him changed again until the room was back to what it had originally been. Almost instantly the door opened and people shot inside. Before he could think to be concerned about being touched, a hand settled on the back of his shirt. "Spencer? Spencer? Can you hear me?" Logan's deep voice was practically growling at him. If he hadn't been so sore and exhausted, he would have made some smart remark. As it was, he managed to shift his weight so he dropped down on one hip. With a shaking hand, he reached behind him, grabbing his gloves from his pocket. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Except he couldn't seem to make his hands work enough to slide them on.
Logan took the gloves from him, gently holding one out, his fingers carefully out of the way. Spencer smiled gratefully at him and slipped a hand into each one as it was held out. Only then did he relax enough to look and see who had come in. Logan was right beside him, as well as Remy. He saw that Scott and a woman his mental files told him was Ororo were there as well. All of them were full of concern for him with a hint of something else. Was that…awe? Fear? He didn't want to know.
On a shuddered breath he brought a gloved hand up and ran it down his face. "Shit." The uncharacteristic curse slipped out on a slightly shuddered breath. The trembling got a little worse and he knew he was going to pay for that little display there. "I could eat my weight in food right about now."
For a second they all just stared at him. Then Ororo started to laugh; a soft, sweet sound that brought out everyone else's laughter.
Logan clapped a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Come on, pup. Let's go stuff that bottomless pit you call a stomach."
