Seventy two hours was the required hold time for someone after an attempted suicide. Seventy two hours in which they kept Remy inside of that hospital room. After the emotional upheaval of the first day, his visitation was restricted, which really only served to make him feel more lost and isolated. He didn't even get the buffer of anyone around him. Just an empty room only occasionally occupied by nursing staff or the doctors. Remy responded to it by curling himself up in the bed and sleeping. Just, sleeping. Even the stupid shrink coming in didn't stir him. He didn't want to talk to the man anymore. Why bother? He was so sure they were going to keep him here anyways. Why would they let him free when this was done? He knew how it worked. Hell, he was lucky they hadn't locked him in the psych ward already.
There was only one bright spot in those seventy two hours. Only one thing that gave him a tiny bit of hope. At one point as he was lying there thinking about everything and nothing, he heard what sounded like shouting. The shouting sounded almost—familiar. It was enough to actually stir him out of bed. Though he didn't open his door, he did lean against the wall right by it and listen. What he heard eased just a tiny bit of the ache inside of him.
"You think isolating him is the answer?" Spencer was shouting at someone. Spencer, shouting! They had to have pissed him off a lot to get him like that. The shy young genius didn't yell. He snapped, yes, and he could occasionally growl at Remy with the best of them, but shouting? It took a whole hell of a lot to get him to that point .Yet he was clearly yelling now. "You need to let me back there. You have no idea what you're dealing with! Shut him away like that and you might as well hand him my gun. It'd be quicker!"
Spencer was out there, fighting, for him. He was fighting to come and see Remy.
A little bit of the fear in Remy faded with that. Just a little, though. It was enough to give him hope that maybe he hadn't really chased Spencer away. That maybe he really was going to stick around just like he said.
By the time the psychiatric hold was let up on Remy, he had talked himself up and down a thousand times, bouncing between being sure that Spencer was going to be there, to being sure he would be long gone. So when he came out of his room and found his best friend standing in the waiting room with Logan, smiling at him, the relief was so great he almost collapsed underneath it.
Logan clasped his shoulder when he got close, giving a squeeze that conveyed all the words the two never had to say between each other. Remy soaked up the positive touch he knew he didn't deserve. But it was nothing compared to the feelings in him when Spencer stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. Guilt, self-hatred and joy all combined together inside of Remy for an almost nauseating mix. Yet, he couldn't keep himself from lifting his good arm carefully and using it to tug Spencer in even closer. He always loved hugs from Spencer. The genius wasn't that physical with most people and Remy always counted it as a win when he was with him. Plus, Spencer gave amazing hugs. He wasn't one of those people that tried to wrap themselves around you and smother you with their hugs. He never wrapped his arms around your neck and strangled you with them. He just sort of, stepped up and, burrowed in. His arms would slip around Remy's waist and he'd burrow in against him, his face fitting perfectly in the curve of Remy's neck. It was like he was made to fit there. Remy wanted to shove him away and to never let him go.
"I'm sorry, they wouldn't let me see you." Spencer murmured against him. He pulled back and looked up at Remy's face, the fact that he was trying to make eye contact showing just how serious he was. "I had to pull a few strings to get you released into my care as it was. They set the condition that I had to have an appointment already made for you to see someone else before they would agree to release you to me."
That wasn't that surprising. Remy had known he wasn't going to get out of this without regular visits to a shrink. The fact that Spencer managed to keep them from putting him on a locked ward was amazing enough.
As if Spencer knew what he was thinking, his expression softened. "I wouldn't let them do that to you again, Rem. I know what those places are like for you." Something on his face changed a little as they finally broke their hug, something that had Remy bracing for bad news. Sure enough, "I arranged for some time off, though. I'll be coming back to the mansion with you."
Back to the mansion? The feeling of panic hit Remy like a fist to the gut. Judging by way that Spencer's eyes widened and he sucked in a breath, Remy knew Spencer must've been able to pick up on that feeling, which meant that Remy's shields weren't working the way they were supposed to.
Logan saved the situation from getting any worse by quickly grabbing hold of Remy's shoulder once more and grounding him with just that touch. Then he said the only thing that could've calmed Remy in that moment. "Rogue aint there, Gumbo. She's staying out with Emma on the other coast right now. An no one else in the house knows anything about this. They know the two of ya broke up, but they don't know about none of this."
No one else knew? But…what? Remy felt so lost. That wasn't at all what he'd been expecting.
Everything felt so strange and off for him. Nothing was happening the way he expected it to. He couldn't seem to get his feet underneath himself again. Everything was just, wrong. Strange and wrong and nothing at all like what he was expecting. He didn't know how to handle all this; how to handle their caring. He wasn't even supposed to be here anymore! Remy was supposed to be dead and gone so he wouldn't have to feel like this anymore. So he wouldn't have to live like this. All of these emotions, all these feelings that were just snaking around inside of him, twisting him up, and he couldn't seem to fight against them the way he usually could. He couldn't push them back or hide behind his usual mask. All the parts of him that he'd worked so hard to keep hidden now felt like they were lying right out there, open and exposed. Could he really go back to the mansion like this? Even if the others didn't know, could he really go there while he felt like this?
Long fingers suddenly threaded through his. Remy looked down with surprise at where Spencer's hand was lightly holding his and then he looked up to his face to find Spencer watching him. "I'll be right there with you, Rem." Spencer murmured lowly, his voice pitched for Remy and Remy alone. "I didn't leave you alone last time and I'm not going to this time, either. I'll be right here."
Remy couldn't form words past the lump in his throat. Silent, all he could do was squeeze Spencer's hand and hope he understood just how much it meant to Remy, especially after all that he'd done to push him away before and the horrible words he'd said.
The way that Spencer smiled at him had Remy thinking that maybe, yeah, he did understand.
They drove from DC to New York in Spencer's little Honda Civic. It had to be one of the single most awkward rides that Remy had ever been a part of. He wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone, thank you very much, so he just curled up in the backseat and tried to ignore the two men in the front. For the most part, it worked, except for every way that it didn't. For some reason he just couldn't shut off his damn awareness of Spencer. It wasn't a bad thing, really. It wasn't like he was uncomfortable being around him. Or, well, not too much, and most of that stemmed from his own personal guilt. It was just…
It was so damn easy to be here with Spencer. Even if they weren't saying a word. Remy would look up sometimes and he'd catch Spencer's eye in the rearview mirror and the air between them felt like his charge was tingling in it. So he'd turn away, make himself stare out the window, but even that didn't change that easy feeling inside of him, the one that always came in Spencer's presence. He'd never had this feeling with Rogue or even with anyone else. For the longest time, Remy hadn't thought anything of it. It was just how it was. Being with Spencer was easy. With him, Remy never had to pretend. He never had to fake it. It was relaxed and himself in ways he never was anywhere else. He hadn't realized that this wasn't normal. That this was how he should be with a partner. Not until Rogue had pointed it out to him and demanded to know why he wasn't this way with her.
Now—now the easy feeling he always had with Spencer was tainted by the knowledge that this apparently wasn't normal. That it was part of this thing inside of him, this part of him that had been made wrong.
He found himself picking at the bandage on his arm in a nervous gesture that he quickly tried to still. The bandage was well hidden underneath his sleeves but somehow he'd slipped his fingers under there and had started picking at it without realizing it. His fingers kept being drawn there over and over. As if he had to touch it to remind himself that it really was real. That he had tried this and had failed. Again. Just as he failed at everything else.
Trying to distract himself, Remy let his gaze drift around the car, wishing absently that he had a pair of sunglasses at least to hide behind. His eyes went across Logan, who was currently telling Spencer something in a low rumble that Remy didn't even try and listen to, and the Cajun had to fight not to flinch. His hand twitched like it would go back to his bandage again only to end up dropping down to tap against his leg in a small gesture of agitation that he usually didn't let show. He was nervous around Logan and unable to really explain why. There was nothing to be nervous about with him; he'd showed that back at the hospital. Logan wasn't judging or criticizing him for this. They just…weren't talking.
A part of him thought that maybe he would've preferred Logan to lecture or judge him, or even yell at him. That was something he knew how to deal with. That, he could handle. He knew how to deal with people telling him he was stupid or worthless and an idiot. But, for all his growling and blustering, that just wasn't Logan's way. Logan would tell you when you were being stupid, sure, but he wasn't the type to kick a person when they were down. He would pamper a little without ever admitting that that's what he was doing, and spoil them slightly in ways he could play off or ways that no one else could see, and he'd be there when needed. But he wouldn't yell at a person he felt was mentally down.
Still, Remy kind of wished he would. He wished at least one person would. He'd been so fucking stupid here. Couldn't one person have the balls to say it to him?
He closed his eyes and bowed his head down. Without realizing it, his hand was rubbing over the bandage again. Even as there was a part of him that was so infuriated at him for failing, there was another part of him that kept telling him that trying to commit suicide was the stupidest thing he had ever done. He had been raised better than to try something like that. Life's problems were faced down and dealt with, not run away from. But, Dieu, he was so tired of facing them! He'd been fighting and fighting for so long, there wasn't much left in him to fight with. He was so tired.
It took what felt like forever for them to get to Xavier's home. At the same time it was nowhere near long enough. When Spencer parked the car in front of the house, it took so much effort for Remy to make himself actually climb out. Even then, he just stood there for a moment, trying so damn hard to keep his masks in place as he stared up at the house in front of him that had, for a short while, been a sanctuary for him. It didn't feel like that anymore. Any safety he'd felt here was gone.
Remy didn't want to face the people of the house. He didn't want to go in there and have to face them all. His palms started to sweat and he felt the nerves in his stomach jumping, making him nauseous. He couldn't do this. He couldn't. He wasn't ready for it yet! Without realizing, he started backing up, preparing to escape. A firm hand on his arm stopped him. Startled, he looked up to find Logan right there watching him with far too much understanding in those blue eyes of his. However, there was firmness mixed in with that understanding and Remy knew there would be no escape.
The feral man moved in a little closer to him. "Chin up." He said in a voice so low, Remy doubted that even Spencer—who was just on Remy's other side—could hear it. "You've faced worse than this, Gumbo. This aint nothing. All you gotta do is walk in there and go upstairs—that's it. You aint gotta stop and talk to anyone you don't wanna."
He was trying to be reassuring in that gruff way of his and any other time Remy might've appreciated it. Right then, it just wasn't helping. The nausea was still there, rolling around his belly. Before it could rise up any more and choke him, he was startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a snort off to his other side. Surprise had him turning to look. He found Spencer lounging against the trunk of the car, their bags slung over one shoulder, and watching him with a little half smile on his face.
Logan looked surprised as well. His eyebrows furrowed as he gave Spencer a strange look. "What's so funny, bub?"
The 'bub' instead of 'kid' was a slight warning, Remy knew, that was telling Spencer to answer carefully. But Spencer's smile just grew into one that Remy recognized as fond. "I think the last time I saw you this nervous to see people, you'd accidentally knocked over Garcia's vase. I'd never seen you so panicked before."
A startled laugh burst from Remy. He remembered the time Spencer was talking about and the memory of it brought a real, honest smile to his lips. Some of his tension drained away. While Logan's gruff coddling was comforting, in its own way, Spencer's light teasing was comfortable and familiar. The only person in the world that Spencer felt comfortable enough with to use his dry and occasionally strange sense of humor with was Remy. Remy had been the only person to ever get it without being offended or too confused. Hearing it now gave Remy a little solid ground to stand on in a world that had felt like quicksand these past few days. It told him that Spencer had been telling the truth when he'd promised Remy that he wouldn't treat him with kid gloves.
"Bite me." Remy teased back, grinning. His grin was just a shade false, not quite up to par, but neither man called him on it. "Dat femme is fuckin' terrifyin' when she gets pissed. Y' go an tell her y' broke somet'ing an try not to be scared of her!"
"She wouldn't hurt me." An impish grin lit up Spencer's face. "She says I look too sad to stay mad at."
The trio were still laughing as they made their way up to the house.
Spencer was grateful when they encountered no one once they stepped inside Xavier's home. Something told him he had Scott or Jean to thank for that, or even Ororo. Later on he'd have to seek them out and thank them. The last thing Remy really needed was to be confronted by some sort of welcome home group. It'd be easier for him if he could greet them one on one, in stages, then be forced to face them all at once.
During the seventy-two hours that Remy had been shut up alone in that hospital room, Spencer hadn't simply been waiting out in the waiting room. He'd taken care of quite a lot of business. First things first had been arranging his time off. Thankfully, he'd had Derek to help with that. The man had told Spencer to just leave it to him and he'd handle it all. Sure enough, he'd called Spencer only hours later and told him that Aaron said to take all the time he needed. Spencer was beyond grateful to have a friend like Derek on his side.
The next thing, of course, had been dealing with the hospital. Arranging for Remy's care wasn't anywhere near as easy as he played it off to Remy, or to anyone else really. It'd taken a lot of fast talking, some pushing, and even a small hint of manipulation in the form of using his empathy to calm the people around him. It had definitely helped his case when he'd not only explained to them that Remy was a being who required freedom and safe human contact to improve, but he'd also had an outside doctor verify that—the very same doctor that Remy was now going to be seeing. For the moment he was going to be under outpatient treatment with an older woman by the name of Alisha who ran a private practice here in New York. His first appointing was going to be tomorrow, even. Whether Remy liked it or not.
As he sat on Remy's bed and watched the Cajun unpack his bag, he knew Remy was very firmly going to be in the not column. He hated therapy.
Remy had been so quiet about things and Spencer had promised himself not to push it. That's what Alisha was going to be for. She could be the one to push and prod and force Remy along the road to recovery. Spencer would be there to help support him and do whatever he could to keep him going, and to hold him together when he felt like he couldn't. It was the same thing Spencer had done last time. He'd done it then and he could do it now. No matter how much his insides hurt.
Because Remy had been quiet for so long, it was even more of a surprise when he settled down on the bed and looked at him with a serious look that Spencer knew meant he was about to say something important. "I wanna talk about t'ings, Penny. Talk about, y'know, us. About de t'ings we said b'fore."
Shock coursed through Spencer. He knew he was staring at Remy, but he couldn't help himself. He hadn't figured that Remy would ever want to talk about it, let alone in that calm of a voice. For a moment the genius gave thanks that Logan had left them alone once they'd reached Remy's room. It gave them the privacy they'd need for a conversation like this. Hesitantly, he asked "What do you want to know?"
The blush that colored Remy's cheeks was so very out of character and yet—cute. It made Spencer smile softly, releasing some of his shock. He could never resist smiling when Remy blushed. He'd always found it a sweet trait about the grown man. One of those sweet, quirky little things that no one else but him ever got to see. No one else would've even believed that the Cajun knew how to blush.
"I was, y'know, I was wondering after our talk…I had plenty of time to t'ink in dere and I just…have y', have y' really had dem kind of feelings fo' me, cher?" Remy asked shyly.
This was dangerous territory to get into after what had happened. Before he answered, Spencer looked long and hard at Remy's face. There were nerves there, that was obvious. A slight tension, too. But, he wasn't sure, he thought he saw curiosity in his eyes. Something else was there, something he couldn't figure out. Spencer chewed his lip as he thought, trying to figure out how to phrase his answer very carefully. Despite his promise to treat Remy just like normal, this was a delicate topic. "I have." He finally settled on saying, his voice soft yet solid, leaving no room for doubt. "I have for quite a while now. I just came to terms with the fact that you would never return them."
"Mais, don't it…don't it scare y'?" The words sounded like they were yanked from inside of Remy. From deep down inside in that place where the terrified boy in him lived. The part of him that had been beaten and broken and told so many times that he was wrong, always wrong. "Dis, it aint normal, Spencer. It's against every'ting I've been told to believe."
There was something in his voice that told Spencer to tread lightly. There was more than just a simple discussion going on. It sounded to him like Remy was trying to find the answers to his own problems. He was lost, unsure of what to do or how to act. On one hand, he had been raised to think that what he was feeling was the worst kind of sin. On the other, he was unable to deny what he felt any longer. He'd tried to make it go away and it hadn't worked. Now he was trying to find a way to live with it. How Spencer answered these questions could make a huge difference.
"Of course it scared me." Spencer said. It was true, too. "You know I wasn't raised as religious as you, but I still had the concept that it was wrong, just like most people. No one sits down and decides, hey, I think I'll be gay." That earned him a small smile from Remy. "I did the same thing you did, Rem. I tried to run from it. I tried to hide." He knew what it was like to hate a part of yourself. The way that he'd grown up had taught him to hate who he was in so many different ways. It took him years and a lot of work to come to terms with being pansexual. Years of being picked on, of being called fag and freak and fairy. Years of people chasing him down and playing 'smear the queer'. "I took a lot of beatings for who I am. Not just from other people but from myself as well. I did things, stupid things. In the end I finally realized that I had to work through it or I was going to lose myself. I had to come to terms with how I felt. It scared the living hell out of me."
"But y' seem so, comfortable, now."
Spencer laughed. "Well yeah, now, Rem. It's taken me a lot of counseling and self-analyzing to get to this point. I had to accept that what I felt wasn't wrong, just different. That love, in any way, shape, or form, is exactly what we were intended to have in this life. The therapist I saw helped me see that no emotion is wrong. They're all a part of you, and if you deny them, you're denying who you are."
That seemed to set Remy back for a minute. His expression was so withdrawn, the way it always got when he had something serious to think about. That was fine. Spencer was used to that look from the many deep conversations they'd had during their friendship. It didn't mean that he was closing off; it just meant that he was thinking.
When he finally spoke again, his voice was soft and thoughtful. "It scares me, cher. I love Rogue, I do! I should want to spend de rest of m' life with her. Dat's normal. Mais, merde, when I see y' sometimes, m' heart picks up pace. Goin' to visist with y'—it's all I ever want. When y' laugh, I smile. When y'r sad and hurtin', it hurts me t'see it. All I wanna do is wrap m' arms around y' and chase it all away."
His words were lighting a fire inside of Spencer. He had never expected to have this kind of conversation with Remy. To hear him say the things he was saying. It had never seemed like a possibility. Now that it was here, he was almost speechless. Remy continued on.
"I lost interest in m' own girlfriend. I don't even try to hold her any anymore, let alone anyt'ing else. I don't never want to, not like I used to. I don't even t'ink about it! Mais I get around y' an I just wanna touch y', all de time. I do it without even t'inking about it. An when I catch m'self, I just wanna do it more. How is dat normal? How is dat right?"
Taking the wonderful feelings that that gave him and locking them away, Spencer tried to focus on the more serious part of it. "Nothing is perfectly normal, Rem. Every person's version of normal is different to how they feel. To me, it's normal to want to touch you, or to enjoy being touched by you. It's normal to feel things for you that I don't feel for anyone else—that I have never felt for anyone else." He paused for a second and then shrugged. "As for right, well—who knows what's right for each of us? Are you telling me it's wrong for me to be happy? That the joy I feel when I see you laugh and smile is wrong? That loving someone is wrong just because the couple is different than what's considered normal or socially acceptable? Under that theory, interracial couples would be wrong too, because they're different and there are people who don't approve. Is that what you think, Rem?"
Shocked, Remy's eyes shot up to his face, wide with surprise and entirely open in that moment, all his emotion right out there to be seen. "Non, Spencer! Dieu, non! I aint racist!"
He was so offended, Spencer had to laugh. "I know you're not, Rem. I was just making a point. There are lots of things that are different from the normal way of life, but that doesn't make them wrong. Shouldn't we embrace love when we find it? Something beautiful like that is rare; it shouldn't be wasted."
"Je ne sais pas, Penny. I don't." His lips quirked up in a wry grin and he reached up with one hand to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck. "It's hard to t'ink when I sit here with y'. Y' make it sound so…so easy. A part of me wants to believe y' when y' talk. Mais dere's dat other part of me dat just falls back on what I've always been told—dat a relationship b'tween a man an another man is against nature. Dat it was never somet'ing God intended t'happen. He intended men and women to love an reproduce."
"So since I can't give you a baby, that means I can't be with you?" Spencer argued. "If a gay couple ever wanted kids, there are plenty in the world who have no parents at all, who live in foster homes." He was getting into their discussion, actually enjoying the debating of points. He had always loved debating with Remy. They'd had some of the liveliest discussions with neither one of them afraid to say what they felt. No one else had ever bothered to sit and talk with Remy the way that he did. No one seemed to see past the shields that he put up and down to the sharp mind inside. They saw the lazy image that he put out there and accepted it as truth. They didn't realize just how bright he really was.
A hint of a real smile broke through on Remy's face. He'd dropped his hands down to his lap once more and was mirroring Spencer's seated position, turned towards him so that they could look right at one another. "I t'ink we're gonna have to agree to disagree fo' now, cher. It's been too long since I debated somet'ing with y'. I need time to t'ink of m' own arguments. I know I had some valid ones at some point."
The grin that Spencer gave him was cheeky and a little smug. It wasn't a normal expression on his face and it made Remy's smile a little warmer. "I'll let you off the hook—for now. But," Spencer held a figure up. "For the moment, concede that I won. I made very valid points."
Remy took a seated bow, gesturing with his hand at Spencer. "I concede."
Something flashed through Remy's eyes, there and gone again so quickly Spencer wasn't sure that he'd seen it. But his emotions—God, his emotions! Spencer felt the way they changed, the good mood he'd been in suddenly plummeting with a sharpness that made Spencer flinch ever so slightly. That was something he'd never gotten used to and didn't think he ever would. The mood swings that came with things like depression could be so sudden and jarring sometimes.
They'd been doing so well with their debate here! Spencer had made sure to carefully monitor Remy's emotions while they did so he could know whether or not he was pushing him too far. They'd been doing fine! But now, now that they weren't talking anymore, now that he'd made his points, apparently it was all sinking for Remy and his mood was plummeting more and more with each passing second. Spencer watched as Remy reached over to his arm where he knew the bandage was hidden underneath his sleeve. Remy's emotions sunk lower and lower and Spencer wanted to cy for him. It felt like there was this dark pit inside of him, trying to swallow him whole, and he knew it was only an echo of what Remy was feeling right in that moment. That sense of self-hatred and disgust and so much pain, all of it wrapping around him, sucking him down, ripping apart everything good that he'd just felt. In that moment Spencer was grateful he couldn't hear the thoughts to go with the emotions.
Before he realized what he was doing, he was curling his hand over Remy's wrist, stopping him from reaching under his sleeve to mess with his bandage. He'd leaned forward to do it and when Remy tipped his head up to look at him, Spencer realized just how close he'd gotten, how close their faces were. Remy's eyes went wide and the breath he let out was just the slightest bit shaky. "Spencer?"
Spencer's thumb stroked over the inside of Remy's wrist. He felt the man's pulse jump underneath his touch. Unable to speak, he simply stared into Remy's eyes. He knew what was coming, knew what Remy was about to do, and he couldn't bring himself to move or to even care. Once, just once, he wanted to know what it was like. He wanted to have this. Later, he would hate himself for being so selfish. But there, able to feel the pain inside Remy, the tiny thread of need and longing that wove through it all, he couldn't bring himself to stop this. Remy leaned forward and Spencer found himself holding his breath; he lost that breath when Remy's lips pressed hesitantly against his.
Oh, God! The kiss was by far the most chaste, sweetest kiss that Spencer had ever had, and it was perfect, so perfect. Remy was hesitant in his touch, his lips warm and soft, and Spencer gave it right back to him, not demanding but giving and taking with a tenderness that he could feel Remy melting into.
The kiss was short and sweet, and when Spencer pulled back he could see the emotions swirling around in Remy's eyes just as clearly as he could feel them. Their kiss has left the both of them stunned and breathless. Neither one had ever been so affected by a single kiss so strongly before.
Spencer lifted his free hand and gave into the urge to trail his fingertips so lightly against Remy's cheek. "Think about it, Rem." He murmured lowly. "Something that makes us feel like that, how is it wrong? There's no way that some mystical creator who's said to loves us, who they say wants us to be happy—I just can't see how he would deny us these kinds of feelings, this kind of love. Just, think about it." That said, he forced himself to rise, to move before he did anything more or took anymore liberties. On slightly shaky legs he moved to the in-suite bathroom, not bothering to fully shut the door behind him. He'd just, he'd give himself a few minutes in here to calm down, and he'd give Remy a few minutes as well. They both needed it right then.
Okay, folks, I won't be back until after the Christmas holiday, so, happy holidays to all of you!