I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I hope it turned out okay. Thanks so much for the favs and comments and such, everyone! I never expected so many people to like this :)

Spencer was shocked to find that he slept like the dead. No sooner had his head hit the pillow than he was out like a light. He hadn't even taken the time to look around his room. Once Remy and Henri had dropped him off after their silent trek here, he'd come in and shut the door, locking it behind him, and then had simply collapsed down onto the bed. Sleep had been exactly what his body needed. Now that he'd had a full, uninterrupted night of it, his mind was much clearer. That wasn't necessarily a positive thing. That meant that he couldn't hide from what was happening anymore, not even in the safety of his own mind. Not quite ready to confront those thoughts yet, he pushed off the last vestiges of sleep and opened up his eyes.

The first thing that Spencer noticed when he opened his eyes was that the bed he was lying on was one of the nicest beds he'd ever seen. A four poster bed with curtains tied back at each poster that, if he wanted, looked like he could untie and completely envelope the bed, shutting him away and creating his own little hideaway. They were a gorgeous deep blue color that matched the bedding he was lying on, which was so soft it was Heavenly.

The second thing he noticed was that his bed wasn't the only one in here.

Spencer froze in place when he saw the other bed. It was almost identical to his except that it was styled in reds instead of blues. His painfully alert brain only took a second to recognize the figure bundled up amongst the dark red blankets. He wouldn't have known except for the head of auburn hair that stuck out at the top. Only one person that he'd met last night had that color hair. That was Remy lying over there. Why was he in here? Why on earth were they sharing a room? Was this part of being his 'companion'? Maybe Jean-Luc truly had been trying to get someone to be his son's friend. So much so that he was actually housing them in the same room despite the fact that this house looked plenty large enough for them all to have their own rooms.

Panic licked at Spencer's insides. He'd hoped he would at least have his own room here. Someplace that he could escape to and hide from the rest of the house. Somewhere that would be his. Apparently that had been just too much to hope for. Not only had he given up his whole life to be here, his pride and his dignity, he was now giving up any chance of privacy as well.

It didn't matter how much his visions and feelings last night had insisted that this was right. That he was where he needed to be, doing what he needed to do. Wasn't he allowed to at least retain something for himself? It felt like he was taking everything he had, everything he was and everything he would be, and putting them into the hands of a teenage boy that he'd never met before and who, judging by his behavior last night, didn't exactly think all that highly of Spencer so far. To make it worse, the biggest part of Spencer was insisting that this was exactly the right thing to do and that terrified him like nothing else.

"Bon Dieu, would y' knock it off?" A low, husky voice growled out, startling Spencer so bad he actually jumped.

Pathetically, it took him a moment to realize that it had been Remy speaking, though the teen hadn't moved from his spot in bed. He hadn't even uncovered his head. Furrowing his brow, Spencer looked over to him, wondering just what on earth he was talking about. "Excuse me?" Maybe he was talking in his sleep. That would be just Spencer's luck, wouldn't it, to be stuck rooming with someone who talked in their sleep.

Remy made a sound that was half groan, half growl, and seemed to actually burrow further under the blankets. "Remy can feel y' angsting all de way over here. Knock it off. It's too early fo' dis shit."

What was it about this man that felt so right one moment and put his back up so effectively the next? Spencer never talked back to people. He'd been on the bad end of too many bullies to make that mistake anymore. Yet, just like last night, that filter between mouth and brain seemed gone and he was speaking before he could even think about it, the words tripping past his lips coated in sarcasm. "I'm so sorry. I'm still new at this. I'll try to remember in the future to make sure I'm completely alone before I give in to a panic attack. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you any more than I already have."

This time the sound Remy made faintly resembled a snort. The blankets moved again, though, and Remy's head actually popped out the top. His eyes were heavy with sleep yet startlingly clear even across the room. There was no doubt they were focusing on him. He looked Spencer over with an assessing gaze that was usually only seen on adults. Whatever he saw must've satisfied him because he relaxed again and a hint of humor touched his face. "Y'r a sassy little fucker. T'ought y' was here to be Remy's ami, not try an cut him up wit' dat sharp tongue of y'rs."

"This is the first time I've ever been sold into friendship. Pardon me if I'm not sure of the rules here." Spencer snapped back. "I'll make sure to ask your father later to lay it all out for me."

Those were the magic words. They wiped any humor off Remy's face and had him glaring as he sat up in bed. "Y' watch y'r tongue about Papa." The Cajun said sharply. "He aint de one dat did dis. Y' wanna get mad at anyone, get mad at y'r Papa. He's de one dat offered y' up to pay off de debt he was dumb enough to get."

Spencer flinched underneath the sharpness of those words. Something in him, the little part of him that had secretly been hoping that maybe Jean-Luc had demanded this, that he'd been the one to ask, withered away and died. Much as he wanted to believe Remy was lying, there was nothing in his aura that suggested it. Everything about him screamed honesty in that statement. Jean-Luc hadn't asked for Spencer as payment—William had actually offered up his own child. It had been his idea. The ache inside of Spencer grew and spread. Knowing that his father had agreed to this had been hard enough for him to deal with. Finding out that it had been William's idea to begin with was devastating. He'd known his father didn't like him. He'd just never thought his hatred had run so deep. Spencer curled his hands tightly into his bedding and fought back the tears that burned at the back of his eyes.

Focused as he was on not breaking apart, he didn't notice how Remy flinched at his own words or how his expression became pained as he saw and felt Spencer's pain. The teen blew out a breath and mentally cursed himself out. When he spoke, his voice had changed again, becoming softer and almost gentle. "Je suis désolé, Spencer. Dat wasn't fair. Remy shouldn't have said dat."

Spencer swallowed back the sob that he was ashamed to admit was so close to the surface. "Why not?" He croaked, his voice rough. "It's the truth. Besides, it's not like it's any real surprise. He's wanted to get rid of me since the day I was born." The words came out ringing with fourteen years' worth of bitterness. Unable to just sit there, perilously close to breaking, Spencer pushed himself up off the bed and swung his legs down to the ground. "Excuse me, I need to find the bathroom."

"Right across de hall." Remy said gently.

Spencer hurried out of the room without a backward glance. Behind him, Remy let out a low string of curses and flopped back onto his bed.

It took almost ten minutes in the bathroom for Spencer to get himself calm and under control. He couldn't help giving in to the tears, though he glared furiously at his reflection afterwards. There'd be no hiding the redness or swelling to his eyes since he didn't have his usual sunglasses. If it wasn't for the cap on his head—which had surprisingly stayed on all night without his hair escaping—he'd use his bangs to hide his eyes. But he preferred to keep his hair covered as often as possible. The only time he'd ever been open about having it down was when he was home alone with his mother. Even around his father he always made a point to put one of his hats on.

Spencer took a bit of time with his appearance before he came out. Checked his hat, made sure his hair was tucked inside, splashed some cold water on his face to try and at least take away some of the signs that he'd been crying, and he straightened out clothes wrinkled from being slept in. Who knew if his stuff had been brought over? Once he was all put together, he made himself leave the bathroom and venture out into the house. It was sort of tempting to go back into the bedroom. To just crawl into bed and hide out for a little while longer. He didn't want to chance Remy still being in there, though. Not after the conversation they'd had. He still felt just a little too raw on the inside and he wasn't sure he could take any more of Remy's sarcasm or even the kindness he'd shown underneath. Either one might break the fragile control that Spencer had managed to gather.

That left him just wandering, not quite sure where to go or what to do. However, he didn't get far before he ran into someone. He was halfway down the staircase that Remy had taken him up last night when a door just below opened and Jean-Luc came walking out. He caught sight of Spencer almost immediately and a friendly smile lit up his face. It took years off him and made him eminently more approachable. Gone was the serious, calculating man who had spoken with William last night. This man looked younger, happier, more relaxed. He looked like a man at ease in his own home, not someone set to do business, Spencer realized. This was Jean-Luc the person instead of Jean-Luc the businessman, or thief, or whatever title it was he went by.

"Spencer!" He greeted him cheerfully. He stopped at the base of the stairs and waited as the young teen descended. "Bonjour, petit! Y'r just in time fo' breakfast. Come on, I'll show y' de way to de dining room. How'd y' sleep last night? Did y' like y'r bed?"

These people were making it extremely difficult for Spencer to settle on one emotion. His brain told him just how angry with them he should be, yet they all kept saying things or looking at him in ways that made it hard to do anything but smile back at them. Off kilter and unsure, he pulled inwards, reminding himself over and over that these people were essentially his owners and not his friends. It cooled his voice and left him sounding stiff and formal. "I slept well, thank you, sir."

"It's just family here, Spencer. Y' can call me Jean-Luc." The man offered kindly.

"Yes, sir."

Spencer reached the bottom of the stairs and fell into step beside the man, following as he was led down the hallway and through a door that brought them to a beautiful dining room with a large mahogany breakfast table that was currently being set with trays of what looked to be eggs, hash browns, gravy, sausage, biscuits—just about anything a person could want for breakfast. Mattie was currently setting down what looked and smelled to be a pot of coffee. Remy and Henri were both already there, sitting side by side and talking low with each other. They looked up at the sound of the door opening and there was no mistaking the love on them as they greeted their father. That said a lot about the man and was another point in his favor on the mental checklist that Spencer was slowly building. Jean-Luc very obviously had the affections of his boys. Any fool could see that they cared for him and he for them.

The looks they sent his way weren't anywhere near as reassuring. There was no doubt they could see the way his eyes were swollen as they always got on the few occasions he gave in to tears. Remy winced a little when he saw him. But Henri met his gaze head on, one of the few times in Spencer's life that someone didn't flinch at his multi colored eyes. Then his eyes drifted and traveled down a little and Spencer knew he was looking at the cut and bruise left from the back of William's hand yesterday. Spencer quickly dropped his eyes and busied himself taking the seat that Jean-Luc gestured to, one that put him almost directly across from Remy.

Mattie came round the table, tapping the top of Spencer's head as she passed and startling him. "No hats at de table, chile." She told him. When his wide eyes flew up towards her, she smiled at him. She patted at his arm and slipped down into the chair next to him. "Don't worry none. Y' aint got not'ing to hide in dis house. Aint no one here gonna give y' trouble fo' how y' look."

That was easy for her to say. She wasn't the one that had to live this way. But there was no need to stir up trouble over something as little as a hat. Lifting one hand, Spencer nervously gripped at his hat for one brief second. Then, braced for the worst, he pulled it off his head. The shoulder length shaggy silver hair spilled down around his head, a mess from having been hidden under his hat all night long. Self-consciously, he ran a hand through it, breaking up the tangles and smoothing it back. He gave a small flinch when Mattie patted his arm again. She ignored it and beamed at him. "Much better." She said warmly. "De spirits left deir mark on y'. Dere aint no shame in dat."

"Looks fine t'me." Henri piped up. He flashed a charming smile at Spencer and then surprised him by winking at him. "Matches y'r eyes, anyways. Give it a few years and de chicks will go wild fo' dat. Y'll be unique. Girls like dat."

To Spencer's shock, that was all that was said on that. No one else mentioned anything about his silver hair, nor did they give him the weird looks and stares that he was used to. Instead, they all dove in to their breakfast, trays being passed around and food served up while Henri launched into some story about something he'd done with his friends the day before. They tried their best to make the atmosphere as relaxed as possible for Spencer, even if he didn't realize it, but Spencer was still too caught up in his own thoughts to really relax. Breakfast for Spencer was an uncomfortable affair. He picked at his food, not really eating much of it. His eyes stayed trained on his plate most of the time. He didn't look up, avoiding all eye contact with anyone, and they allowed it.

Head down, he missed it when Remy tried to start to say something to him and was cut off by Jean-Luc, who gave a small shake of his head and indicated for his boys to leave Spencer alone. He could see that the young teen wasn't quite up for conversation yet. They'd pushed him far enough out of his comfort for the moment. The rest could come later, once they talked. The senior LeBeau had a feeling that Spencer wasn't going to start relaxing in any way until they finally got everything out in the open. Even then, it was going to be iffy. His whole life had been taken and turned around and tossed upside down. It was amazing that he was staying as calm as he was. Jean-Luc looked down at the boy who was somehow managing to curl in on himself until he was almost half his size and he remembered a different young boy, years ago, who had been just as scared and just as out of place, only he hadn't hid. He'd sat there with a lifted chin and a defiant, daring light in those devil eyes and a sneer curling his lips, far more cynical than any ten year old had any right to be.

Remy had been an angry, distrustful child. He'd expected horrible things from Jean-Luc because that was what life had handed him. It was what he'd come to expect in his years living on the streets. But underneath all of it had been a scared little boy that Jean-Luc had been able to just catch glimpses of, little peeks behind the hard exterior, and it was that little boy that he'd eventually coaxed out until now, six years later, he had a happy and loving teenager. One who still carried the scars of his youth, just without all the rage and fear. It'd taken a lot of hard work on his part. Plenty of fights, long nights spent worrying, and moments where he'd felt like nothing he was doing was getting through. There had been plenty of times where it'd seemed like Remy was actually trying to find a way to piss him off, to push and push until he snapped. He'd only been testing his boundaries, Jean-Luc knew, trying to find how far he could go and what would happen when he pushed. He had needed to know what kind of reaction he might get for doing something wrong. Eventually, after a lot of work and a few close calls that still made the older man shudder to think about, they'd found their peace.

Something told him that things were going to be quite different with Spencer. With Remy, there had been open defiance, an in-your-face dare to harm him and see what happened. He'd made it clear he had no qualms about bolting at the first sign of trouble and going right back to the life he'd already lived on the streets. Spencer, he wasn't from around here and didn't have the security of a street life that he could fall back on, nor did he show the temper that Remy had. He seemed more withdrawn, everything more internalized. Unlike Remy, who had never known anything but the streets before he came here, Spencer had lived a life for fourteen years with his parents. He'd had a mother and father. Granted, the father was a bastard and it was obvious that his relationship with Spencer had been anything but good or friendly, but there was no telling what his relationship with his mother had been. Still, he'd had a family life, and he'd been ripped away from it, sold off to people he didn't know. That bred a lot of hurt.

It was going to be hard work, getting Spencer to open up to them and to trust them. Looking at the young teen once more, there was no doubt in Jean-Luc's mind that it would be worth it.

Breakfast really couldn't finish quick enough. Spencer was beyond grateful when everyone finally finished and Jean-Luc requested that Spencer and Henri join him down in his study. Mattie went off towards the kitchens and Remy was sent off to his lessons with only a small complaint registered towards it. Nervous as Spencer was about the coming conversation, he was grateful it was finally happening. Grateful that he was finally going to know what exactly was going on here and what was going to be expected of him.

He found himself once more standing in the room his father had brought him to last night. Their positions were almost identical to how they'd been the last time. Jean-Luc and Henri were side by side, leaning back against the desk. It left Spencer unsure for a moment as to where he should go or what he should do. A gesture from Jean-Luc indicated that Spencer should take the chair that had been Remy's before. The idea of being that close to them and down in a chair while they towered over him was enough to have Spencer's nerves start climbing once more. There was no graceful way to refuse, though. He forced himself to go forward and slip down into the chair. It didn't escape anyone's notice that he pressed himself against the side furthest from them all.

Jean-Luc folded his hands in his lap and shifted so that he could turn to better look at Spencer. The expression he wore was calm and controlled. Solemn. "My intention was to bring y' in dis morning and explain a few t'ings to y'. Y'r old enough dat I believe y' got de right to know about what's happening to y'." He said, watching Spencer carefully with those dark, serious eyes. "However, de more I t'ink about t'ings, de more I'm worrying. So I want to start dis by asking y' somet'ing. How much do y' know about what's going on here, Spencer? What did y'r Papa tell y'?"

It took a little bit of effort for Spencer to swallow down the lump in his throat. What little breakfast he'd managed to get down was sitting like a lead ball in his stomach. "He told me that he owed you quite a debt and I was the only way to pay it off. That you would consider his debt paid in exchange for me, to act as companion to your youngest son."

"Did he tell y' who I am?"

Spencer nodded his head. "Yes, sir. He made sure I knew who you were and what you're involved in. He spent most of the afternoon explaining it."

"Most of…" Henri trailed off, his voice startled. He shot his Papa a stunned look and then turned back towards Spencer with wide eyes. "Spencer, when did y'r Papa tell y' about dis whole deal?"

That lead ball in Spencer's stomach grew heavier. The way that Henri asked that put countless questions in Spencer's mind and he wasn't liking the answers that cropped up. His body tensed in instinctive preparation for whatever was about to come. Licking dry lips, he looked at each face in front of him, seeing the same concern on both of them and the dawning realization that told him they were figuring out the same thing that he was. "Yesterday." He said slowly, turning his eyes back to Jean-Luc. "He told me yesterday."

The slight tightening around Jean-Luc's eyes and the tension that snapped through Henri told Spencer plenty enough. He sat there, numb, watching as Jean-Luc's eyes showed an obvious debate. He wanted to shout at the man to keep quiet. To not say this. Too many blows had been dealt to Spencer already. Too many things, one right after the other, breaking him down. He knew what was coming next but hearing it would make it more real and he didn't know if he could handle this blow. It didn't look like he was going to get the choice.

"Spencer…" Jean-Luc hesitated for a moment as if unsure of what to say. Then he sighed. "Spencer, y'r Papa and I dealt with de contracts fo' dis two weeks ago. Last night was just de final signature. Dis has been planned out fo' weeks, t'ough. We had to have time to properly transfer custody over b'fore he could bring y' down here."

The words hit Spencer as hard as he'd known they would. It felt like the lead ball in his stomach jumped and struck him before sinking down low. It took away his air for a moment. Without realizing it, he pressed a fist against his stomach, trying to combat the ache that sat there. No, no, no. He couldn't have! Wide eyes were locked on Jean-Luc and the pleading in them broke the man's heart. "He…no. You mean…he knew for, for weeks? For two weeks?"

"Oui."

Spencer closed his eyes against yet another wave of pain. Two weeks, his father had known about this! Two weeks and he hadn't said a single thing to Spencer about it! He curled in a little, head bowing just enough that his hair sheltered his face. The others watched and ached for him. For just how much weight was being put on those thin shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Spencer." Jean-Luc said softly. In his head, he cursed William Reid over and over again. "I was under de impression dat y' knew and agreed to this."

Fighting back a shudder, Spencer shook his head numbly. He took a deep, shaky breath, forcing it in and out of his aching lungs, and he felt his heart break just a little more. Anything he'd felt for his father, any love or respect that had managed to survive the past fourteen years—or the past twelve hours, especially—cracked and broke, falling to pieces around him, and a piece of his childhood fell with it. A part of the innocence he'd held was gone, broken under the weight of all this knowledge. The only thing that kept Spencer from giving in and curling up into a miserable ball right here in the chair was the tiny bit of pride he somehow still had left. That little spark of strength that had helped him to get through the years he'd already lived and which would get him through the next four as well. Spencer drew on it, gathering it to him, wrapping it around him like a cloak that could protect him from the world. He clutched tightly to it and steadied himself until he could finally lift his chin and open his eyes once more. The two looking on were both amazed and saddened by the very adult look that now smoothed over Spencer's face. No child should look that way.

"What is it you expect of me, sir?" Spencer asked. He dealt best with facts and rules. Those were what he needed to ground himself in the chaos. He needed to know what was expected of him here, what his role would be. Because something told him that the way they use the word 'companion' meant something entirely different than what he might be thinking.

Jean-Luc could see how tightly Spencer was holding himself right now. He was close to the edge of what he could handle but he wasn't backing down. There was a slightly determined lilt to his head, a stubborn lift to his chin. Seeing that, he amended the carefully worded speech he'd had planned and he followed his instinct, opting for more blunt, honest words. "Old Guild laws and customs say dat we can accept y' as payment fo' de debt. By dose customs, I claimed y' not fo' m'self, mais fo' m' son."

"Meaning that your son owns me." Spencer supplied flatly. He had suspected as much.

The man didn't bother denying it. "In de eyes of de Guild and people outside dis house, y'll be considered Remy's. Dere's no getting around dat. To us in de house, we know better. Y'r not gonna be a slave here, Spencer. I know y' won't believe me right now, mais de minute I agreed to take y' in, y' became family, not property, and dat's how I'll treat y'. Dat means y'll get de same treatment m'boys get. We'll get y' started on lessons wit' Remy and his tutor fo' y'r schooling, an wit' Henri here fo' y'r more physical training."

One word in all of that caught Spencer's attention the most. He sat up just a little straighter. "Schooling?"

"Oui. We've found it easier to hire a tutor to come to de house instead of sending Remy out to school." Jean-Luc's eyes flicked up to Spencer's hair and then back to his face. "I imagine it'd be de same for you, oui?"

"I've already obtained my diploma, sir. Almost two years ago." Spencer said.

He saw surprise on both Henri and Jean-Luc's faces. The senior LeBeau's surprise wiped away to a smile, though, one that looked oddly—proud. "Y' graduated high school when y' were twelve?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, sir. I've actually been looking into colleges lately. But, I suppose…" He trailed off, realizing that this was yet another thing that he was losing here. The plans he'd been secretly building, hopes of finding a good school like Caltech maybe, were gone. At least, so he thought. He hadn't expected what Jean-Luc said next. "We have a good college around here." The man told him, no sign of mockery or anything else in his voice that might suggest he was kidding. "I'll get de information fo' y' to look at, if y' wish."

Stunned, Spencer didn't think before he opened his mouth, blurting out "You'd let me go to college?"

"Of course." Jean-Luc smiled warmly at him. "I'd ask dat y' wait until de new term, t'ough. I'd like y' to get a little settled in here, first. Get a little of y'r training going. Being Remy's offers y' a bit of protection, at least in de eyes of some, mais at de same time it puts a bit of a target on y'. I'd feel better about y' going out to college if I knew fo' sure dat y' could defend y'rself if needed. Do y' t'ink y' can agree to dat?"

Learn a bit of self-defense, how to protect himself, in exchange for being allowed to attend college, something he'd desperately wanted for the past two years? Spencer didn't even have to think about it. He sat up a little straighter and nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."

Jean-Luc's smile grew. "Wonderful."

This definitely hadn't been what Spencer was expecting when he'd come in here. He hadn't thought that they'd be so nice or that they'd care so much about what he wanted. He'd thought for sure that he would find himself a slave here to the teenager he didn't know and who he found both friendly and annoying all at the same time. Instead, he was being offered his dream. College. Sure, it was being dangled in front of him like a carrot, enticing him into behaving. Spencer was stupid; he saw that. But really, it was a rather fair, a bit of training in exchange for the schooling he wanted so desperately. He could live with that. Four years, he reminded himself. All he had to do was survive four years here. Then he'd be an adult and free to do what he wanted. Until then, he was stuck here, and it was obvious there was no getting out of it. Why not make the very best of the situation he was thrust into? If he could get some schooling out of this, get a degree or two, it would give him something solid to build on when it came time to go. And whatever 'training' they offered him could only help. Besides, his father had made it clear to him just how powerful this family was and how many enemies they had and it wasn't hard to believe when Jean-Luc said that being Remy's put a target on his back. Learning how to defend himself seemed both practical and logical.

He pushed down the feeling of right that his other senses almost purred at him at the mention of being Remy's. He didn't belong to anyone. People could own other people anymore. He was just…curious. There was no harm in that.