Whatever it was that had gotten Spencer to the bus station helped hold him together through most of the ride. His mind kept trying to drift back over the night's events only to be resolutely shoved back once more. He knew if he let himself really think about it, he was going to come apart at the seams. Just unravel and fall to pieces right here on this bus and that was just something he couldn't allow to happen. Not yet. Right now he had to hold himself together. He had to keep himself in one piece until he got somewhere safe. Until he got to Remy. Once he got to his friend, he'd be safe. He knew he would be. That was something he held no doubts on. Remy would keep him safe. He'd help Spencer figure out what the hell to do next.

Without his cell phone, there hadn't been any way to call Remy while on the bus. But when the bus stopped in Flagstaff for a transfer, with a thirty minute wait between, Spencer took the opportunity to dart into the station and exchange a few bills for quarters. Then he hurried to the bank of payphones against the wall and found himself one that wasn't being used and was far away from any others that were being used. He didn't want anyone overhearing him. The last thing he needed was for someone to hear something and realize that he was a runaway and call security over here. They'd send him back home and Spencer couldn't have that. He just couldn't go back home.

Spencer made sure to pull his hood down a little more to try and keep his face hidden while he leaned in against the payphone. His body was protesting being upright. But it'd been protesting the bus ride for the past few hours, too. Only a bit of fitful sleep had allowed him to make the trip this far. His high pain tolerance only got him so far. Anyone who's ever been the victim of a belt wielded by someone bigger and stronger than them can attest to just how much damage that strip of leather can do. The deep bruises and welts were a symphony of pain that had him gasping or clenching his teeth each time the bus jostled. The bit of pain reliever he'd finally broken down and bought at the last layover in Kingman helped to at least take some of the edge off. But it wasn't quite enough to touch the ache in his ribs

With slightly shaky hands, Spencer dropped the coins into the slot and then dialed the number he'd had memorized for years. It was late, he knew, but he hoped Remy would still answer. Spencer's bus had left Vegas at almost eight thirty at night and it was now almost three in the morning. That would put it at four in the morning in New Orleans. Knowing Remy, he'd probably just crawled into bed. Or he'd be tucked in someone else's bed. But he'd always answered Spencer's rare calls in the past. Please, please don't let now be any different. Wrapping his sore arm around his aching ribs, he leaned in and pressed his forehead against the side of the payphone and listened to the ringing.

Three rings later, a gloriously familiar voice came on the line. "Whoever de hell dis is, y' better have a dan good reason fo' waking Remy up."

Just the sound of Remy's voice was almost enough to shatter Spencer's control. His hand gripped convulsively in his sweater and an aching breath huffed out of his chest. It almost stole his voice, leaving it a thin, thread whisper that practically throbbed down the line. "Remy."

"Oui, t'ink we established dat. Who's dis?"

The snark in Remy's voice was just as soothing as any reassuring words. It steadied him a little; gave him enough strength to get out more than just one word this time. "I-It's me." The words shook and Spencer clenched his hand on the phone. "Spencer."

There was a rustling sound and suddenly Remy's voice was back, sharper and much more alert than before, no signs of sleepiness in it anywhere. "Spencer? What's wrong? Are y' okay?"

Spencer drew in the concern in Remy's voice and let it warm him inside where he'd been feeling so cold. His tremors grew a little more and he had to fight to keep it together. It was just so tempting to come apart right now. Now that he had Remy's voice in his ear, strong and steady, he wanted to wrap himself in it and let go, even though he knew he couldn't. Not yet. Not yet. "I, I'm in a lot of trouble, Remy." His breath hitched and a sob caught in his throat. "God, Remy, I'm in so much trouble."

"Calm down, firefly." In an instant Remy's voice switched over to that thicker, soothing drawl that never failed to settle Spencer's nerves. "Jus' take a deep breath an calm down. Tell me what's going on. Where are y' right now? Are y' safe?" That was an important question. Remy was the only person in the world who knew just how serious and important a question like that was. This wasn't the first time that Spencer had called him up while scared. Usually, though it was while he was hiding out, waiting out his Dad's temper somewhere that he couldn't be found. He'd call Remy on the cell phone the man had given him on his last visit and they'd talk until Spencer had to go. But this wasn't like that and Spencer knew the answer he was about to give was going to make his best friend panic.

He drew in a breath like Remy advised and carefully blew it back out, mindful of his various aches as he did. "I'm in Flagstaff." He blurted out.

"Flagstaff?" Remy said incredulously.

Spencer didn't give him time to ask any more questions. The story came spilling out of him, words tripping past his lips in their hurry to get free, whispered fast and low to keep anyone around him from hearing them. "I didn't know what else to do, Remy! He was so pissed. I've never seen him that mad before! I couldn't just stay there. So I, I grabbed the money from the closet and I just, I ran, and I couldn't think of where to go except to you but the lady at the station, she said I could get as far as Albuquerque and I just, I didn't know what else to do! I can't go back, Remy. I'm in so much trouble. Oh, God, Remy, I'm so sorry. I didn't know who else to call…"

"Hey, hey, shh now. Shh." Remy cut in. "Shh. Take a few deep breaths b'fore y' send y'rself into a panic attack."

Swallowing to try and fight back the sob that wanted to break free, Spencer closed his eyes and held himself just a little tighter. "I'm scared, Remy." He whispered in a little boy voice. It was an admission he would never have dared make to anyone else.

There was a soft rustling sound in the background on Remy's end of the phone. "I know y' are, firefly. It's gonna be okay, t'ough. Y' said y'r bus is going to Albuquerque?"

"Yes. It's due in about ten a.m."

"All right. Dis is what we're gonna do. I'm getting up right now an getting dressed an den I'm gonna get in m' car an drive on out dere to get y'."

"Remy, that's like a sixteen, almost seventeen hour drive!"

"De fact dat y' know dat, just off de top of y'r head, disturbs me, cher." Remy teased him. "An y' know I'm gonna make it faster dan dat. But y'r right, y'll get dere b'fore I do, so I want y' to listen to me. I got a friend dat's close to de area right now, up near Santa Fe. He's a good homme an I trust him wit' m' life. I'm gonna have him pick y' up an get y' into a hotel fo' me. Y' stay wit' him an don't go nowhere till I get dere, y' hear? He'll keep y' safe until I can get to y'. Y' got me?"

"I got you." Spencer parroted back. Some of the weight sitting on his chest lifted away with Remy's steady take-charge attitude. It felt just a little easier to breathe now.

"Y' hang on, Spencer. I'll be dere as fast as I can. I'm grabbing m keys right now, y'hear me? I'm coming fo' y'."

After Spencer hung up the phone, he held himself tightly and started to make his way back towards the busses. It was about time to board on the new bus. Despite his aches, the rest of the trip didn't seem so bad all of a sudden. He had a plan now. Remy had a plan. Spencer could follow that, could follow the directions he'd been given. Step by step he'd do what he had to. He had an end destination firmly set in place now. All he had to do was get through all this and he would get to Remy. Then, then he could finally let go and let someone he trusted be in charge for a little while. All he had to do was make it sixteen more hours. He could do that. He'd survived sixteen years under William Reid. He could survive sixteen more hours until Remy could get to him.

He didn't stop to wonder until he'd already arrived at the station in Albuquerque just how he and Remy's friend were supposed to spot one another. Really, though, he should've known that Remy would have it all under control, and in true Remy fashion, too. When Spencer walked away from the bus and into the station it only took him about ten seconds to find the person waiting for him. The piece of cardboard box turned into a sign with the word 'Firefly' written on it was a pretty good giveaway.

The guy holding up the sign was short and stocky, with arms that Spencer privately thought were probably as big around as his waist. That wasn't exactly reassuring. There was the definite look of a brawler to the guy, an obvious aura of danger around him. He was dressed casually in well-worn jeans, a t-shirt and short sleeved flannel over it, with his dark hair sticking up sort of wild and thick sideburns. Sharp blue eyes were scanning the crowd and they easily picked up on Spencer as he started to make his way towards him. The guy must've noticed that Spencer was making a straight line for him and had made the appropriate assumption. He waited until Spencer got right up to him before he spoke in a voice that was low and rumbling, with just a hint of a growl at the edges. "Spencer?"

Spencer nodded, ducking his head a little more so that his hood and his hair covered his face just enough to shield the marks on his face and his eyes. Hiding his eyes was force of habit and he was proficient at using his hair to do it when he didn't have sunglasses.

The guy nodded at him and lowered down his sign. "Right. My name's Logan. Sorry about the sign. Gumbo said it's probably not smart to be showing off your name right now." He slanted a look at Spencer with those sharp eyes of his that stared at him like they saw way too much. "Let's get you outta here, kid. I got a room at the motel just down the block where we can hole up till the Cajun gets here."

Logan waited until Spencer was right beside him before he started moving. He kept close, but not too close, giving Spencer just enough space to feel comfortable. The way he walked at Spencer's side reminded him a little of Remy, though. Not in the proximity; Remy always walked practically on top of him, often with an arm around him. It was more in the way he walked. Logan moved with the same alertness that Spencer had only ever seen on Remy. Like he was watching everyone around him for potential enemies, anyone that might cause trouble, while also keeping an eye on the exits at all times. He steered Spencer carefully through the crowd, too, and Spencer noticed that he was making a point to step in the way of anyone that might get too close to Spencer. He was protecting him. Like—like a bodyguard or something. Wow. Remy must've really gone overboard on his protectiveness of Spencer when he called up this guy.

However, Spencer wasn't going to complain. If anything, he was grateful. The last thing he wanted was contact with some random stranger. He didn't like crowds on a good day and today was definitely not a good day. He felt jumpy, his own senses on high alert for any trouble around him, and he honestly didn't know how he'd react if someone touched him. His control over his powers was still there but there was no telling how much it might waver if someone had the misfortune of startling him.

When they got outside, the crowds were thicker and Spencer instinctively stepped closer to his 'protector'. Logan must've noticed because he took a step forward and just a bit closer to Spencer as well, putting them within inches of each other. He angled them so that he was just slightly in front of Spencer, enough to act as a barrier, and he had Spencer between him and the wall. Spencer was embarrassed by how grateful he was. Not embarrassed enough to move, though. He kept his arms wrapped tight around himself and focused on following Logan's footsteps. Each step was reminding him that he needed to take some more pain reliever, even take the time to strip down and assess and treat any injuries. That was going to have to wait, though.

By the time they arrived at their destination, Spencer was breathing heavier and his whole body was throbbing.

Logan led him right up to a motel that really was just a block away from the station. He must've already been checked in because he didn't go to the office. Instead, he led Spencer down to the room at the end of the row and pulled a key from his pocket. "Here we are." He said, swinging the door open wide. He stepped back, gesturing inside with one hand. "Get in here and sit down, kid. I don't know how badly you're hurtin', but you're making me hurt just looking at ya. Go get off your feet."

Remy trusts him, Spencer reminded himself as he walked into the room. Remy trusts this man. He wouldn't have sent him if he didn't. The reminder helped him push down some of his fear. Enough that he was able to go inside the motel room with this strange man that he didn't even know. The room was basic, two double beds plus a small couch and TV. It was the couch that Spencer went to. Just because he was trusting the guy this far didn't mean he was going to be stupid enough to go to one of the beds. The wry look that Logan gave him while he shut the door said that he'd guessed Spencer's train of thought. He watched, seemingly knowing better than to offer help, as Spencer gingerly slid his aching body down onto the edge of the couch. His back was screaming at him. Hours and hours of sitting on the bus had been a form of hell. He'd had to turn himself carefully to his good side so as to avoid the mass of welts he knew would cover his back. Sadly, it was far too familiar to him to move around the pain. At least the years of experience had ended up being good for something. They'd helped him make it here. With less of a pain tolerance, he knew he would've broken down sobbing only hours into the trip.

Once Spencer was seated, Logan took a few more steps into the room, but he kept his distance, opting to lean against a wall instead of come close to him. "Okay, kid, now that we're away from prying eyes and ears, Rem wanted me to let ya know the plan's changed a bit."

It was like a fist to the gut. Instant panic hit Spencer and his whole body locked down. Oh, God, had he been wrong? Had he been an idiot to trust this man? He had Spencer alone in a motel room. He could do anything he wanted! Air started to hitch in Spencer's lungs and his fists curled into his sweater.

Logan's eyes widened with surprise and then he was holding his hands up in the universal gesture of peace, showing he was unarmed. "Woah, woah, kid. That aint what I meant. You're safe, okay? I aint gonna hurt ya."

The same courage that had prompted this insane run in the first place prompted him to speak up now, though his voice shook ever so slightly. "You try anything and I swear to you, I'll burn the room down if I have to."

"Shit, I should've phrased that better." Blowing out a breath, Logan ran one of his hands through his hair before dropping both hands back down to hook in his pockets. "Gumbo caught a plane out here instead of driving. He said the car would've taken too long an a flight cut the time in half. He should be getting in within the hour. That's what I meant, kid. Nothing else."

Relief wanted to swamp Spencer. By sheer will he managed to push it back. That little burst of fear had made him warier, less willing to trust. "I want to talk to him."

"He figured ya might." Reaching down into his pocket, Logan pulled out a cell phone, exaggerating the movement slightly to make sure that Spencer could see at all times what he was doing. "So long as they aint landing, you should be able to reach him." He tossed the phone so that it landed on the cushion next to Spencer.

The young genius caught it up before it could make its second bounce. He dialed the familiar number from memory and pressed the phone up to his ear, all the while keeping a steady eye on Logan. It took a single ring before Remy's voice flooded the line. "Bonjour, mon ami. Y' get m' firefly all right?"

There was warm concern and an easy friendliness in Remy's voice that did more to set Spencer at ease than anything else. It warmed him to hear that affection from Remy, to know that that was how he spoke about Spencer to his friends, and it eased him to hear how friendly Remy sounded because that meant that he not only trusted this guy, he cared for him too, and that meant a lot in Spencer's books. The tension in his shoulders faded a little and he felt like he could take a steady breath again. "Hey, Remy."

"Spencer! Merci Dieu, he's got y', den. Is everyt'ing okay? De two of y' are all right?"

"We're fine." Spencer snuck a look up at Logan, who hadn't moved from his spot against the wall except to pull a cigar from his shirt pocket and stick it, unlit, into his mouth. "We're at a hotel room. He…he said you'd be here soon?" If there was a bit of hopeful pleading in that, no one commented on it.

"Oui, cher. We're actually running on time, too, so it aint gonna be no more dan an hour b'fore y' see me. I told y' I'd get dere as quick as I could, didn't I? I always keep m' word."

"Yes, you do."

"I hope Logan didn't scare y' none. He's a sweetheart. Don't let dat gruff mountain-man look fool y'. He's a big ol' teddy bear on de inside." There was a small pause, then, "Just don't tell him I said so, d'accord?"

Spencer chuckled softly at that and snuck another look up at Logan, who was watching him with a small smile that suggested he knew he was being talked about.

The phone was passed off after that, once Remy had once again reassured Spencer that he was going to be there soon, and from what Spencer heard it sounded like Logan and Remy were simply discussing things like arrival times and how they were getting from the airport to here. Spencer wasn't really listening by then. After running for so long on the adrenaline, the fear and pain and panic, Spencer's body was slowly starting to drop. The couch he was on was comfortable and he was with someone that Remy insisted was safe. Apparently that sense of safety was all Spencer needed for his exhaustion to start to catch up to him. His blinks grew longer and longer and it became more difficult to open his eyes back up each time.

He never really noticed as his body listed just slightly to the side, propping up against the high arm rest. By the time Logan got off the phone, the young genius was curled up into the corner of the couch snoring softly. The feral looked at him for a long moment. Then, smiling, he shook his head. On silent feet he padded over to the bed and grabbed the comforter. There were plenty of people who would've been surprised to see as the big, bad Wolverine carefully laid the blanket over this scrawny youth, making sure to gently tuck him in. Once he was satisfied, he moved over to the front door, opening it enough that he could lean in the doorframe. There, silent and steady, he smoked his cigar stood guard over the occupant of the room, waiting for the arrival of one of the few people in his life he'd honestly call friend.

Spencer woke to a burning ache through his body, the gentle feel of a hand brushing across his face and the low sound of a familiar voice cursing vehemently. It was a strange combination of anger and tenderness that he'd only ever encountered with one person before. That familiarity registered in his subconscious before he'd even fully woke. In those random nights that Spencer had fallen asleep in his backyard hideaway while waiting for Remy to slip out, he'd come to recognize the feeling of his friend waking him. Because of that, he didn't tense, didn't try to pull away from the touch now. He pressed in, mindless of the ache that spread through his face.

Blinking open heavy eyes, he found just what he knew he would. Remy was kneeling down in front of him looking at him with eyes that had gone hot and sharp with both concern and anger. The only thing that threw him was that he was no longer on the couch. Somehow he'd managed to make his way to the bed. Judging by the way all of his aches were coming to life and the way that Remy was stroking at his face, soothing him down, it wasn't hard to guess that the Cajun had carried him over here. The pressure on his injuries was probably what had started to wake him to begin with. It would explain why Remy was cursing and trying to soothe him back down.

To Spencer's absolute mortification, he found his eyes filling with tears.

Almost immediately the temper in Remy's gaze burned away. "Ah, cher." With the hand that still cupped Spencer's cheek, he used his thumb to wipe away the single tear that slipped free. "It's all right now, Spencer. I'm here. I've got y'."

Spencer tried to force back the tears but he'd been fighting them for so long now. And with Remy, he'd never had to be ashamed of shedding them. Remy had never mocked or ridiculed him for them. He didn't now, either. Nor did he try to stop them. Instead, Spencer watched as Remy pulled his arms back long enough to shed his coat and, judging by the sounds of it, remove his shoes. A second later he was lifting up the comforter and sliding underneath it to stretch out right by Spencer. With careful hands, he gathered Spencer to him, bringing him in close, and Spencer went without hesitation. He didn't even care when Remy's hand pressed over some of the welts and bruises. Tears slowly building, all he cared about was the safety of the arms that pulled him in and the security of the solid chest that was in front of him. Spencer buried his nose against Remy's collarbone and relished in the safety and security of the man who was holding him like he was something so precious. Safe here as he'd never been anywhere else, there was no hope for Spencer to hold back. His tears poured out of him and a gasping sob broke free.

"Dat's it." Remy murmured, pressing a kiss against his hair. "Jus' let it out, Spencer. I'm here and I've got y'. I aint going nowhere. Y' just go on and let it all out, firefly."

Let it out he did. Spencer couldn't have stopped it if he'd tried. He let out all the pain and fear that had been riding with him since he'd run out of the house. No, since he'd stood in that kitchen holding the flaming knife. He let it all out into Remy's chest until there were no more tears left to cry. The whole time, Remy just held him close, keeping him sheltered. And when it was done, when the last of the tears had run their course and Spencer was sagging against him with exhaustion from the purge, Remy still didn't let go. He kept Spencer close and hummed a wordless lullaby. It was the last thing Spencer heard before his body once more dropped down into sleep.