For what felt like the hundredth time, Spencer told the people around him "I'm fine." He was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, thankfully still wearing his own pants. His shirt had been discarded so the doctor could look him over and check the bruising on his stomach. After being thoroughly checked over and even x-rayed, he'd been declared fine. There was no serious damage to his head from hitting the ground. It left him with a headache that wasn't going away and that the doctor warned would probably be there most of the night and with a knot on the back of his head. Otherwise, the rest of the damage was simply bruising. No ribs were broken, thankfully. His stomach would be sore for a while but Spencer knew he'd handle it. He'd taken worse hits to his stomach before. The other bruises on his back, his arms and his legs, those were simple and would just heal on their own. He wished they would've given him a shirt of some kind, though. It felt extremely awkward to be sitting here with no shirt. He didn't like being this exposed.
Once he'd been cleared, the team had come in. The first thing he'd demanded was that they tell him how Evans was doing. When they told him that he was in surgery but the doctors were positive about his chance for recovery, Spencer sighed in relief. Then had come the part he wasn't looking forward to. "What happened, Reid?" Aaron asked.
In clear, concise terms, Spencer told them everything from the minute they'd gone in the door until the time that help arrived. He kept his tone professional, not allowing emotion to seep into his words. It was easier that way. The last thing he really wanted to do was let himself think about things. He didn't want to think about what it had felt like to lie in the dirt and be felt up by a sadistic pervert. He didn't want to think about how close he'd really come, or what could've happened if he hadn't fought so hard. Once his story was done, he tried to lighten the moment by giving Derek a small smile and saying "I guess your self-defense lessons really did sink in."
"I guess they did." Derek blew out a breath and shook his head, half his mouth quirking up. "You kicked ass, kid. I got a look at the guy when the medics fixed him up."
"The nose was Joe." Spencer reminded him.
Dave let out a low chuckle. "That just means everything else was you."
Emily reached out and touched his arm, startling him enough that he jumped just a little. None of them commented on it, but she drew her hand back. "Did the doctor clear you to leave?" she asked.
A small scowl twisted Spencer's face. That had been a hard won point with the doctor. The man had wanted to keep him for observation, which seemed ridiculous to Spencer. Bruising and a bump on the head were not reasons to stay overnight in a hospital! He would heal up much better at home. And home was where he wanted to be. Plus, when he got out of here, he had something very important to take care of. He couldn't do that from a hospital bed. "Eventually, yes. He said I'm clear for work as well, I just need to take it easy for the next week or two."
"So no more tackling Unsubs." Derek teased him.
He gave his best friend an amused look. "I think I'll leave that to you."
While the others laughed, Aaron kept his gaze steady on Spencer. He waited for quiet before he spoke up. "You can come in Monday and make your official statement and take care of any paperwork pertaining to this case. Other than that, I want you off for the rest of the week, Reid. This isn't negotiable." He tacked that on when it was obvious Spencer was going to argue. "You need rest from this. Go home, Reid. Morgan, can you give him a ride? The rest of us will go and take care of Rupert."
"What about Evans? I want to be here when he comes out of surgery. And Joe? How's he? I need to be here…"
"We'll call you as soon as we know anything, you have my word." Aaron told him.
"Hotch…"
"Nuh uh." Derek cut in. He pulled off his jacket and stepped up beside Spencer, wrapping it around his shoulders, able to see that Spencer wasn't just cold, but slightly embarrassed as well at being half dressed. "Come on, pretty boy. Let's get you home. First, though, you've got some anxious ladies waiting out in the waiting room. You've gotta stop in and let JJ and Garcia see you before we leave."
Oh, boy. Yay. JJ was going to fuss and Penelope was probably going to try to squeeze him before she started fussing too. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up with one or both trying to come home with him to help 'take care' of him. That was the very last thing he needed. He carefully moved off the bed, only wincing a little at the protest from his ribs. Who knew that guy could hit so hard? It almost felt like the bruising went straight down to his ribs.
On his feet, Spencer looked around at his friends, gathering the courage to do what it was he'd decided while the doctor had looked at him. Stuck sitting in this bed and being examined, Spencer had retreated into his thoughts to distract himself from the pain. Instead of thinking about the case—he didn't really want to think about that, it made him start to shake just the slightest bit—he'd started thinking about Remy. And as he thought about him, he realized something very important. He'd been stressing about people's reactions so badly that he'd almost let it cost him something very, very important. Earlier, he'd told himself he had to think about what he was scared of losing more; his friendships, or Remy. He had that answer now. "I, um, I know this is slightly random, b-but I was um, I was wondering if you guys might be free later tonight, once things are wrapped up. I'd like it if you could all, um, come down to the bar, Lagniappe. It's kind of important. I'd like JJ and Garcia there, too."
They gave their agreement so easily, it surprised Spencer a little. He saw something in Derek's eyes, an approval of sorts as well as a strong support that told him that Derek knew what he was doing and was going to support him wholeheartedly. That would make it a little easier. Committed to this now, Spencer nodded. Now it was time to go.
Walking was a little slow going at first until he got his breathing steady. He moved beside Derek, the others in front of them, and when they reached the waiting room he tried to brace himself to deal with the ladies reactions. What he found wasn't exactly what he was expecting. JJ and Penelope were both there…and so was Remy. The three rose when he came out and Spencer and Remy's eyes locked across the room.
Only one thing came to Spencer's mind and there was no stopping him from acting on it. He didn't care who was watching or what anyone thought right now. All thoughts of his carefully planned evening, of how he had decided to tell his friends, it all fell away. With the first honest sign of emotion the others had seen from him since they'd found him in the barn, Spencer croaked out "Remy" in an aching voice. Then he stepped around everyone and moved right toward him. Remy opened his arms automatically when he got close and Spencer found himself in the one place he wanted to be—wrapped tight in Remy's arms. It made his bruises ache but he didn't care. He brought his arms out, accidentally dropping Derek's coat when he did, and he wrapped them around Remy's waist, holding him as tight as he could. He buried his face against the curve of Remy's neck and found that it was suddenly just a little bit easier to breathe.
He didn't notice anyone's reactions around him. He didn't even notice that Derek stepped forward and picked up his coat. All he could focus on was holding this man and being held in return. "How'd you know to come?" He murmured against Remy's skin. Remy's head turned a little, his face pressing in close so he could murmur back. "Penny called me. She said you were hurt and you might need help getting home. Why didn't you call me, Spencer?"
"I hurt you. I wasn't sure that y-you'd come." He admitted quietly. Embarrassed, Spencer closed his eyes and tightened his grip a bit more. "I'm sorry, Remy."
"Hush now, bébé. Hush. We'll talk about this at home, oui? I got you now and I aint going nowhere."
Home. Strange, how he didn't picture a place anymore. Home was right here, right in his arms. Spencer took a few ragged breaths, trying to get himself back under control again. Only when he was sure he was calm did he dare to pull away a little. He didn't move far, though. Just enough that he could tip his head and look up into Remy's face. Heart in his throat, Spencer stared at those green eyes he so loved to lose himself in, and he did what came naturally to him. He stretched up just the slightest bit and pressed his lips against Remy's in a quick, gentle kiss. The shock on Remy's face when he pulled back was priceless. Keeping a loose grip around him, Spencer moved just a little so that he was more against Remy's side, and he looked at his friends, preparing himself for whatever he might find. Penelope and Derek were both grinning at him, standing near and obviously supportive. Dave had a tiny smirk on his face and a look that suggested that he'd already figured this out. Aaron looked just as calm as normal, but to those that knew him there was a hint of a smile playing at the edges of his lips. Emily looked stunned, as did JJ, but the both of them were smiling.
A weight slid off of Spencer's shoulders at those looks. Smiles. He was getting smiles. No one was angry or upset or mocking or hurtful. Just…smiling. They were all smiling. Tension started to drain away and he leaned just a little more in against Remy, letting his head rest against him. He didn't realize the image he presented to his team. Shy little Spencer, who didn't feel comfortable even changing his shirt where anyone else could see, was standing shirtless in the waiting room of the hospital while cuddled up against the side of a man they didn't know, and he didn't appear the least bit bothered by the arm that was wrapped around him. The guy who still jumped when touched and who didn't shake hands with people didn't seem to mind that Remy's hand was stroking over his bicep. Spencer actually found the gesture soothing. The profilers watching him could easily see the way Spencer relaxed into Remy, the comfort and affection obvious between them. Even without the kiss, there was no denying there was something between them. They'd all been able to see it in the way that Spencer had gone straight to Remy's arms. Instead of shying away from physical contact, he'd sought it out.
A crooked little grin grew on Spencer's lips, only a hint of shyness at the edges. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Remy LeBeau. Remy, these are my teammates. You know Morgan and Garcia. This is David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, and Jennifer Jareau." As he introduced each one, he gestured at them with his hand, showing Remy which name went to which person.
Remy stuck a hand out, shaking theirs one by one, grinning broadly the entire time. His happiness was practically radiating from him. "It's a pleasure to meet y'all." He drawled out, his accent just a little thicker as tended to happen when he was emotional. "Spencer speaks very highly of you."
"Wait a second…" JJ cocked her head a little and looked him over. "Weren't you the one that Spence met at that bar a few months back? Lagniappe?"
Remy nodded at her. "Oui."
"Four months and five days ago, actually. We've been, um, seeing each other since then." Spencer stammered out, flushing just a little. He shifted under their scrutiny and the movement jarred his head a little, making him suck in a breath, which only succeeded in making his stomach start to throb. His hand clenched down on Remy's hip and his head bowed down just a little. Remy automatically turned toward him, one hand coming up to cradle the side of his neck, his thumb stroking over Spencer's jawline. "Careful breaths, cher. Not too fast and not too slow. That's it. There you go."
Behind him, Spencer heard Derek's low voice. "Why don't you go ahead and get him home? That's what he needs most right now. We'll get together tomorrow or Monday, Reid. You just rest tonight."
Remy shifted his weight, moving one arm and then the other off of Spencer. He brought them back around him when he tucked something over Spencer's shoulders. It took a second for him to realize that Remy had pulled his trench coat over him. Then Remy was tucking him in under one arm, keeping him close against his side, and Spencer was being led out of the waiting room. His head was still pounding and the lights weren't helping much. Trusting himself to Remy's care, he squinted his eyes mostly shut, blocking the light out. He exchanged short goodbyes with the team before he was being led out a door and towards Remy's car.
The ride home was quiet. Mostly it was because Spencer's head was still throbbing and the movement of the car had him slightly nauseous. When the car finally stopped, he was eternally grateful. The aching, he could deal with. The headache combined with the roll and pitch of his stomach—that, he could live without. Still it was sticking with him enough that he didn't even protest when Remy came around the car and helped him into the house. On his own he probably would've wobbled his way inside. Any other time, with any other person, he probably would've been too embarrassed to even think about letting himself get help. With Remy, all he felt was gratitude.
He noticed that they weren't at his apartment but at Remy's house and he was absurdly pleased by that. Together, they made their way back to the bedroom. "Mm. Bathroom." Spencer spoke for the first time since they'd left the hospital. "I need a shower." He needed one desperately. They'd cleaned the areas they'd needed to at the hospital. That left the rest of him still covered with dirt. Plus, there was nothing he wanted more than to wash the feel of Rupert's disgusting hands off of his skin. A shiver ran down his spine and he leaned just a little closer to Remy.
"D'accord." Remy squeezed him lightly and steered them toward the master bath.
Spencer leaned against the counter by the sink while Remy turned on the water in the shower stall. His bathroom was, as he put it, his personal indulgence. He had a shower stall as well as a large whirlpool tub that Spencer knew from experience could easily fit the both of them in it. Sighing, he looked down at his feet, contemplating how much it would hurt to bend over and untie his shoes. That thought was cut off when Remy moved back over and squatted down in front of him. Spencer gaped down at him before pulling away the foot Remy was reaching for. "What on earth are you doing?" He squeaked out, embarrassment making his voice just slightly higher in pitch.
There was just a tiny hint of amusement to Remy's eyes when he looked up at him. "Helping you take your shoes off, Spencer. You're bruised, so bending aint the smartest thing. Now hold still and let me get them off, s'il tu plait."
He couldn't help how his cheeks heated as Remy took off one shoe and sock and then the other. Remy rose up out of his crouch and gave a soft chuckle at the embarrassment he could see on Spencer's face. The chuckle faded, as did the amusement on his face, leaving behind concern and something else, something so strong it made Spencer's heart clench. Remy lifted a hand, cupping his cheek so gently. He said nothing. For a moment, they simply looked at one another, eyes locked in a silent communication of emotions that neither of them could seem to manage to vocalize right then.
Eventually Remy was the one to break it. He looked away, breathing in deeply and bringing himself back under control. Then he turned back and helped Spencer to remove the trench coat he was still wearing. It was amazing to the young agent that Remy hadn't asked yet what had happened. He hadn't asked for or demanded an explanation as to what had happened to put him in the hospital. As he reached down to unhook his belt, Spencer mentioned it, needing to know why. "You um, you haven't asked me." He said softly. He kept his eyes locked on his pants while he undid the button as well. "You haven't asked what happened."
"You needed the quiet. Plus, Penny told me a little bit. She said you wrestled with the Unsub and you got hurt. The details can wait till you're ready."
"Shower first. Then…" Spencer looked up, stopping his hands for a moment. He chewed at the inside of his lip. "Then I…I need to talk. I need to tell you some things."
"D'accord."
Remy helped him finish stripping and, when Spencer softly and shyly asked "Join me?" he also stripped himself down. Together the two stepped into the stall. Spencer had asked Remy in for two reasons. One, he wasn't sure how much the dizziness was going to stick around. Two, he really, really didn't want to be alone right at the moment. He wanted Remy with him.
The shower was one of the most intimate moments the two had ever shared. Never before had Spencer ever felt so cherished by someone. Remy sort of took over, cradling him close and gently washing him with the washcloth. He used the body wash that Spencer left here and made sure that no inch of him was left unclean. Not only could Spencer feel the dirt washing away, but he swore he could feel the disgusting touch of Rupert's hands washing away as well. It was a cathartic experience. Remy was gentle over the bruises, taking extra time over each of them as if he could chase them away with his touch. The only pain that came was when he started to wet Spencer's hair to wash it and his hands found the knot under his hair. Spencer hissed slightly and Remy soothed him down with gentle strokes in his hair around it and a warming kiss.
By the time they were done, Spencer was lost in a cloud, floating with both exhaustion and a soft hum of pleasure. He'd had no idea how good it could feel to have someone take care of him. Cradled in Remy's arms, with water pouring over them, he sort of drifted, just letting his mind float. He heard the water shut off and stirred a little, making as if to try to pull away. Remy just murmured, a wordless sound, and he drew Spencer out with him. Through heavy-lidded eyes, Spencer watched Remy reach out and grab a robe and bring it over. He let himself be bundled in it, the soft material only adding to that floating feeling.
"C'mon, cher." Remy's voice was low and a little husky. His hands were still so gentle when he moved Spencer out to the bedroom and sat him on the edge of the bed. A towel ran over Spencer's head, carefully drying his hair, making sure not to hit the lump there. Remy stood in front of him, between his knees, and Spencer couldn't stop from leaning forward and letting his head rest against Remy's stomach. Absently he wondered when Remy had put on his pajama pants. He hadn't seen him do it. But he hadn't seen him grab the towel either. His brain was moving slower than normal. Then he just decided that he didn't really care. The towel rubbing his hair felt wonderful, the robe he wore was soft and warm, and he was resting here against Remy. What else could he really ask for?
The towel in his hair stopped and Spencer made a soft sound of dissent. He felt a hand smooth over his hair, followed by the soft sound of Remy's voice. "You're falling asleep sitting up, Spencer. Let's get you lying back in the bed, oui?"
"I wanted to talk to you." Spencer mumbled against Remy's stomach.
Once more that hand smoothed over his hair. "After you sleep. I aint going nowhere, Spencer. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Mm." That would have to do. His eyes had closed at some point and he didn't even bother opening them to make the careful shift onto the bed. Pain tightened his features a little and had him gritting his teeth. Eventually he was stretched out on his back. He felt Remy climb into bed with him and once the older man settled beside him, Spencer carefully rolled over to snuggle up against his side. The doctor had recommended sleeping on the side with the bruising, citing that it would allow the uninjured side to expand as much as it could for deeper breathing. He'd bruised himself before and he knew that it wasn't comfortable at first in this position, but it was one that worked for him. Plus, Remy automatically put an arm around him like this, that hand going to play with his hair in a way that he knew Spencer loved. Sighing, Spencer let his body relax. There, with his head on Remy's shoulder, curled up safely in bed with him, he drifted off to sleep.
Hours later Spencer woke to an empty bed. It was pain that woke him; he'd rolled wrong and it had twisted his stomach, making the bruises ache sharply. Because of that, he woke quickly and his mind was clear in an instant. He clenched his eyes shut and focused on breathing past the pain, letting it sink back down to a more manageable level. Damn. He'd have to get up and see if his messenger bag was here. Had they brought it? He couldn't remember if he'd had it with him at the hospital or not. In it was his ibuprofen that he'd taken for his knee. Just in case, he kept it in his messenger bag so that he would be prepared while traveling on a case in the event that he overtaxed his knee and it started to swell or ache. Right now, it would ease some of his ache to take it. He thought to himself that he'd have to ask Remy if they'd brought his bag or not.
Where had Remy gone, though? Spencer felt the blankets beside him and they were still warm. That meant that Remy hadn't left the bed that long ago. That was when Spencer heard the low sound coming from somewhere outside of the room. Remy's voice. He was out in the main part of the house.
It took more time than Spencer liked—and quite a bit of mental swearing and jaw clenching—for him to get himself up out of bed. From experience he knew the first day after being beat up was bad, the second day was always worse, and by the fourth day he'd finally feel human once more. He knew his body and he knew how it reacted to things. Knowing that gave him the ability to get through the now. So long as he had a time frame to work with, he would be fine. He could tell himself he had so many hours, minutes, seconds until things would start to get better. It just made it easier for him.
On his feet, he didn't immediately head out of the bedroom. The first thing he did was grab some clothes to put on. He had some things here, things he'd left behind. Remy had told him not to worry about it and had just made room in the closet and the dresser for him without another word. Neither one had mentioned that. Just as they'd never mentioned the toothbrush Spencer kept here, or the shampoo and body wash, or all of the same things that Remy kept at his apartment. Despite having some of his own things here, Spencer didn't grab just his stuff. He took his own pair of black cotton lounge pants and Remy's SAIC t-shirt. SAIC was the college Remy had gone to—the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. It was just a little too big on him, dipping down to show off most of one pale shoulder, and it hung a little lower than his own shirts did, given Remy's few extra inches he had over him. For Spencer, that made it the perfect lounge shirt. This wasn't the first time he'd borrowed it. One night he hadn't had anything to sleep in and Remy had tossed this to him to wear. After that, Spencer had borrowed it on random occasions, even when he did have his own shirt to wear.
Putting them all on was yet another experience that required an amount of mental swearing that would've stunned those that knew him. Getting the pants on took sitting down on the bed and bending very carefully to get his legs into them before rising, pulling them up and tying them off. The shirt was easier because he knew how to move to minimize pain. He didn't lift his arms high, but slid his head in first and then carefully put in one arm and then the other. Once he was dressed, he took a moment to stand there and breathe. Only when he was sure he could move did he take the robe and hang it back up in the bathroom. Then he started to make his way out of the bedroom. What he found in the living room wasn't what he'd expected. Remy was there, talking softly as he'd heard, but he wasn't on the phone like Spencer had suspected. Belle was there with him, and Andrei was nowhere in sight.
Belle saw him first. No sooner had she saw him than she was up off the couch and hurrying over to him. Her hug had him wincing just the slightest bit. He schooled his expression quickly, hoping Remy hadn't seen it. With a shy smile he looked down at her when she pulled back. "Hey, Belle."
"What're you doing up? Remy told me you're hurt! You should be back in that bed, Spencer Reid, not up and wandering around!" She scolded him.
That teased an honest smile out of him. She sounded so motherly right then. "I'm fine, really. But thank you for your concern." Then, in an effort to distract her, he asked "Where's Andrei at?"
"He's over with his ami, Jimmy. I needed to come pick up something and Suzanne was willing to look after him for me so I could pass by here. It's a good thing I did, non? Aint no one call to tell me nothing's going on!"
Remy walked over to them, rolling his eyes as he passed Belle. "We've barely been home, cher. Give a body time to rest, yeah." He moved right up to Spencer, reaching up to brush some hair behind his ear. His expression softened and warmed. "How're you feeling, bébé?"
Why did that make his heart flutter? Remy had a ton of nicknames that he called Spencer, ranging from a simple 'cher'—which Belle told him was very common down south, though not between men really, except maybe between gay men—to things like bébé,mon cœur, mon bijou, mon cheri, andmon trésor. It reminded him a little of Penelope and the way she called them all different things. Only, whereas hers could fluster him or sometimes confuse him or even make him a tiny bit uncomfortable, Remy's always seemed to warm him and make his heart flutter just a little. It was crazy. He'd never been big on pet names! When he heard other people use them so frequently, he just hadn't understood why. People were given names for a reason! But it was just different with Remy. So very different.
Warm lips pressing against his snapped Spencer from his thoughts. He knew those lips and responded instantly, sighing into the kiss. Remy pulled back and smirked at him. "You had your thinking face on. What caught your thoughts so intently there?"
"I was thinking about the fact that, before I met you, I never understood why people used pet names with one another and I'd always considered it slightly absurd. A person is given a name for a reason. Yet it doesn't bother me when you do it. In fact, I quite enjoy it." Spencer answered automatically. He was surprised to see his usually confident Cajun actually start to blush. The effect was endearing. Spencer couldn't resist leaning in and kissing him.
Belle only gave them a second before waving her hand in the air and declaring "Enough of that! I been out here pestering Remy for answers and he aint giving me none. What happened to you, Spencer? How the hell did you get beat up?"
Now that was a loaded question. Spencer carefully schooled his expression to as neutral as he could manage. "By trying to subdue an Unsub. It's a hazard in my line of work." And speaking of hazards with work, he spun quickly to look at Remy, a very important question spilling past his lips "Have there been any phone calls? Hotch was supposed to call to let me know how Evans is doing."
"Non, no one called."
Damn. Spencer chewed on the inside of his lip, wondering if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Was it one of the instances where no news was good news? Evans had to still be alive if no one had called yet, right? They would've called to tell him if the man had died.
"Who's Evans?" Belle asked.
This wasn't something Spencer just wanted to stand here and talk about. He made a small gesture with his hand and moved toward the kitchen, trusting they would follow. If he was going to explain this, better to do it while doing something. He wanted to be able to keep calm. If it had been just he and Remy, he would've curled up with his partner and told him everything while in the shelter of his embrace. That had been his plan. With Belle here, he didn't have that luxury. Spencer now did what he had learned to do a long time ago; he pushed down personal emotion and focused on the facts. "Evans is an officer with the metro PD. He was with me today when we went to interview a potential suspect. Why don't the both of you have a seat and I'll make a pot of coffee and explain?"
Turned toward the pot, he didn't see the way Belle made to step toward him, mouth open as if she were about to stop him, or how Remy reached out and took her arm, giving a small shake of his head. He knew Spencer well enough to read the tension in him and to know that he wouldn't be able to sit right now. He needed the movement. The act of making coffee would give him something else to focus on as he spoke.
That was exactly what it did for Spencer. He focused on his actions as he started to speak. It was better to just tell them everything, he knew, instead of Belle asking a thousand questions and pulling it out of him little by little. Best to just get it all out at once. "The case we've been investigating today is one that we consulted on two weeks ago. At the time, they had three bodies. The three men had been beaten, sexually assaulted and then strangled to death. The Unsub kept them for twenty four hours after the initial abduction before murdering them. This morning, we were all called in because there was a report of another abduction. Joe Boston."
Spencer had the pot full of water now and he paused to pour it in, concentrating on lifting his arm up that high. His gaze landed on his hand briefly and he almost spilled the water at the sight of the bruising there. Briefly he felt the grip on his wrists once more, holding them down so he couldn't move, couldn't fight, and he swore he was going to be sick. Somehow he managed to push it back, to focus only on what he was doing and keep the water from spilling over. Once the water was in, he put the pot back and then grabbed the coffee and filters to start preparing those. "After being briefed, we had twenty one hours and fifty two minutes left in which to find him, so long as the Unsub stuck to his pattern. I went with Rossi to the morgue first and then I came back and built the geographical profile. By the time I was done, we all met down at the station and delivered our profile. Then Garcia called us with a short list of people who all shared contact with our victims. Two of the names on the list I actually recognized. They lecture occasionally at Georgetown and they were there a few times when I stopped in to guest lecture."
"You guest lecture at Georgetown?" Belle said with surprise.
This was a much easier and much safer topic. The ramble that had been cut off earlier came to the forefront now. "Yes, for the past few years they've had me stop in and lecture for their Nonlinear Ordinary Differential Equations class. It's a fascinating topic, honestly. Their course is described as 'Solutions of nonlinear differential equations exhibit a remarkable range of dynamic behavior - from equilibira to chaos. This course will build students' intuition and skills for identifying and analyzing such behavior.' I've also recently spoken in their Introduction to Cryptography. That was a course I found quite interesting to be in and I do hope they ask me back again."
"I'm sure they will." Remy chimed in. "I doubt it's often they get such an experienced person that's so willing to speak."
Spencer smiled at the idea of that while he finished putting the coffee into the filter. Then his smile faded away. Closing the top of the machine, he pressed the button to turn the coffee on and suddenly found himself without anything to do with his hands. He ended up turning and leaning against the counter, folding his arms over his chest and tucking his hands in his armpits. Think of it like any other case. Just describe it like you would if you were giving a statement to Hotch or Strauss. He could do that. He could do this. "Anyways, the list was divided up among us. It equaled out to one apiece for us all, so we each took a local officer with us. There was a chance that these people had just met our victims, or were just friends or associates. But there was a strong chance that one was our Unsub. It didn't take long at the house we were at before I began to suspect Rupert. His obvious dismissal of Evans and I because of our young age and our looks wasn't that surprising; I get that frequently. People often judge by appearance and it's simply something I've gotten used to and learned how to use to my advantage. But his whole behavior was wrong and when we showed pictures of the victims, his reactions showed something else. I was contemplating a way to call for backup without alerting the Unsub that we were onto him when my phone rang. I stepped out to talk to Morgan, letting him know I needed backup. Then I heard two gunshots."
He remembered that blast of terror that had hit him. Guilt sat like a lead weight in his stomach, bringing back the nausea. He had left Evans alone in there, without backup. If he dies, it will be your fault. You never should have left him alone. Spencer pushed that back and stared at the cupboards across from him, fighting back the images that wanted to be there. "When I entered the house, the Unsub was racing out the back door. A quick assessment showed one shot in the wall and Evans on the floor with a GSW. I gave him my sweater and put his hands over it and told him to apply pressure. I knew I had to get to the Unsub before he tried to kill the victim he still held. I followed him out back and into the barn at the back of his property. He used Joe as a human shield and had me drop my weapon. Joe was in pain but he was coherent and he was still strong. I distracted the Unsub, drawing his anger to me so that he pulled the gun away from Joe's head and pointed it my direction. I wanted his attention off the young man. Then Joe threw his head back and broke the Unsub's nose."
Lost in his recitation, he never saw the two flinch when he mentioned deliberately goading him into pointing a weapon at him. Spencer just kept talking. This was the hard part. This was the part he didn't want to talk about. And it was the part he was going to censor, not wanting to say it all in front of Belle. "I didn't have much time or options and I had been inching forward, so I was closer to the Unsub than to my gun. I tackled him to the ground and his gun dropped. We fought until I finally broke free and managed to get the gun and subdue him. Backup arrived and he was cuffed while Joe and I were taken to the hospital."
The room went quite for a long moment. When someone finally spoke, the words had Spencer quickly turning his head to look over at them with surprise. "Belle." Remy said in a firm, steady voice. "I think it's time for you to go home. Now, s'il tu plait."
Even more surprising than Remy's random and slightly rude request was Belle's easy response. "Oui, Remy." She rose from her chair and bent to kiss his cheek before coming over and hugging Spencer and kissing his cheek as well. Then, without another word, she turned and left, leaving Spencer standing there speechless. He looked in the direction she'd left and then back over to Remy. "What was that for?"
Remy rose from his chair, his eyes on Spencer's face. There was something so serious there that it had Spencer unable to move away. He simply stood there as Remy walked over to him. Then the older man was in front of him and Spencer had to tip his head up to look into those beautiful eyes; eyes that seemed darker than normal. Remy brought one hand up to stroke it over Spencer's cheek. "I did that because Belle and I could both see you were holding something back, Spencer. Just like we both knew that you weren't gonna say it with her here. Now, what aren't you telling me?" His hand curved, cupping the side of Spencer's face. "What happened to you, bébé?"
He should've known Remy would realize that he'd left things out. The man wasn't a profiler but he was damn good at reading people around him. Especially Spencer. The more time they spent together, the better Remy seemed to get at it.
Spencer leaned into Remy's hand, his eyes drifting shut. When he reached out to slip his arms around Remy's waist, the older man easily stepped forward and embraced him. He felt Remy's arms come around him and sighed into the embrace, his forehead going to its usual spot against Remy's neck. "I'm so used to dealing with things on my own."
He felt a kiss be pressed to the side of his head. "You're not alone anymore, Spencer. You don't have to deal with things on your own. Haven't you realized that yet?"
"This is so different and new to me. I'm not used to leaning on other people, yet it's so…so easy with you. Ever since they took me to the hospital, this right here has been the only place I've wanted to be, and that desire is so new to me. At one time, I would've simply gone home. Now…now all I could think of was coming to you. I wanted to find you and tell you just how sorry I was for almost ruining everything." That admission seemed so easy to make right here. This topic was still a hard one, yet it was infinitely easier for him than answering Remy's question. And this was something he wanted, needed, to say.
Remy's voice was slightly hoarse with emotion. "Spencer…"
"I'm sorry, Remy." He interrupted. Tightening his arms, Spencer closed his eye and breathed in, trying to calm himself. He wanted to say this now, while he still had the courage and conviction to do it with. He wanted to do it before he lost that courage and was one again consumed by his usual shyness and fears. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was scared to tell my friends, not because I was ashamed of you, but because too many people have become ashamed of me once they know that I like men as well as women. Simply, I was terrified of losing my friends over this." For this part, Spencer pulled back, needing to be able to see Remy's face for it. He needed to see his eyes. He looked up at Remy and was bolstered by the emotion he saw swirling there. "Today, all day long, I couldn't stop thinking about this morning with you, and I realized something. I realized I was far more scared of losing you than of losing anyone else. Losing my friendships with any of the team would hurt, yes. Horribly so. But losing you? The thought was agonizing. I could barely breathe around it. You've become more important to me than anyone else ever has in my life and I don't know what I'd do without you here." One final deep breath and then the most important words of all. "I love you." He gave up everything and opened himself up for so much hurt with those words, yet he trusted Remy with that vulnerable part of him. He trusted the man not to hurt him.
Shock transformed Remy's face only for a moment. Then it was replaced with such a strong joy that Spencer found himself smiling in the face of it. Remy's hands came up, both of them cupping Spencer's face and he was pulled in for a kiss that was full of emotion, making his head spin for entirely different reasons than his concussion. Remy broke their kiss to speak right there against Spencer's lips, the most perfect words Spencer had ever heard. "I love you too, Spencer. Je t'aime aussi.Mon amour, mon cœur." He kissed him again, warm and deep.
Despite the hellish day he'd had, right then and there Spencer knew this was one moment he would always remember, eidetic memory or no. The feel of Remy's arms around him, the emotion that shone so brightly in those beautiful eyes, the faint sheen to them that spoke of tears that weren't quite falling, and the love and heat in his kisses. Spencer thought that nothing had ever felt more perfect or more right.