For a few hours, Ororo worked in her gardens and then her greenhouse. She left Spencer where he was, keeping an eye on him as the sun started to fade from the sky and evening settled in. Now and again she saw him stir, his body twitching or his face scrunching up in a pained sort of way and she would feel her heart twist a little. The boy was obviously suffering from nightmares. She'd talked to Remy and knew that nightmares were what had been giving Spencer the tired look on his face. Lately he looked so exhausted. Oh, he was good at covering it up with makeup and that natural mask he wore. But she could see the exhaustion in the slight bags under his eyes, or the way his body would droop a little when he thought no one was looking. Her heart ached for him.
A hand on the small of her back almost startled Ororo until she recognized who it belonged to. Then she smiled and found herself leaning in to it. It was the touch of one of her dearest friends; Jean. The two had been the best of friends, almost like sisters, for quite a few years now. Jean was one of the people that Ororo trusted most in her life, right up alongside Remy.
"I don't want to wake him." Ororo said softly. Her eyes never left the greenhouse window that she was looking at him through. "Yet at the same time, I do not think his sleep is peaceful. My brother says that Spencer is having nightmares, but they are handling it. Yet…he looks so tired, Jean. So sad."
"He seems to be opening up to us more. I don't know what it is that Remy's doing, but it seems to be working." Jean said. Her tone was just as soft as her friend's. "He still hasn't told us what's going on with him, but I have a feeling it's going to be soon. His walls seem to be crumbling little by little."
Remembering their earlier conversation, Ororo felt her heart ache a little. "Earlier, he was walking, looking so sad, and he stumbled over my little kitten. You should have seen how amazed he looked when he picked it up. And when I told him I loved kittens, do you know what he told me?" Turning, Ororo looked at Jean, sadness bright in her eyes. "He told me how he always wanted one, but they were only for real children. Real children, Jean."
Gathering her friend close, Jean held on tight, her own heart throbbing at Ororo's words. "We're doing all we can for him, Ro. Part of it's up to him. He has to want our help." Pulling back, she smiled at the woman. "Why don't I call Logan down to get Spencer? Then you and I can go to your room and have ourselves a drink. I think we both need it."
It took no time at all for Logan to get down to the garden. Neither woman was surprised to see Scott in tow. While Logan went to Spencer, Scott went to the women. "Thanks for calling us down." He told them sincerely. "Remy's out doing something for the Professor and we've been wondering where Spencer was at."
"He fell asleep a few hours ago while I was gardening. I thought to just let him sleep a little." Ororo explained.
He nodded and looked back over his shoulder. Logan had squatted down beside Spencer and was gently moving to scoop him up. Then he looked back at them. "Good. He needed a little sleep. Not sure how restful tonight's going to be for him with Remy gone. He probably won't be back until tomorrow afternoon or later, depending on what he finds."
Understanding flashed in Jean's eyes. She knew her boys well. "I was going to spend the evening with Ro, but if you two need me I can be there." If they needed her help with Spencer; the message was clear underneath her words.
A soft smile curved Scott's lips. "No, it's okay. I think too many of us might overwhelm him, anyways." Leaning in, he caught Jean with a hand on her hip, pulling her in enough that he could steal a quick kiss. "You two have fun." Seeing Logan on his feet with Spencer cradled in his arms, Scott gave her another kiss and then he took off after Logan.
When he got close, he saw Spencer was slowly waking up and couldn't help but feel a little amused. Logan and Remy were probably the only two people in the house who moved carefully and quietly enough—and, according to Remy, who were capable of shielding their own emotions so as not to give themselves away to an empath—to be able to get up to a sleeping Spencer and actually manage to pick him up without waking him up. He'd already showed in so many ways that he had the instincts and reaction time of someone well used to having to defend themselves. Moments like this, though, with him looking soft from sleep, he looked less like the adult he was and more like a lost little child. Scott couldn't resist reaching out and brushing some of the kid's long hair out of his face. Sometimes there was something about Spencer that almost tugged at the edges of Scott's mind. It was like he felt he should know him somehow, but he couldn't quite figure out how. He thought maybe it wasn't so much that he should know Spencer, but that the boy reminded him of someone. But who?
"Logan? Scott?" Spencer murmured sleepily. He shifted a little in Logan's arms. "What's going on?"
"You passed out in Ro's gardens, pup. We're just bringing you on up to the house." Logan answered.
"Oh." For a minute, Spencer seemed to think about that, looking like he was still mostly asleep. "Any reason you didn't just wake me up and let me walk?"
Logan grinned down at him and held on to Spencer's upper half while abruptly letting go of his legs. Spencer squawked, clinging to Logan's shoulders while his legs dropped down. As soon as his feet were steady, he let go and glared at Logan, who was busy laughing at him. "You're awfully mean to this poor boy." Spencer said with a pout.
Reaching out, Scott tugged on a lock of the kid's hair, making him swat at his hand. "Do you hear this, Logan? The 'poor boy' been spending too much time with Remy. Pretty soon he'll be saying it with that blasted accent too." Scott teased.
Spencer's pout grew even more. To their surprise, he spoke suddenly with a Cajun accent as thick as Remy's. "Why y' picking on dis po' boy, cher? Aint done nothing wrong, me." Then his pout disappeared and he was laughing, a bright sound that made them smile. Abruptly Spencer's laugh cut off and he looked up at the sky. "The sun's going down?" He exclaimed. Reaching out, he grabbed Scott's wrist and looked at the watch there. His nose wrinkled and he let go, turning to jog toward the house. "Sorry, guys! I gotta go! I got some things to take care of in town."
"Be back before midnight, or I'm coming out after you." Logan called out in warning. Spencer was already a ways away, but he raised his hand in what Scott assumed was agreement. The two watched him go, Logan practically vibrating with the need to go after him. Scott reached out and put a hand on his lover's arm. "You can't stop him from doing things. He's an adult, Lo."
The feral man gave a low growl. "It doesn't mean I have to like it."
"No, you don't have to." Scott agreed. He left his hand on Logan's arm and looked over to the garage where Spencer was already pulling out in his Charger. None of us like it he thought to himself. But I don't know how we're going to change it.
It was five minutes to midnight when Spencer finally made his way to his room. He was pushing that time limit that Logan had set for him, but he'd managed to make it. Even as he cursed the man for setting a curfew for him, he still had come in on time. He didn't stop to question why he was obeying the order from someone who wasn't his owner, his John, or his boss. He wasn't forced to or paid to obey Logan. Yet he'd still made sure to be back to the mansion before the prescribed time. Spencer didn't bother going to Logan's room to let him know that he was back, though. That was just a step too far in his view. Besides, the feral man would have heard his car pulling in and most likely smelled him coming down the hall. The last thing that Spencer wanted was to be faced with him, anyways. Not while he was like this. Not while he knew he probably smelled like straight sex.
So caught up in the life here, Spencer had almost forgotten the client he'd set up weekly appointments with that night that he'd earned money for his car. Luckily Logan had gotten him up when he had. It had given Spencer time to get into town and meet the man at the arranged time. Once there, he'd done what he needed to do, making sure to get the man drunk enough beforehand that there was no way he'd be able to cause any real trouble. But for the first time, Spencer found himself unable to shut his thoughts off as he did his job. He hadn't been able to stop himself from thinking about what he was doing. That blessed escape had always been what saved him from hating this 'work'. Usually he just opened up his empathy a little bit and let himself feel the emotions of his partner and that was enough to get him in a mood and to help him lose himself. Not this time. This time, all he'd been able to think of the entire time was a certain red and black eyed Cajun. The way he felt curled around Spencer's body at night. How warm and surprisingly soft his hands were with those three fingers on each hand that had the callouses on the fingertips. That slightly spicy, slightly sweet smell that he had; a combination of his own scent and what Spencer thought might be some kind of cinnamon-vanilla shampoo or body wash.
Shaking those thoughts off, Spencer stripped down once inside his room and climbed into the shower to wash the smell of sweat and sex off his skin. His brain seemed to move on autopilot as he washed himself. God, he was so tired. Just…tired. The nightmares Sir had been sending each night were starting to wear on him in so many ways. The nap today in the gardens had helped; he would have to thank Ororo later for letting him sleep there. But it didn't make up for the lack of sleep at night.
Just one more week he told himself. One more week and you can end this. One more week and you can tell Sir that you're done. Either you'll prevent him from hurting them, or you'll tell him you need to stand aside until the next job. One or the other. You've got one week to decide. Yes. One whole week. Spencer scowled at the shower wall. If he didn't get some sleep soon, it wasn't going to matter how long he had, his brain wouldn't be able to stay awake enough to think of what to do. If Sir was hoping to torture him into some sort of compliant state, Spencer was very afraid he was close to achieving his goal.
Dragging, he finally made it through the shower, through brushing his teeth. Then he was in the bed. Before his head finished hitting the pillow, he was asleep.
And after just an hour, he was awake once more.
Jerking upright, Spencer's hands curled into the blankets, his eyes wide as he gasped in air. His whole body was trembling. Instinctively he reached for the body that he had grown to count on lately. When he realized that Remy wasn't there, his eyes drifted to the door. He would be in here any minute, then. He always was. No matter what, Spencer's nightmares always drew him into the room. He would come. Right?
No one came in.
Spencer shuddered out a breath, his eyes still locked on the door. He had two options here. He could stay there in bed and pray for sleep to find him, as he had done long before Remy had ever come into his life and would continue to do long after he was gone. Or, he could get himself up and walk over to Remy's room. The Cajun had told him that he would always hold him if he needed it. He'd even said that Spencer was free to come to him. The idea was so different. So…strange. But as Spencer sat in his bed, shaking from head to toe, the sobs threatening to burst free, he knew he couldn't just sit here. There was no way he would be able to stay here alone. He'd grown used to Remy's warm weight beside him in bed. The comfort of having someone there, protecting him even as he slept—he'd never had that until now.
Even with the bathroom light on, the darkness in the room was overpowering. His dream had been a memory; a remembrance of a time on his last assignment. A time that he hadn't been sure he would end up surviving. Thinking on it had Spencer fighting to choke back a sob. That was enough. He scurried out of bed, his trembling limbs barely managing to hold him up. He made them carry him to his rucksack where he pulled out a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and yanked them on, almost falling to the ground as he did so. Trembling from head to toe, Spencer wrapped one arm around his waist, his other hand going to open his door. Leaving his room was easy. Walking across the hall to Remy's door was even somewhat easy, despite the way his legs shook. Once he was there, lifting a hand to knock on the door proved to be the hardest thing in the world. He just couldn't seem to bring himself to do it.
Spencer forced down the tears that were trying to burn his eyes. Don't think on it. Don't think about it. Just knock on the door and he'll let you in and he'll hold on to you until the nightmares are gone. Until you don't think about that damn shack in those dark woods or the smell of burning fish or the sight of your own grave as you dig in the dirt, about to be buried alive. In the dark. Whimpering, Spencer rested his forehead on Remy's door, automatically reaching out with his empathy to try and connect with the other man, praying he would feel it and come to him so he wouldn't have to knock.
No one was in the room. Spencer shook as he felt and realized that no one was in Remy's room. There were absolutely no emotions. Now, Remy could shield tight enough that Spencer couldn't feel his emotions, but he didn't do it while he slept. He didn't typically do it at all except during their training sessions. Where was Remy? Oh, God. What was he going to do now? The one person who could make this go away and he wasn't here! Where was he?
Logic told him that Remy was most likely on a mission of some sorts. Anything else and he would have been here. But the terrified part of him wasn't logical. That part of him only knew that he needed to feel safe and the person that made him feel that way was not there.
Another set of emotions touched his empathy, though. Feeling the soft contentment and the happiness, Spencer remembered that Logan was here, too. His head turned in the direction of Logan's door. Remy had said that Logan would be there for him if he needed, hadn't he? He'd said that sometimes even he had gone to Logan's room when he had bad dreams and that Logan had let him sleep in there. Logan and Scott both. Of course they let him. He's one of them. You're not. They'll laugh at you and send you back to your room his mind taunted him.
Yet Spencer still stared down the hall. He could stand right here all night long, waiting for Remy to come back, terrified the whole entire time. He could go back to his room and sit in the bright light, terrified in there. Or he could go knock on Logan's door and maybe, just maybe, be offered the comfort he craved right now. Logan and Scott were so nice to him during the day. The two treated him almost like he was a kid to be looked out for. They cared about him and for him. Wouldn't it make sense that they would care for him now, too? And they…they made him feel safe. How could anyone feel anything but safe with the Wolverine there? No one would get past him to cause trouble. Scott was no pushover, either.
What's the worst they could do? Send him back to his room? If he didn't even bother knocking, that's where he'd end up anyways. He had nothing to lose by knocking. Right? Right.
His legs trembled as they carried him over that short space from Remy's door to Logan's. He couldn't believe he was going to do this. He couldn't believe he was here, ready to knock on Logan's door. Look at you! You look pathetic! It was true. His whole body was trembling from the fear and the cold that seemed to have settled down into his bones. His breath was shuddering in and out from the effort he was putting into holding back his sobs. Tears burned his eyes and he kept having to blink rapidly to keep them from falling. All he wanted was to be held. Just held for a little while.
Before he could change his mind, before his courage could fail him, he brought one hand up and knocked two short, semi quiet knocks against Logan's door. Almost instantly Scott's voice called out "Come on in."
Spencer just barely managed to make himself open the door. They knew he was here. There was no backing out now. If he didn't open it, one of them would come out and look and they'd find him here, shaking like a leaf and looking like an idiot. So he opened the door and took a couple steps in. Scott was stretched out on the bed, a book in his hands. There was the sound of a sink running in the bathroom; presumably it was Logan.
A smile was on Scott's face when he looked up. It started to slide away when he saw Spencer. He was just sitting up as the bathroom door opened. "Spencer?" Scott said with concern. "What is it? What's going on?"
Clinging even tighter to his waist, fingernails digging into the skin on his hips, Spencer tried to force his voice to sound normal. It didn't work anywhere near as well as he'd hoped. His words quivered slightly as he said "I, uh…Remy's not here." Biting his lip, he tried to keep his composure. "I, I went to his room and he, he wasn't in there."
Logan walked toward him slowly, almost cautiously, like one would move around a wild animal, as if any quick movement would cause it to bolt. Spencer wasn't sure the analogy wasn't correct. He had no idea what he'd do if one of them moved quickly toward him. Maybe he would run. The feral man stopped right next to him, one hand coming out to gently push the door shut. Then he lightly put his hand on the small of Spencer's back. "Come lay down a bit, pup." His voice was a gentle growl. "Come on."
Already Scott was moving, putting his book off to the side and pulling the blankets back. With Logan's urging, Spencer found himself climbing into the bed with them. He settled on his side, facing Scott. The bed dipped as Logan climbed in as well, his body spooning up behind Spencer's, so warm and solid and safe that Spencer almost sobbed. When Logan's arm went around him, he turned his face and buried it against the pillow to try and hide the few tears that leaked out. He felt the blankets settle over him and then Scott's hand was on his cheek, tipping his face back up. "Talk to us, Spencer."
"I had a, a nightmare." Out loud it sounded so stupid. He closed his eyes and tried to push down the shame he felt at this. But if this was the price of sleeping in here, of being safe, than he would pay it. Better this than being alone. "A few years back I got, I got kidnapped. Sometimes I still, ah, I still dream about it."
Logan's arm pulled him a little closer. "Aint no one gonna touch you here, kid. I promise you that. You're safe right here."
"Getting beat wasn't so bad. I was, you know, used to that. And I healed quickly. But he, he'd leave me there sometimes while he went and, and did things, and I'd just be alone in the dark. He burned fish liver and hearts to keep the devil away. But even that I could handle." His voice started to quiver once more and a chill ran down him. "It was the dark and the anger. He'd leave me alone there in the dark. And when he was there, he was so angry, so angry at me, and it was all I could feel. No one else was around and I was so tired I couldn't keep my shields up and I could feel his anger like fists in my brain. Then he'd leave me in the dark again. He, he m-made me…" Pausing, Spencer sucked in a breath, losing his battle with tears. "…he made m-me d-dig my own g-grave. He was gonna b-bury me a-alive for my s-s-sins. I tricked him and I s-s-shot him." The tears came now, hot and fast, pouring down his cheeks. Scott was there, moving to cradle Spencer's head while Logan's body curled even more around him, a protective shield against the world.
"Oh, honey." Scott murmured. He stroked Spencer's hair, the gesture seeming to pull the tears from him. "I'm so sorry you had to live with that. I am so sorry."
Giving up his shame, Spencer buried his face against Scott's warmth, his hands clinging to Logan's arm. Any adult rationality was lost in the face of a personal feel that ran so deep inside of him. "Don't leave me in the dark, please. Don't let me be alone in the dark. I'm sorry."
"No one's leaving you alone." Logan rumbled in his ear. "Not ever again. You're stuck with us, pup. We aint letting you go."
It took the two men a good ten minutes of murmuring and petting and holding before they finally soothed Spencer down into sleep. Another few minutes to watch him and guarantee that he was going to stay asleep. Scott grabbed his shirt from the floor and used it to gently wipe the tears from Spencer's cheeks. When he was done, he tossed it back down. Then he looked over Spencer at Logan's bright, furious eyes. That fury was something Scott understood. He felt the same coiled tight inside of him. "Remy said his nightmares were bad." Scott said with a look back down at Spencer's face. "But this? Shit, Lo."
"It's fucked up, Scott. That's what this is." Logan snarled out quietly. He lifted his head and propped it up on one arm so he wasn't right at Spencer's ear. It allowed him to look down at the sleeping man's face. "Did you hear him? How fucked up has his life been that he wasn't scared of the beating or this religious bastard?" They both heard the echo of Spencer's words. I was, you know, used to that.
Scott brushed back some of Spencer's hair. He couldn't squash this protective urge in him when it came to this kid. And to him, that's what Spencer was, just a kid. A young, scared, hurt kid. "I'm just glad he actually came to us. I wasn't sure he would."
A soft whimper from Spencer had them both going quiet. They waited until he'd settled again before they looked at one another. "Let's go to sleep before we wake him." Scott suggested. He lay down, bringing himself against Spencer, cocooning the boy between him and Logan. The feral man lay back down as well, keeping curled protectively around the kid that had, in the mind of the Wolverine, become part of his pack. That meant quite a bit, including taking care of him. Together, the two men fell asleep, protecting the one in the middle.