Pain was the world that Spencer woke to. A hard, steady pounding in his head that thrummed in tune with various bruising aches throughout his body. It was such a familiar sensation that he thought nothing of it at first. Simply lay there and ran through the familiar assessment of injuries. Head—concussion, most likely. There was an intense throbbing on the back of his head and on his jaw. The sensation was familiar enough to hazard a guess at what happened. A blow to the face that had sent him crashing down to strike his head on the ground. He'd felt that combination many times before. For once, though, the rest of what was there wasn't near as bad. Usually he could count on a beating continuing on even once he was unconscious. So why didn't he feel the usual deep aches or burning bruises?
He tried to shift, attempting to pull his hands around to push against the floor, only to feel something tight holding his wrists in place. His whole body froze. What the…he was tied. His wrists were tied behind his back with what felt like a thick rope. That—that wasn't normal. William didn't tie him, not like this. The only time he tied Spencer was in a much different position. What the hell was going on?
Panic hit like a freight train. In the ensuing adrenaline rush, the fog over his head cleared and the night came back to him.
It all came crashing back in. He wasn't at home anymore. He'd run away, run to Remy. Spencer's heart stuttered in his chest. That was right. He was with Remy now. They'd been at Remy's place, having a private, celebratory dinner in honor of the judge's decision today. Celebrating Spencer emancipation. At Remy and Spencer's insistence, Logan had gone out to take care of some of his own things, promising them a few hours alone. The two friends had ordered in Chinese from the place down the road that Remy loved and that Spencer was really coming to enjoy and then they'd settled in for a night for just the two of them. Good Chinese food, a good movie, and even better company. For the first time in what felt like a very long time, Spencer had been happy. Really happy. Everything had seemed sort of perfect tucked underneath Remy's arm on the couch. The long, warmth of him pressed against Spencer's side, the comforting feel of him holding on, and that little tug in his heart that he'd always felt around Remy, the one that told him he was safe and loved. He'd even hoped, deep inside in the secret places he never told anyone about, that their perfect little night might end in a kiss. It'd been a fantasy he'd entertained for years now and one that he dearly hoped to one day make come true.
But things had gone wrong. Spencer had started feeling strange after dinner. When he'd turned to Remy, he'd found the man slumped back on the couch, eyes rolling back in his head. Spencer remembered the feeling of panic. He remembered trying to climb off the couch, stumbling and tripping as his body wouldn't cooperate with him, and he'd known then that he'd been drugged. He knew that sensation. The last thing he remembered was stumbling around the corner and something solid struck him in the face. Then everything went black.
Oh, God. Spencer knew before he opened his eyes just what he would find. Gathering his courage, he blinked his eyes open, wincing against the light. What he found was ten times worse than what he'd expected. He was still at Remy's place—in Remy's bedroom, actually—and he wasn't alone. William was standing nearby. And tied, spread eagle on the bed, was Remy. Horror gripped Spencer and he couldn't stop the strangled sound from leaving his throat. No, no. No! He couldn't have Remy. No, please no. Not Remy! The sound he'd made alerted his father to the fact that he was awake. Spencer shivered as cold eyes turned and found him.
"Glad to see you're awake, boy." William said. A nasty smile was curving his lips, one that had Spencer's insides freezing. That was a smile he knew meant trouble. Very, very serious trouble. When William lifted his hand and Spencer saw the knife there, he had to struggle not to whimper. The man just grinned even more. "You're just in time for the fun to start."
It wasn't towards Spencer that he moved, though—it was towards Remy. Spencer's horror grew. "Dad…"
"This is your fault, you know." William interrupted him. He moved to stand beside the big bed, twirling his knife around in his hand. Spencer's eyes tracked its movement with a sickening feeling. "Did you really think you could get away from me? That I'd just let you leave? I knew you were stupid, really, but I didn't know you were that stupid. If you'd just done what you were told, if you'd been a good boy, none of this would be happening. Your little friend here would be safe. You fucked up a lot by running out like that, Spencer. Fucked up a good deal. Now, he's going to suffer, and it's going to be all your fault. Are you proud of yourself, Spencer? His blood is on your hands."
"Don't hurt him." Spencer croaked out. His throat was sore and his stomach was rebelling. Whether in reaction to the drugs or over what was going on, he didn't know. "Please, Dad, don't hurt him. He didn't do anything to you." Oh please, God, someone help them. Where was Logan? Why wasn't he here? He was supposed to come back tonight! Where was he? Had William hurt him, too? He didn't dare ask the question out loud. If his father didn't know about Logan than Spencer definitely didn't want to alert the man to his existence.
William's lip curled up in disgust as he looked down at his son. "Don't hurt him, don't hurt him." He repeated in a mocking, sing-song voice. "Jesus, kid, can you hear yourself? You're pathetic. What's the life of another whore, huh? What makes you think I give a damn about him or about any pleas you have to make? He deserves this. He deserves it just as much as you do. And you're going to lay there and watch as I give it to him, or so help me, I'll stab this blade right through his heart."
That froze Spencer in place. Chills ran down his spine. It was the first time that William had spoken of death so openly and that Spencer knew without a doubt the man was telling the truth. He would kill Remy and there was nothing that Spencer could do to stop him. No way he could get across the room in enough time even if he tried. William could stab Remy before Spencer had even risen from the floor. What Spencer needed was some way to stop him. His stomach churned at the idea. Him stop his father? Was he insane? I can't let him hurt Remy. I can't!
He knew Remy had hidden weapons all over the place so that there wasn't a single room in the house that didn't have at least two weapons in it. One of those places was right behind Spencer, underneath the dresser. He'd thought it strange when Remy had first told him about it. Now, he was thanking a God he didn't even believe in for it. If he could just get to it, he could hold William off until he could call for help or Logan came back. Slowly, carefully, Spencer slid himself back just the slightest bit. Almost instantly William was looking over at him. "Stay there." The man snarled.
Dammit. How was he supposed to move back the foot or so that he needed if every movement was going to send William looking his way?
Spencer's eyes lifted and he caught sight of a faint hint of red flashing at him from the bed that made his heart stutter and stop for one split second. Remy was awake. Oh, thank everything. Remy was alive and awake. Judging by the sharpness Spencer saw in that barely-there gaze, the Cajun had been awake for a little bit now and he was already thinking, already planning. His eyes ran over Spencer, to the dresser, and then back to Spencer again. Then he gave a tiny little nod. It was another of those moments that Spencer blessed the man's seeming ability to read his mind.
A low, aching sort of groan drew William's eyes eagerly to the bed. Remy was blinking his eyes rapidly, looking for all intents and purposes as if he was just waking up. "What…" He slurred out. "What de hell is going on here?"
Spencer took advantage of the distraction and scooted back a little more. That was the point of this, he knew. Remy was distracting William so that Spencer could get to a weapon. So he could get them free.
Still, he froze, his heart in his throat, when William lifted the blade and tapped the flat part against Remy's cheek. "Rise and shine, princess."
The Cajun jerked back from the blade. His eyes shot open wide at the feel of his limbs being tied and not even Spencer could tell whether the panic was real or faked. "What de hell?" Remy said. He tugged on his bonds testingly, then turned his head, devil eyes going right to William's face. The hatred that darkened his expression was chilling. "Fils de putain."
"About time you woke up. I was beginning to wonder if we'd have to start without you." William said with a smirk.
Remy didn't cow before him. He showed none of the fear or deference that was natural for Spencer. Instead, he lifted his chin and met William glare for glare. "I shoulda sent Belle after y' when I had de chance." He said calmly.
A backhanded blow had Remy's head snapping to the side and Spencer letting out a low cry. "Dad!"
William leaned in close and pointed the tip of the blade right against Remy's throat. "You watch your mouth, you little shit."
"Fuck. You." Remy said lowly, enunciating each word deliberately. "Play wit' dat knife all y' want. Y'r in my house now, y' connard, an Remy's looking forward to kicking y'r ass."
It took everything Spencer had to focus on continuing to move backwards. He wanted nothing more than to dart forward, to stop this. To scream at the man to leave Remy alone. Only, Remy was doing this to distract him, to give Spencer the chance to move. He couldn't waste that.
There was another loud crack as William slapped him again. Cold eyes sought him out and Spencer froze with that same fear he always felt at the coldness of that stare. "Your friend's got quite a mouth on him." He said. Turning back, he laid the knife point against Remy's arm. "I don't know which of you is stupider. I'm the one with the knife here, you little Cajun whore." The knife traced a light trail down Remy's arm and Spencer's whole body shook. He couldn't stop the words that spilled past his lips. "Get your hands off him!"
William lifted his head and looked to Spencer with surprise. "You're giving me orders? You're giving me orders? That's not how this works here, kid. When are you gonna realize that? I'm the one in charge here. I'm the one with the knife."
"Then hurt me." Spencer said. He ignored Remy's panicked "No!" and kept his gaze on his father. He couldn't let him hurt Remy. He just couldn't. Forget getting a weapon. Forgetting Remy distracting him. Spencer knew with absolute certainty that he couldn't just lie here and watch the man hurt Remy. He just couldn't. Remy had done nothing to deserve it. In Spencer's whole life, Remy was the one good thing he had, the one thing he'd always been able to count on. In so many ways the man had saved him. He refused to lie here and pay him back for all that by letting him get cut up as a distraction. Better that he do it. Remy could get free of the bindings holding him easily enough if he wasn't being watched. Spencer would much rather be the distraction than have to watch Remy be hurt. "You want to hurt someone, hurt me. Just leave him alone."
That terrifying smile was back on William's face. He lifted the knife and pointed it Spencer's direction. "You'll get yours, don't you worry." Then he brought the knife back to Remy's skin and once more traced over his arm. Only, this time, he pressed just hard enough to leave a trail of red behind.
Remy didn't even flinch. His lip curled up and he snarled up at the man. "Is dat all y've got, homme? Pathetic. Fuckin pathetic. Y'r a real tough man, aint y'? Drugging and tying us up. Y'r too much of a fuckin' coward to face us head on!"
What the hell was Remy doing? He was going to just piss William off even more! Pissing him off normally was a bad idea. When he was this enraged, with a knife in hand? It was suicide! Spencer knew that Remy was probably trying to distract the man and keep his attention away from Spencer, or maybe trying to find a way to stall until Logan came back, but he had no idea what he was messing with. He didn't know William enough to know his tells. To read his features and body language and see just how serious he was. And right now he was very, very serious. The rage that was twisting his features wasn't entirely sane. If Remy kept this up, there was a very real possibility that William was going to kill him. Spencer couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let his friend die just because he'd been trying to save him.
There was no more time for trying to be subtle. Forget trying to get to the weapon under the dresser. Spencer reached down inside himself, pushing past the pain of the concussion, ignoring the headache that started to pulse and throb, and he called for the one natural weapon he possessed. The drugs and the blows to the head had made it feel impossible to reach before. But now, Spencer felt the little flames dancing to life against his fingers, and he pushed even harder. Pushed them to move, to travel up, over the rope on his wrists. The fire was his—his to make and his to control. It burned through the rope and tickled across his skin.
The pain in Spencer's head grew. He wasn't up for this. But he didn't have a choice. Courage that he didn't know he had pushed him to move as he felt the ropes fall away. It pushed him to lift his weight up and onto his knees, and then to put one foot flat on the ground and push up. His head ached and spun and a part of his mind screamed at him to get back down on the ground. To stay down there before William noticed. But he ignored it and continued up until he was standing unsteadily on his feet.
William and Remy both turned to look at him, but Spencer had eyes only for his father. He held his hands out on either side of him and called to the flames that were already there. They danced over and around his hands, white hot with the anger that was in him. "Get away from him."
For the first time that Spencer could remember, there was a spark of something that might've been fear in his father's eyes. "What do you think you're doing, Spencer?"
"I won't let you hurt him." The flames slid a little higher now, over his wrists, moving up to his forearms. He took a small step forward. "I let you hurt me for such a long time and I never fought back. I took it, over and over again. I even stepped in between you and Mom and took it for her, so she wouldn't have to, and I never once complained. I never tried to stop you. So maybe, some of it was my fault. Because I could've tried. I could've told someone. I let you hurt Mom and I. I let you make our lives miserable." Another step forward. The flames were up to his elbows now, dancing around his skin just as they danced inside his eyes. "But I'll be damned if I let you hurt him. He is the one good thing I have in my life and you aren't going to ruin it."
"You deserved it!" William shouted at him.
The fire on Spencer wavered and a pain that had been in his heart for most of his life pushed to the forefront. "I was just a boy!" he shouted right back. "I was three the first time you took a belt to me. What the hell could a three year old do that deserved being belted till he couldn't move?"
"I knew what you were and I tried to stamp it out of you. I knew you were a freak from the moment you were born and look at you now. I was right."
The pain in his head was growing. Spencer swayed slightly on his feet the flames around his arms grew a little more. His concussion must've been worse than he'd thought. The more he was using his powers, the greater the pain grew.
The knife shifted against Remy's skin, pressing in close, and a bit more blood welled up. "Don't you come any closer, Spencer." There was definite panic, now.
"I don't have to come closer." Spencer said. He pushed himself harder, mindless of the blood that started to drip from his nose. Small flames appeared on the ropes holding Remy's hands to the bed.
William didn't notice them. His eyes, wild and crazy, were still on Spencer. "What're you going to do boy, kill me?" He let out a laugh that wasn't entirely sane. "You kill me, you kill us all. We'll all burn alive in here."
"I won't let you hurt him."
He'd thought he was prepared for just about any reaction. What he hadn't been at all prepared for was the wild roar of rage that William let out right before the man leapt straight towards him. He hadn't thought William would actually leap towards the fire. Their bodies collided and the whole world turned into pain and fire as the pain in Spencer's head became too much and he felt it literally burst out of his skin. Remy's scream echoed after him as he and William hit the ground and the whole world went dark.
Fire was what he passed out to and it was what he awoke to. It was everywhere, all around him, flames crackling on the ground and the walls and the air was rife with smoke. There was something heavy on top of it that was making it hard to breathe. Spencer barely started to summon the energy to move when suddenly it was ripped off of him and then he was sucking in great, gasping breaths into his oxygen deprived lungs, only to start coughing as he sucked in the smoke.
Hands grabbed hold of him and the panic almost started, his body weakly making an attempt to fight. Then a voice came in, close to his head, so familiar and so sweet. "…just me, Spencer, cher, it's just Remy. I got y'. C'mon, bébé, we gotta move, de whole fuckin' place is on fire. I got y'. I'm gonna get y' outta here."
It was Remy. Remy, holding him. Remy, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him up to his feet. Spencer leaned in to Remy's embrace and clutched weakly at his shirt. He couldn't see, could barely breathe, his head and his body aching and his lungs so full of smoke. All he could do was clutch weakly at the man as Remy gathered him up and then, to Spencer's shock, lifted him up bridal style and started to carry him. Spencer wanted to protest, to insist that Remy put him down, but the fire was growing and the smoke was getting thicker. They couldn't waste any air. He buried his face in against Remy's neck as another hacking cough ripped its way free. The very fire he usually controlled was his enemy now and he just didn't have the strength to try and fight it. The world was fire and pain and smoke. It was thick and suffocating and Spencer thought to himself just how ironic it would be for a fire based mutant to die from a fire. A fire he had started.
All of a sudden the air around them began to change. It was clearer, colder. Yet somehow that seemed even worse for his lungs than before. Spencer drew in a deep breath of it and immediately started to cough. Great big hacking coughs that felt like his lungs were being ripped to shreds by tiny little razors. Each one made his head pound and he swore his heart was beating in his ears. He never heard Remy shouting for help. Never heard the call for medics. But he felt as Remy started to set him down and another pair of hands touched him.
Instantly he went into a panic, his whole body bucking to try and get away from the foreign hands and back to familiar ones.
Remy's arms wrapped around him and Spencer was once more pressed against a familiar chest. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that Remy was sitting down on something and drawing him into his lap. Something plastic was pressed up against his face and he could feel the vibrations of Remy's chest that said that he was talking, only between the coughing and his own heartbeat Spencer couldn't hear the words. But he trusted Remy. Remy would take care of him. Holding on to that faith, he let himself slump and focused only on breathing. The plastic thing against his mouth shifted and Spencer realized what it was. An oxygen mask. Weakly, he tried to lift his own hand to help hold it, only to have Remy swat his hand away. The Cajun held it there for him as Spencer drew in the blessed oxygen and slowly, slowly, caught his breath once more.
As the coughing fit faded and the pounding in his ears lessened, though the headache was still there in full force, Spencer started to become aware of other sounds around them. The sound of sirens, first. Then voices. People shouting, someone screaming, others just talking loudly. Remy's voice, right by his head, close to his ear. That was the one he latched on to. That was the one he anchored himself on. "I got y'." Remy was murmuring to him. "It's okay, firefly, I got y'. Y'r gonna be all right. We're safe now. We got outta dere. Just breathe fo' me, d'accord? Dat's it, just breathe fo' me. Y'r safe now. Y'r safe and I'm safe and William aint here to hurt y' no more."
The steady reassurances took away the last of Spencer's tension. There in Remy's arms, with the knowledge that he and the one he cared about were safe, the threat against them gone, he gave up that last little bit of his control. This time, when he sank down into the darkness, it was with a soft sigh of relief.
The next time that Spencer woke, things were once more different. He was becoming pretty adept at this waking up in new situations thing. At least this time there was no sense of disorientation. He knew what had happened; well, most of what had happened. He remembered his father, remembered the fire, remembered Remy's arms around him and the oxygen mask on his face when he finally passed out again. Part of that, at least, wasn't any different. Remy's arms were still around him. Only, he was no longer on Remy's lap, and the air didn't smell like a fire anymore but like a hospital. He didn't have on a full oxygen mask, either, thankfully. He was lying on his side on a bed and Remy was right in front of him, cradling Spencer close. When Spencer opened his eyes, it was to a view of the chest of Remy's shirt, his head neatly tucked in under Remy's chin.
There was a dull ache on the side that was up, a muted burning on his bicep and towards the back of his shoulder. Most likely the reason that he was lying like this. As he started to wake, he shifted the arm a little, wincing at the pull on aching skin.
"Hold still." Remy murmured softly. "A piece of burning wood got y'r arm when we was running out. Just some minor burns, some bruising. Dey figured it'd be tender to lay on."
Holding still was something he could do. He didn't want to move. Not if it meant leaving this safe place inside of Remy's arms. Blinking a few times to clear his eyes, he stared at the fabric of Remy's shirt, trying to piece together what had happened at the end there. A lot of it was a bit blurry. Thankfully, Remy's ability to understand what he didn't say just as much as what he did was still there. The Cajun started explaining before Spencer even had a chance to ask and he did it in short, quick terms, laying it all out in simple terms. "When William jumped at y', y' lost control of y'r fire. It sort of went, well, everywhere. Y'd already started on burning m' ropes, so m' hands were free. By de time I got up to untie my feet, de whole room was on fire and y' and William was just lying dere. I got him off of y' and carried y' de hell outta dere before we got trapped. Logan showed up about de time we was just getting outside."
Immediate worry hit. Spencer pulled back a little, just enough to look up at Remy, his eyes already scanning for injuries. Remy understood the look and hurried to reassure him. "I'm fine. A few bruises, a few scratches, not'ing serious. Not even a burn on me."
"Your house?"
Giving him a half smile, Remy reached out and tucked a bit of hair behind Spencer's ear. "Needed a new place anyways."
No. Dammit. "Remy, all your stuff…I'm so sorry."
Remy shook his head and, to Spencer's surprise, rolled his eyes. "Shut up." He said, a note of fondness in those words. "Y' t'ink I give a damn about things? Y'r alive and dat's all dat matters to me. De rest can be replaced."
Something hit Spencer then and his whole body locked down. "My father?"
The look on Remy's face was answer enough. Spencer's eyes slid shut. He bowed his head, letting his forehead tuck in against Remy's chest once more. Grief filled his heart. One of Remy's hands came up to cup the back of his head and stroke at his hair. "De firefighters tried to get him out, mais it was too late. Je suis désolé, mon cœur."
"I didn't mean for it to happen." Spencer whispered against Remy's shirt. He didn't know how he felt about this. On one hand, there was so much relief, knowing that his father was never going to be able to come after him again. On the other, there was pain and guilt, so much damn guilt. "I didn't want to kill him. I just…I couldn't let him hurt you. I couldn't."
The hand in his hair gave a gentle squeeze. "Shh. Everyone knows it was an accident. It was self-defense, firefly. Even de cops said so."
"Oh, God, the cops…"
Remy cut him off before he could really get going on that. "Don't y' worry about dem. Papa handled dem. It's being ruled as an accidental fire and dat's exactly what it was. Y' was only trying to save our lives. He would've killed us, Spencer, and y' know it. Y' saved us."
Squeezing his eyes shut, Spencer shuddered slightly, the memory of it all playing over in his mind. "I, I didn't mean for that to happen. It just, my head, it hurt so much and I couldn't, I couldn't control it all. When he jumped at me, it was too much. I couldn't stop it anymore."
"Y' had a pretty serious concussion." Remy told him. His hand shifted in Spencer's hair, curling to brush over a spot that Spencer hadn't even realized was tender. He hadn't noticed before how careful Remy was being on where he touched on Spencer's head. "Best as dey could figure, looks like y' hit y'r head on somet'ing pretty hard. Didn't scramble y'r brains none, t'ough. Least, not more den dey already are."
The lightly teasing tone was meant to make Spencer smile and it succeeded, slightly. A faint smile touched his lips. It was gone as quick as it came, though. So much had happened, so many things in his life had changed, and now this. No matter what Remy said, no matter how the cops ruled it, Spencer knew what had happened. He knew. William was dead because of him. Maybe he hadn't meant it to happen. Maybe he had. Maybe, subconsciously, he'd wanted it. Because, the flames hadn't hurt Remy, had they? He'd been safe. Yet William…
The guilt of that was something that Spencer was going to have to live with for the rest of his life. Something he would have to come to terms with. His father was dead and it was his fault.
A finger curled underneath Spencer's chin and tipped his face up until he was no longer able to hide against Remy. Their eyes met and Remy held him there. There was such a look of warmth in that gaze, so much love, and Spencer couldn't help but wonder how anyone had ever accused him of being the devil when he looked like that. For so long now Spencer had been nursing this quiet little crush deep inside of him, always afraid to say something, to act on it. Afraid to reach out and touch. Yet it seemed the most natural thing in the world when Remy dipped his head down and brushed his lips oh-so-lightly against his in their first kiss, a kiss so sweet and full of love that Spencer felt his eyes well up. Remy smiled at the sight and brushed away the single tear that fell with one of his knuckles. "It's gonna be okay, Spencer. I know it don't seem like it right now, mais, it will. We're gonna get t'rough dis, together. D'accord?"
With Remy by his side, he'd be okay. He'd heal. It wouldn't happen overnight and Spencer knew there were a lot of potholes waiting for them in the road ahead. They each had their own issues and those were going to take a lot to work past. There was a lot that Spencer wasn't sure he'd ever be able to give the man. Especially when it came to his body. His years with William had left scars both inside and out. But something inside told him that so long as they had one another, they'd make it through. Smiling up at him, he nodded. "Okay."
There you go, folks! I hope you liked it. I'm so sorry the last chapter took so long and I hope it was worth the wait. Merci for all y'r patience!