Spencer slept for even longer this time. Comfortable and safe in Remy's arms, and with a little help from Remy's charm, he stayed under for a few hours. Remy had been able to see just how badly he needed the sleep; that was why he'd helped him along. He stayed with him the whole time, too, not even moving to speak with Logan. The two kept their voices pitched low so as not to disturb Spencer. The whole time, Remy lay there and kept Spencer in the circle of his arms, refusing to let him go. There was no way he could. Not after the panic of these last few hours. His heart had been racing since Spencer had called and it hadn't stopped until he had the young genius in his arms.

Blissfully unaware of his friend's thoughts, Spencer slept through the rest of the morning and into the afternoon.

When he started to stir he didn't find himself waking up afraid. Even as he registered the feel of arms around him, he heard the low hum of Remy's voice singing to—the Eagles. Spencer's lips curved up. The Eagles were one of those bands that Remy liked that he didn't often admit to. But the Cajun was lowly singing 'Lyin' Eyes' at the moment and Spencer kept his eyes closed as he enjoyed it. He really didn't want to have to get up. As had become normal, he hadn't moved while he slept, so his body was still stretched out against Remy's. The only difference was that he'd managed to press in even closer. His nose was nuzzled right up against Remy's collarbone, actually dipping underneath the neck of his button up shirt. Here, everything was safe and easy and Spencer didn't want to leave to go back to the real world. However, he didn't really get a choice. Remy finished the verse he was singing and then startled Spencer by saying "I know y'r awake dere, cher. Aint no point in playing possum no more."

"Give me five minutes and I can be asleep again." Spencer promised in a low murmur.

"Not yet, Spencer." Remy said in a surprisingly serious voice. It was serious enough that Spencer actually pulled back enough to peek one eye up at him. He found Remy looking down at him with an expression that was as serious as his voice. One of Remy's hands slid up from where it'd been resting on Spencer's back and he used it to brush back some loose hair and part of Spencer's hood. Gentle fingers just barely grazed over the mark on his face. "I know y'r tired, mais dis needs tending, an anyt'ing else dat I can't see."

Even as he pressed his cheek into Remy's touch, not caring about the ache that flared up, he dropped his eyes down. "I don't want to." He admitted only slightly shamefully.

The hand on his cheek brushed back and slipped underneath his hood to thread through his hair and cup the back of his head. "Je sais." Remy murmured. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Spencer's forehead. "Will y' let me look anyways?"

"What about your friend?" He was grasping at straws, he knew. It wasn't like Remy would actually let someone sit in on something like this. He was picky about who was allowed around Spencer on a good day. While he was hurt like this? Spencer had no doubt that Remy was going to be even more protective. He wouldn't let anyone in around Spencer like this if he didn't have to, and he definitely wouldn't allow anyone in while he was checking Spencer over.

He was proved right just a second later when Remy said, "Logan aint here, cher. He went to go check out some t'ings round town. It's just y' and me here." Once more he kissed Spencer's forehead. "C'mon, firefly. Let me take a look at y' and y' can tell me what happened."

How on earth was it that Remy made it all sound so simple and so reasonable that Spencer couldn't argue with it? The last thing he wanted was to sit up and talk about things or to let Remy see just how bad the damage was. Hell, he hadn't even looked at the damage completely yet. But a few words from Remy in that steady, husky tone of his and Spencer found himself being sat up on the bed and pouring out the whole wretched story. He started off hesitant and slow while Remy slid his hood off, keeping his voice soft. But soon the words picked up pace until they tripped rapid-fire off his tongue. His best friend listened, growling when Spencer started to describe the situation in the kitchen, then grinning sharply when he heard about Spencer setting the knife on fire.

"Good fo' y'!" he said fiercely. There was pride on his face and it gave Spencer a little more courage. He continued his story, focusing on his words to help steady him.

When he got to the beating, he couldn't actually look at Remy's face, but he saw how the Cajun's hands fisted tight in the bedding. He didn't say a word as Spencer quickly hurried through the end of the story, finishing with getting onto the bus at the bus station.

Silence filled the room once Spencer wrapped up his story. Then those familiar hands cupped his face and pulled him in just enough that Remy could press yet another kiss to his forehead. The gesture was a normal one between them, one that Remy had first done the very first time he'd ever seen Spencer hurt, telling him it was something Tante Mattie did to make him feel better when he got hurt. It had become a sort of healing gesture since then and Remy often used it when Spencer was upset and hurting. Feeling it now had the young genius relaxing just the slightest bit more. The words Remy whispered against his forehead relaxed him the rest of the way. "Y' did de right t'ing, coming to me."

"Really?" Spencer blinked rapidly to clear his already watering eyes and he looked up at Remy through his bangs.

Remy smiled down at him and stroked his palm over Spencer's good cheek. "Oui."

"Dad's not going to be happy with me leaving, Remy. He's could cause a lot of trouble if he finds out I'm with you. I'm only sixteen…"

"Pfftt." Remy rolled his eyes and tapped his finger against Spencer's nose. "Hush. I aint scared of dat connard. Dere aint not'ing he can do to me, firefly, so don't y' worry none. I already got a plan."

"A plan?"

"Mm hm. Y' just don't worry none and y' let Remy take care of y', d'accord?"

It was what he'd wanted. Independent though he may be, this was exactly what Spencer had wanted. He'd known the minute he called Remy that his friend would swoop in and take over. It was just a part of his personality. He was a caretaker through and through. Especially when it came to those close to him. Spencer had known that Remy would take control of this situation and start making plans. And though he wanted to know about what they were, later, he was content now to put himself into hands that he trusted. The only hands in his life that he trusted right now. The faith and trust he had in his friend had him relaxing completely into the hold on his face and he looked up at Remy with trust burning in his fiery eyes. "Okay."

He knew what was coming next and he didn't protest when his face was released. Remy's hands were gentle as they helped to carefully strip Spencer of his jacket and sweater. When they were gone, Spencer could see as Remy's eyes ran over his shirt, knew that he'd found the bloodstains in a few spots when he saw his jaw tighten. The red in his eyes flashed briefly and then was tapered down. When Remy spoke, his voice was steady. "Y' fond of dis shirt, cher?"

Looking down at himself, Spencer debated before he looked back up and shook his head. "Not really. It's the only one I have right now, though."

"I'll get y' a new one." Reaching into his pocket, Remy pulled out a knife and flicked it open. It showed a hell of a lot of trust when Spencer sat perfectly still and allowed Remy to cut his shirt right off of him. However, he couldn't bring himself to look up at Remy's face anymore, not wanting to see his reaction to what was about to be revealed. Instead, he looked down at his lap, watching his arms as Remy very carefully pulled the shirt off. The damage done to his one arm had Spencer wincing. He also braced himself, knowing that his side and back had to look so much worse and knowing that it was going to infuriate Remy.

He was right. Remy was furious—no, beyond furious—when he saw Spencer's body. Only years of training on how to keep his emotions hidden kept him from reacting now. He knew the last thing that Spencer needed to see was any sort of anger. Despite how well he was doing, there was no doubt in Remy's mind that his young friend was still very fragile right now and he needed strength, not to deal with someone else's temper. But it was hard.

Even without Spencer's story, it would've been obvious what had happened to him. The damage left behind from a belt is pretty easy and clear to see. Remy had thought the mark on Spencer's face had been bad; it was nothing compared to the rest of him. The one on Spencer's face, going off the kid's story, had been at least slightly lessened by the fact that the belt had impacted his arm first so it had lost some of its strength by the time it got to his face. There was a welt there, a huge bruise, plus the splits in cheek and lip that could've come from the belt or from the slaps that had been placed there. But the rest of Spencer's body…all along Spencer's right arm, over his right side and over his back, he was a network of bruises and welts, a mass of dark colors broken here and there by red where the belt had struck with enough force to actually split the skin. This wasn't just a simple whipping, if the word simple could ever even be applied to being whipped. The person that had done this had done it with true anger behind their blows. They'd done it with the intent to hurt, to cause actual damage, and it only made Remy want to kill William Reid all the more. As he looked at one particularly bad mark, the long, bloody line of it that stretched over Spencer's lower back, he seriously contemplated talking to Belle when he got back home. She'd probably give him a discounted rate if he asked nicely enough. Hell, she'd probably go and do it herself. Remy was her best friend, though she'd never openly admit to it, and she'd heard enough about Spencer over the years she'd consider this personal. He might not even have to ask her. If she found out about this she might just take it upon herself to exact a bit of revenge.

Blissfully unaware of his friend's train of thought, Spencer carefully moved his right arm in front of him, looking at the bruises and testing his range of movement. Things always ached pretty badly the first day but he knew that tomorrow morning he was going to wake up even achier than now and horrendously stiff and sore.

"Some of dese need cleaned." Remy said from where he'd moved behind Spencer. His weight shifted on the bed and Spencer knew he was climbing off. "Y' stay dere. I'll get some washcloths an supplies. Logan got us some basic first aid shit earlier."

The reminder of the other person had Spencer drawing his arms self-consciously in towards his chest. "You're sure he won't be coming back any time soon?"

There was the sound of running water from in the bathroom. Remy raised his voice to be heard over it. "He promised to call me b'fore he comes back. C'mon now." The water cut off and Remy's voice got closer again. "Y' know me better'n dat, Spencer. Like hell I'm gonna let anyone in here while I do dis. I wouldn't embarrass y' like dat. Not even fo' Logan." Something was set down behind Spencer and then Remy's hand came down on Spencer's good shoulder as a gentle warning before the bed dipped down and Remy carefully settled in behind him. "All right, brace y'rself, cher. I'm gonna start cleaning t'ings up now."

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Spencer turned his head a little and glanced back. Remy sat with one leg tucked under him and the other hanging off the bed. It looked like a plastic store bag was sitting in front of him. Spencer held still as Remy started the painful process of cleaning up all the dried blood. Though his touch was gentle, Spencer still flinched here and there, and Remy murmured a soft apology.

Spencer closed his eyes and dropped his head a little as Remy hit a particularly sore spot. He needed some kind of distraction to get through this. Something to focus on. That always made it easier to get through pain. Normally, he'd find that inside of his own head, but he had Remy right here and it was never difficult to get Remy to start talking. There was an easy enough topic to get him on right now, too, that would also serve to distract Remy from the temper that Spencer knew was rolling around inside of him and slowly building steam with each wound he cleansed. "Your friend Logan, he seems nice."

"Oh oui, he's a great homme." Remy said immediately.

"How'd you two meet?"

That simple question was all it took to get the man going. Remy launched into a story about meeting Logan at some poker game in a dive in Chicago, giving Spencer all the details down to the very last card. The brunt of the story really wasn't that important. Spencer let most of the details slip on by and just let his friend's voice wash over him and anchor him down. He knew that Remy had to realize what he was doing. It helped, though. It held him together and Spencer made it through being cleaned up and bandaged without anything more than a few winces and a slightly chewed lip. He was a little pale when Remy finally took his supplies away, but he hadn't cried out and he hadn't shed a tear. He'd had enough crying today to last him for a while. The last thing he'd wanted was to shed another tear over all of this. Tears were a weakness he didn't often indulge himself in. Not when they'd gotten him into so much trouble in the past.

Remy's phone gave a buzz on the nightstand just as the Cajun came back out of the bathroom. He checked it while he dug through the bag on the floor that Spencer hadn't noticed before. When he straightened back up, he set the phone back on the nightstand and turned towards Spencer, a shirt in his hand. "Here, cher, y' can wear one of m' shirts. I brought a few, since I didn't know how long I'd be here fo'." Reaching out, he carefully helped Spencer scoot towards the edge of the bed a little more and then lifted the shirt. Neither one of them said anything about how Remy helped to carefully dress him in the button up. He threaded Spencer's bruised arm through the sleeve with a careful touch that barely ached at all. As he did, he told Spencer, "Dat was Logan messaging me. He's on his way back, should be here in de next ten minutes or so. Once he gets here, we'll get going."

"Going?" Spencer tipped his head up, letting his bangs fall off his face so that he could see his friend. He didn't miss the way that Remy winced as his eyes drifted over the now visible marks.

Though he winced, his hands didn't falter as they started to button up the shirt. "Oui. We can't exactly fly back home since we need to keep under de radar. We don't want y'r Papa finding us, hehn? So Wolvie's gonna drive us on back home. He said he might stay fo' a little while, too. Jus' to help keep an eye on t'ings until we get all settled." Finishing the last button, Remy straightened out the rest of the shirt, adjusting the collar. He smiled down at Spencer. "Y' made an impression on him. He said y' got some spunk in y'."

It only took a second for him to realize what Logan must've been referring to. Oh, right. He'd completely threatened Remy's friend earlier. Spencer flushed a little bit and dropped his eyes in embarrassment.

His reaction had Remy chuckling. "Yeah, he told me. Am I gonna have to start calling y' firecracker instead of firefly?"

"Oh, hush." Spencer snapped half-heartedly. He ignored Remy's delighted laugh and tried to quickly change the subject. "So we're driving down to New Orleans?"

The grin Remy wore said he knew what Spencer was doing, but he let him get away with it anyways. Letting go of Spencer, he slipped down to sit beside him, leaning back against the headboard. "Dat's right. Once we get y' in de city, dere aint a damn t'ing y'r Papa can do."

"What if he calls the police, Remy?"

"Let him." Remy's expression darkened a bit. "He'll have a hell of a fight on his hands. M' Papa knows a lot of important people, cher, y' know dat, even if we don't really talk about dat part of m' life. One of de first t'ings we're gonna do is go an talk to Papa. He'll help us get de ball rolling on some t'ings."

Get the ball rolling? Spencer bit nervously at the inside of his cheek again. What exactly was Remy planning here? "Remy…" he hesitated for only a second before trudging on. "I don't want him arrested. I don't want to go through all of that."

He was surprised when Remy just nodded at him. Reaching out, his best friend patted his knee and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I knew y' wouldn't. I aint ever convinced y' to do it b'fore. Didn't t'ink now would be any different."

"Then what did you mean by 'get the ball rolling'?"

"I've looked into some t'ings b'fore fo' y', just in case I could ever get y' to get de hell outta dere." Remy said that without an ounce of shame, meeting Spencer's gaze head on with an almost defiant spark there as if daring Spencer to scold him or make fun of him for it. "Y'r sixteen, y'r old enough to file a petition fo' emancipation. Y' fit some of de basic requirements, too. I called m' Papa on m' way out here an he agreed to talk to de family lawyer and get de paperwork started fo' it. We'll have to meet with de lawyer, of course, an y' may have to go b'fore a judge at some point, mais it seems de best way to get y'r freedom wit'out risking y' getting put in de foster system. It was either dis, or talking to Papa an having him convince de connard to sign over his parental rights to Papa. I t'ought y'd like dis option better."

For a moment Spencer just sat there, stunned. Emancipation was something that he'd thought about once or twice before. Of course he had. It was a way to earn freedom. To get out from underneath his Dad's rule. He'd entertained the idea a few times since Diana had been put into the hospital. But he'd never been able to bring himself to do it. Hadn't even known really where to begin. Yet here Remy was, offering it all up to him on a silver platter without him even really having to do anything. Remy was just going to give it all to him without him even having to ask! He'd come up with it and planned it out on his own just because he wanted to take care of Spencer. He wanted to get him free. No one, not even Diana, had ever tried to take care of Spencer that way. Diana had tried to the best of her ability; it wasn't her fault she was ill and unable to be the mother she would've been without her illness. Remy, though, took it on like it was nothing. Like it was natural. From the minute he'd first met Spencer he'd picked up the mantle of caretaker with him no matter how much Spencer tried to protest that it wasn't necessary.

Remy must've been able to see some of his thoughts on his face because he gave Spencer's knee another squeeze. His voice was pitched low and firm as he told him "I want to do dis, Spencer. I want to take care of y', an I don't want y' arguing it with me. If y' really don't want to do it, I won't push. Mais if y'r gonna argue cost, or responsibility, or some other self-sacrificing bullshit, den just keep it to y'rself, d'accord? I want to help y'."

"Just hiding out with you is risky enough." Spencer said slowly. "This…this will let him know exactly where I am."

"Den let him come. Between me an Wolvie, he aint gonna lay a hand on y' again."

"And what about you?"

Remy scoffed derisively. "I aint scared of dat fucking connard. Let him try somet'ing. I been wanting to kick his ass fo' a long time now."

The low rumbling sound of a vehicle pulling up outside their room cut into their conversation. Next came the sound of a door thudding shut. Remy and Spencer were both watching when the motel room door finally unlocked and opened and Logan came strolling back in. He saw the two of them sitting there watching him and snorted as he shut the door. "Yeah, that aint worrisome, coming in with the two of ya staring at me like that."

Any seriousness that had been on Remy's face before was gone now. In its place was the familiar mischievousness that spoke of both good humor and trouble all at once. "I don't know what y'r talking about, cher. We been being good in here, aint we, firefly?"

Unable to resist, Spencer found his lips curving in the fond smile that Remy always triggered in him. "Very good."

"Dat's right." Remy tipped his head up and smirked at his friend.

Logan looked between them and shook his head. "I'm gonna regret this trip, I just know it."

Laughing, Remy rose from the bed, extending a hand to help Spencer up as well. "C'mon, firefly." He smoothed one hand over Spencer's hair, tucking a bit of it behind his ear while sharing a smile with him. Slipping his arm carefully around Spencer, mindful of the marks, he scooped up his bag with his other arm and started to lead Spencer over towards the door. "We got a long drive ahead of us. Let's go see how long it takes b'fore Logan tries to stab me, yeah?"