*Warning – Whump ahead*

Sleep had come for Spencer whether he wanted it to or not. There was no denying his body's exhaustion. It drew him under until he had no real choice. How long he stayed asleep, he had no idea. It felt like one minute his eyes were closing and the room was still semi lit and then the next moment his eyes were opening and it was almost completely dark around him. Just a small sliver of light was coming in underneath the bedroom door. That little light wasn't near enough to light up the room. Spencer had to fight back the urge to whimper. Though he'd gotten better about the dark, it was still enough to scare him. The few times he'd slept without some form of a light had been because Remy was there with him and he held him through the night. It was hard to be scared when wrapped up in a pair of arms that always seemed to make him feel so safe.

The dark seemed to make everything just a little scarier. Not just in the room; inside his head as well. All he could do was lie here and think about what was going to happen to him. What was Paul going to do? Spencer knew he could play into the man's delusions, do what he had to do to stay alive long enough for the team to find him or for escape to become possible. But there was always a chance that he would say or do something that would set Paul off. The man definitely wasn't stable right now. As he'd shown back at the house, it wouldn't take much to set off his temper. If Spencer wasn't careful, things could get very bad, very fast. Bad enough and it could shatter Paul's delusions entirely. The minute that happened, his time would be limited.

Spencer tugged at his bonds, not even hearing the soft whimper that finally broke free. His body felt like it'd been through the wringer. Nonetheless, he tugged and twisted his hands, trying to find any weakness in the rope. Being in the dark made it even more difficult. He couldn't look up and see what he was doing. All he could rely on was his sense of touch. To focus that even more, he closed his eyes. With them open he kept straining them in the effort to see.

Feeling his ropes wasn't easy. They were well tied around his wrists and kept on a short leash that left him little to no room to move. First things first, he scooted himself up the bed a little, bringing his hands more towards the head. That would give him just a little more slack in his leash. He paused, listening to make sure that there were no sounds to be heard outside his room. When he heard nothing, he kept moving. Though it had his aching body screaming bloody murder at him, Spencer locked his jaw and made himself move, twisting from his back to his side and then from his side to his knees. Another short pause let him listen and assured him that no one was coming. At least, not yet.

The first thing Spencer did was try and feel around his wrists. Since they were hooked together and his hands couldn't bend down, he had to be creative. He bent down and used his lips and cheek to feel over the rope, hoping to find a knot. If he found a knot then maybe he could use his teeth to pick it free. He let out a frustrated groan when he found that there was nothing for him to reach. The restraint had been well tied. It circled both wrists in multiple layers and was looped around and through in the middle until the ends came out to make the leash. It was like a restraint straight out of some bondage movie or something. Spencer only gave himself a moment to hang his head in frustration. Then he gathered himself back together again. No time to waste on sulking. He needed to act, now, while he was still alone.

He shifted and moved his body further up the bed, trying to get as close to the head of the bed as possible. He had to turn sideways to do it, pressing his left side up against the headboard. Once he was there, he took a bracing breath and shoved the aches to the back of his mind, trying so hard not to focus on them as he bent over. The bruises on his stomach made this an experience in pain that he never again wanted to repeat. It was made worse by the spinning and throbbing in his head from the multiple blows he'd taken. No, no, don't focus on that. Focus on this. This is important! Just find a way to get out of here and worry about anything else later! That reminder had him gritting his teeth and bending even more. He slipped his hands down between the mattress and the headboard. The leash was down here somewhere, tied off to something under the bed, he assumed. If he could just reach it, then he could maybe untie it and get his hands free.

Spencer twisted and wiggled and did everything he could to get his hands down and under the mattress. After a few minutes, he finally got his hands down low enough. He followed the length of the leash and found that it just went straight down to the slats under the box spring and was tied off there. When he found the knot, he almost sobbed in relief. Immediately he set about trying to untie it.

He'd only started to loosen it just the slightest bit when he heard footsteps out in the hallway. Never before had Spencer moved so fast. He yanked his hands out and almost threw himself down in an effort to lie back before Paul got there. The last thing he needed was for the man to find him picking at the knots.

He got himself lying down, and not a second too soon. Just as he flopped onto his back, the door to the room opened and he had to throw his head to the side and slam his eyes shut against the blinding light. He heard footsteps make their way over to the bed. They stopped and there was suddenly a hand on his face, smoothing back his hair. He couldn't help how he flinched back from it. Everything in him wanted to recoil from that touch. Only by sheer will did he keep from telling Paul to get the hell away from him.

But his recoil hadn't gone unnoticed. Without warning, pain snapped across his cheek from a hard backhand. "I see you're still fighting this. Fighting me." Paul growled out at him.

The tone to his voice had Spencer wanted to shudder. Oh, God. Paul sounded furious. This wasn't the calm, caring man from earlier. This wasn't the man that wanted to reconcile their relationship and take care of him. This was the part of him that was so very, very angry. Spencer licked his lips, tasting blood from where the slap had split his lip open, and his brain scrambled to try and think of how to defuse the situation. "I-I'm sorry." He stammered out. "I just, it's dark and I, I didn't know…"

Another slap cut his words off quickly. "Shut up!"

When Spencer finally managed to blink his eyes open, he almost wished he hadn't. Paul was standing at the side of the bed and the light from the open door very clearly showed as he unhooked his belt and started to slide it from the loops. "You're going to learn." Paul was telling him. He pulled the belt free and grasped the buckle before looping the rest around his hand twice. "I've got to punish you for leaving. You've got to learn, one way or another, Spencer."

Horror gripped Spencer's insides. He clenched his hands uselessly above him. "I won't run again, Paul. I swear I won't. Why would I? I need you." The words almost stuck in his throat but he forced them out. Play into his delusion! "I need you to take care of me."

The light in Paul's eyes grew just a little brighter. "I will take care of you, baby. Always. But you need to be punished first. You know you do. You ran away from me. I told you, didn't I? I told you I'd have to punish you. Now, roll over."

"Paul, please…!"

"Roll over, or I'll just use this side. I'm trying to be nice, Spencer. Don't make me regret it."

The earlier nausea was back with a vengeance. Spencer looked up at Paul's face and he knew the man meant every inch of that threat. If Spencer didn't roll over, then he'd start striking on his front side. While the last thing Spencer wanted was to do anything to encourage what was about to happen, he was practical enough to know that he stood a much better chance of being okay if it was his back and not his front that was hit. Still, it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, forcing his body to roll over. He couldn't stop one last plea from slipping free. "Please, Paul. I'm sorry."

There was a shuffling sound and Spencer heard the man move closer. "You will be." Paul said.

It was the last thing Spencer heard before the belt made its first of many strikes.

The pain seemed to go on forever. From the top of his shoulders down to the back of his knees, he hurt like nothing he'd ever felt before. His resolve not to cry hadn't lasted anywhere near as long as he'd hoped. His cheeks were streaked in tears now and the bedding under his face was soaked. He was still sobbing lightly when Paul brought a tissue up to his face and gently dabbed at his cheeks. Then the tissue was held up to his nose. "Blow, honey." Paul said gently. Spencer blew, letting the man wipe his nose like a child.

Paul disappeared again, heading out of the room but leaving the door open, only to be back just a few moments later. He brought with him a pillow that he slipped down underneath Spencer's head. He also had a wet cloth that he used to wipe down the few spots where the belt had actually broken skin. For every whimper, every soft cry that Spencer gave, Paul made soft, soothing sounds, murmuring in a gentle voice almost the entire time. "There, there, Spencer. Shh. I'm just cleaning you up. There you go, that's it. You're fine, shh, shh, you're fine. It's going to be okay now. You did so good. We're all done now, Spencer. Now we can start over again. You'll be okay. I'm going to take care of you now. I'll always take care of you."

Somehow Spencer found the strength to think beyond the pain. He forced himself to focus on doing what he knew he had to do. He needed to play his part and keep Paul calm and get him to trust him. It was his best shot at getting free. If he could get Paul to trust him, then the man would slip up somewhere, and Spencer could exploit that. He could get free. Then…then he could go home and go to Remy and never, ever have to think about this, ever again. Keeping all that firmly in mind, he made himself stammer out "T-Thank you f-for taking care of m-me."

"Of course! I'll always take care of you, Spencer. Always." The cloth left Spencer's back and the bed shifted as Paul rose to his feet. "You just rest for a bit while I go take care of some things. I'll come back when you've had a few hours to sleep. Then we can finally get out of here and go start our lives together, the way They're meant to be."

"T-Thank you."

Even after Paul left the room, after turning on a light lamp off in the corner, Spencer lay perfectly still for a while. He gave his body time to rest and he was listening carefully at the same time to make sure that Paul wasn't going to come back. He'd said a few hours. Maybe he really meant it. Spencer could only hope so. Maybe, just maybe, that would be enough time. Before Paul had come in before, Spencer had been tugging on that knot. A few hours should be plenty enough time for him to get back up there and get that knot free. If he could do that, if he could get his hands free, then he could get out of here. No matter what it took.

A little bit passed before Spencer found the strength to drag himself upwards once more. Every inch of him was screaming at the movements he was putting himself through. He wanted so badly to simply curl up on the bed and let free the sobs that were clenched tight in his throat. But he made himself keep going. He focused on his goal and he kept moving, shifting higher and higher until he was once more at the head of the bed. Then, biting his lip to keep the sound inside, he was slipping his hands down between the top of the mattress and the headboard once more. All the while, he kept his goals in mind, thinking on what would be waiting for him when he got out of here. Thinking of Remy. As he fought to reach the knot once more and to start to make his half-numb fingers work to untie it, he thought of all the things he and Remy could do when this was over. He thought about lying in that great big bed and being tended by someone that really did care about him. For once, he wouldn't even fight it. He'd just let Remy pamper him for a little while. It would make the both of them feel better.

He thought about that bright smile and the love that shone from those beautiful eyes. He drew up memories of that sexy accent and the way it would thicken with the stronger emotions. He let himself feel the ghost echoes of Remy's hands running over him, imagining that he was here now, soothing him and encouraging him.

When suddenly the knot finally slipped free, Spencer almost didn't realize it. He'd been making his fingers move for so long that the motion had become sort of automatic. It was only when his fingers scraped against the wood of the baseboard that he realized he'd done it. For a second he just knelt there in shock. Then some sound inside the house, sounding far from his little room, had him scrambling back into motion. He pulled his hands up quickly and brought the excess rope up with them. He'd done it! Oh, man, he'd done it!

Now was just a matter of getting the rest of it undone. He bent down, using his teeth to pick up the rope and bring it towards him, trying to get to the end. The rope was wrapped multiple times in between his wrists and then, under that, around his wrists. It was going to take time to get that undone.

A sound alerted him that he wasn't going to have the time he thought. It sounded like someone was starting down the hallway. Spencer's eyes went wide and he stared down at his hands. Then his eyes lifted and his mind raced to figure out something. Anything. He couldn't let Paul come in here now!

Countless scenarios built and were dismissed in Spencer's mind. Then he focused on one object in the room and another plan built. It was the only one that had any small chance of working. Wasting no more time, Spencer practically threw his aching body out of bed, ignoring the pain as he did so. The footsteps in the hall were getting closer. He raced across the room and quickly grabbed the cord to the lamp, yanking it out of the plug. In the dark room, he fumbled for the lamp, finding it quickly. He yanked the lampshade off and grabbed at the stem, right below the bulb. It was his only weapon in this empty room and he was not afraid to wield it. Determination was filling him from head to toe. He would not go down without a fight and he would not hesitate. Hesitation could get him killed right now. He hefted the lamp up against his shoulder and waited as the doorknob turned and the door slid open. Then, with everything he had in him, he swung.

The lamp connected with a solid thud and shattered. The blow sent Paul flying backwards and almost toppled Spencer as well. He just barely managed to recover and keep his feet. As soon as he did, he dropped what was left of the lamp and shot out the door. Paul was down but he wasn't out. Spencer had to move fast!

He'd made it to the end of the hall before he heard Paul start to get up. A panicked sound erupted from Spencer and he tried to move faster. He tugged at his hands the whole time, trying to twist and loosen the rope, to get it off before Paul got close. If he was still bound when Paul caught up to him, his chances of surviving this were even less. But he wasn't that lucky. The rope was barely starting to loosen and Spencer hadn't even made it to the living room yet when Paul caught him in a flying tackle. The two of them hit the ground with a thud. Spencer couldn't stop the pained scream that tore free.

Instinct had him kicking out and bucking his body, no matter the pain. Hands on his hips worked to flip him over and Spencer rolled with it, swinging his still bound hands like a club right into the side of Paul's head. The blow sent the man off to the side and stunned him long enough for Spencer to scramble up and try to move again. He'd barely lunged forward when a hand clamped down on his ankle and yanked him flat once more. "You son of a bitch!" Paul snarled.

"Let! Go! Of! Me!" Spencer shouted. He kicked his feet out with each shout. One of his blows caught Paul right in the face and the man let go of him to grab his nose, cursing loudly.

Spencer shoved at the ground with his arms and pushed up to his knees, then his feet. Terror spurred him forward. He could barely tell where he was going, the fall to the floor having stunned, but when he stumbled forward he recognized the hard surface he stumbled into. A kitchen counter. They'd managed to get to the kitchen. Behind him, Spencer heard Paul climb to his feet, and he tried to move, tried to hurry, but the damn leash part of the rope was dangling behind him and Paul snagged it, giving it a tug that brought Spencer flying back across the small space and slamming into the other kitchen counter. He cried out painfully, trying to grab at something, anything. Paul was coming towards him and there was fury on his face like nothing Spencer had seen before. In that look, he saw his death.

"You little bastard." Paul yanked on the leash again, knocking him to the ground. "I would've given you everything!" He pulled up, forcing Spencer to his feet, and then he snapped out with a fist, the force of his blow sending Spencer into the counter once more. "We would've been happy!"

Spencer's hands closed over something on the counter and he curled his fingers around it, not thinking, just reacting. Right as Paul stepped up to him, the man tugged on the leash and Spencer swung his hands with the movement, bringing up the cast iron that had been sitting at the stove. He swung with everything he had and brought that pan right against the side of Paul's head. There was the sound of a loud, sickening crack and Spencer watched in horror as Paul dropped to the ground like a ton of bricks. With his hands still clenched in the leash, Paul's fall brought Spencer down with him, sending the young genius down right on top of him. He wasn't ready for it and he fell hard, his body sprawling over the man and his head hitting the ground on the other side, bouncing off. That was the last thing Spencer remembered before everything went dark.

The sound of beeping was what woke Spencer. That was a sound that he was far too familiar to waking up to. He knew exactly where he was before he'd even managed to think about opening his eyes. A hospital. He was in a hospital. But…the last thing he remembered was, was that kitchen, and Paul…that blow to the head and then falling with him, hitting the ground. How had he ended up here? Had his team found him? For a moment, he didn't care. He didn't care who had found him or how. All he cared about was that they had. He blinked his eyes open and could've sobbed in relief when he saw that it was real. He really was in a hospital room!

Everything felt sort of dull and muted. Spencer recognized the sensation of painkillers in his system. At the moment, he could only be grateful. He knew he'd be in a hell of a lot of pain when they wore off.

Something must've drawn attention to him because he heard movement at his side suddenly. There was a brief pause and then a hand touched his arm. Even as Spencer twitched, instinctively pulling back, his eyes shot over and he saw who the hand belonged to and everything in him softened. "Spencer?" Remy's voice was pitched low and careful and there was no denying the worry there. "Oh, merci Dieu, you're awake."

That voice was the single most beautiful thing Spencer had ever heard. A soft sigh ran down his body and the tension that had been with him since he'd woken up and seen Paul now drained out of him. "Remy." His voice was soft, just a scratchy whisper, but it carried a wealth of love to it.

Remy lifted a shaky hand and brushed some of Spencer's hair back from his face. His eyes were lit up with so much love it warmed Spencer's heart. "Oui, cher, it's me. I'm here."

"H…How?"

Thankfully, Remy understood his question. "A neighbor called in strange sounds. The local police showed up and found you two. They rushed you in here and called your team once they realized who you were." His hand kept up its gentle stroking, fingers running softly through his hair. It was so soft, so soothing. The touch that he'd been wishing for so badly through this whole ordeal.

There were countless other questions that Spencer wanted to ask. So many things he wanted to know. But his exhaustion and the medication were combining to draw him back under once more. His eyes drifted shut against his will. Ever so softly, he heard Remy's soothing murmur, lulling him down. "Rest, mon amour. You rest now. You're safe. I'm watching over you, so you just rest."

With that angel's voice in his ear, Spencer smiled as he drifted off to sleep.