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Our Little Family	By : SpencerRemyLvr Category: X-men Comics > Crossovers Views: 2000 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor its characters. I do not own XMen/Marvel or its characters. I am not making money from this writing

Chapter List
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There were people in and out of their room for most of the day. Once Remy came back with the food, Ororo had stayed around to make sure he ate it. No sooner had she finally left than Rouge came to see him, with Jubilee popping in moments after. No one seemed to mind that Spencer spent a good chunk of time with his cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment at having to talk to everyone while in bed. Thankfully, Ororo had helped him get propped up by pillows, so at least he wasn’t lying down. That would’ve been mortifying. What made it worse was that Remy was called out at some point for one reason or another—Spencer hadn’t been able to hear over the chattering of the girls beside him—and then he’d been left alone with no one to run interference between him and the women that seemed to want to smother him with attention. For someone who was used to being independent, who still had problems letting Remy take care of him sometimes, this much attention was not only uncomfortable, but unsettling as well.
He’d been with company for a few hours when salvation finally came. Remy had finished with whatever he’d been called out for and he stood now in their bedroom door, looking around the room and shaking his head before calling out “Oy! Everyone, listen up!”
All eyes turned toward the Cajun. Betsy and Kitty were in chairs beside the bed while Rouge was standing at the foot of it and Jubilee was actually sitting on his bed. Remy looked at them and gave another shake of his head. “Now, I know y’all got de best of intentions, but y’r gonna fluster de po’ homme to death here. Why don’t y’ go on and give him some space f’ a bit, eh? Been a long day and he’s supposed to be resting.”
With promises to visit him later, the girls slowly left the room. When they were finally gone and the door was shut, Spencer gave Remy a look of gratitude. “Thank you.” He said fervently.
Chuckling, Remy strolled toward their bed. “Dey mean well enough.”
“I know they do. I just…”
Remy sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind Spencer's ear. “Y’ just don’t do well with people trying to take care of y’. Je sais, mon cher.”
In the bundle of sensations that was Remy in his mind, Spencer could feel a slight undercurrent. The same love was there, bright and fierce as always. But there was something else, something that had Spencer cocking his head and looking curiously at him, trying to figure it out. Remy stared right back without a word, their eyes locking together. Spencer opened himself up to Remy’s emotions, letting himself feel them, trying to figure out what that little undercurrent was. The act of opening himself up to them made it all a little clearer, though. Love was the strongest emotion. It always was. There was also a protectiveness that Spencer had grown used to feeling from Remy. Next, lightly laced through all this, one emotion that had Spencer cursing himself for not realizing it earlier. Fear. How could he have not seen this before? Of course Remy was afraid. This hadn’t happened to just Spencer; this had happened to Remy too. Guilt ate at Spencer's insides.
Remy’s eyebrows furrowed down as he felt Spencer's guilt. “Cher?”
“Come here.” Spencer patted the bed beside him, watching as Remy quickly pulled his shoes and coat off, setting his shoes by the bed and hanging his coat from the bedpost, and then the Cajun was climbing into the bed right up beside him. They both shifted around, finally ending up on their sides, face to face. One of Remy’s hands automatically went to Spencer's stomach, stroking it lightly through his shirt. Spencer brought a hand up and let his fingers trace over the light stubble on Remy’s cheek. He moved in just enough that their foreheads pressed together. “Hi.” He breathed out softly. A small smile quirked Remy’s lips. “Bonjour.” He whispered back.
“I love you.” He backed the words with a wave of that love, letting it spill over to Remy. Gently, he brushed a kiss over the older man’s lips. “We’re safe, honey. I’m safe and our boys are safe.” He felt the fear in Remy spasm slightly and he pushed more love at him, trying to wrap it around his partner. “I’m safe, honey.” Another kiss, just as gentle, just as sweet. “I’m right here. Can you feel us? Feel your boys under your hand? We’re all right here and we’re going to be okay.”
He felt the little quiver that ran down Remy’s frame and he watched as the eyes he so loved slid closed. There was a tightness that came to Remy’s features that showed the first crack in his control. As much as Spencer hated to see Remy hurting, he knew he needed this. He needed this desperately. Anger, he could work through. He’d most likely end up in the Danger Room with Logan at some point and they’d pound on one another until Remy burnt that anger out. But the fear…that was something that Spencer would have to help him through, or Remy would simply shove it down and ignore it as best as he could. To do that, Spencer opened their link wider, letting everything warm and loving that he felt flow back and forth between them, adding them to the love he was already wrapping around Remy. His fingers went back to stroking Remy’s face, tracing that high cheekbone, over his eyebrow, his jawline, his lips. “It’s okay, honey.” Spencer kept his voice a soft whisper. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay. You don’t have to hold that in, Remy. It’s just you and me in here right now, no one else. Just you and me. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. Don’t hide this from me.”
Another quiver ran through Remy, more like a shudder this time. His hand stopped stroking Spencer's stomach and moved to slip under his shirt, pressing flat against the tight skin. Spencer didn’t say anything about it. He knew Remy needed that skin to skin contact. If it hadn’t been for his belly, Spencer would’ve had Remy cradled close to let the man touch as needed. The touches wouldn’t have been sexual in nature; this was about reassurance. About grounding himself and finding comfort in the contact that let him know they were both alive and well.
Lines appeared around Remy’s closed eyes as he squeezed them a little tighter shut. “Aint never been so terrified in m’ life.” The words came out so hoarse. There was an edge to them that told just how close to breaking he really was. “I woke up and I could hear y’ two and when I peeked, I saw de gun.” Another shudder, stronger this time. “Stopped m’ heart, Spencer. I can’t lose y’. I just, I can’t. Y’ or de boys. Y’r m’ life. M’ other half. De thought of losing y’, of being without y’…” He trailed off, unable to even finish the sentence.
A soft sound slipped from Spencer. He leaned in, kissing Remy’s lips. “I’m right here.” He murmured between kisses. “I’m right here, baby. I love you. I love you.” Spencer shifted just a little, moving just enough that he could draw Remy’s head forward, tucking him in close. Remy moved eagerly to him, his body curling around Spencer's belly, his face burying against the younger man’s chest. One of Spencer's arms was folding under him, Remy’s head on it like a pillow, and Spencer's other hand was stroking Remy’s hair. Here, cradled close to Spencer with no one else around to see, Remy broke down in a way he never allowed himself to around anyone else. Trembles ran through him from head to toe and his breath puffed in and out of him like he was running a marathon. Spencer felt the telltale moisture against his shirt and knew the silent tears were falling. He kept stroking Remy’s hair, holding him close and whispering over and over that he was there and they were okay and reminding Remy that he loved him. That he would always love him. He held him through it all, letting Remy purge out that fear that had been eating at him, knowing he’d be better for it in the end.
As the trembling slowly faded and the tears gradually stopped, neither man moved. Neither wanted to. Together they lay there, clinging to each other, and nothing else mattered for them but one another. They were all each other needed right then. Snuggled together with their boys essentially between them, the two stayed wrapped in each other’s love, needing no more words right then. They only needed each other.

It was hours later when a knock sounded on their door. At first, both men were content to ignore it, wanting nothing more than to stay as they were. They’d drifted a little as they lay there, warm and safe together in their bed. It was kind of like being alone in their own little island of blankets. Lying like this had been the perfect remedy to everything they’d gone through. Though they hadn’t spoken a word, it had done them both wonders. Just being close, touching, feeling the boys moving here and there, letting their emotions just flow openly back and forth…it was perfect. It was a kind of reaffirmation of their love and their bond and it had eased them in ways they had desperately needed.
But whoever was on the other side knocked again, a little firmer this time, and they knew they couldn’t get away with it. Remy was the one to extend his senses enough to tell him who it was. He sighed and tipped his head up, taking one last kiss from Spencer before calling out “Come in!”
The door opened and Spencer watched over Remy’s shoulder as Logan and Scott came walking in. Their body language was what alerted him first; something was wrong. He could see it in the way they carried themselves, in the lines on their faces. One of his hands went protectively toward his stomach even as he was shifting to sit up a little. Remy’s hands were there, helping him get propped up against the pillows. Then Remy settled in beside him and laced their fingers together. They knew something was going on; they could see it. But what, they had no idea. “What is it?” Spencer asked in a voice that was much calmer than what he felt. He looked right at the two men when they stopped by the bedside. “What’s going on?”
“I just got off the phone with Hotch.” Scott began slowly. “He called your office line.”
Aaron? A sick feeling built in Spencer's stomach and he squeezed Remy’s hand a little tighter. “Is everyone okay? Is…is someone hurt?” Please, let them all be okay. Please let them be okay!
Logan quickly sought to reassure him. “The team’s fine, kid. None of them are hurt. It…it’s about your Dad.”
That first moment of relief was quickly blotted out by a new worry. His Dad? Did they have news about what had happened, then? Had the man tried something else? And why would Aaron be calling to tell him something about his Dad? All of those thoughts were bouncing around inside of him and somehow he couldn’t make himself speak them out loud. He didn’t have to, though. Remy’s voice cut into the silence. “Whatever it is, just say it straight out, mes amis. None of this jumping round. Just tell us.”
After a deep breath, Scott nodded. “Hotch was notified because no one had a way to reach you, Spence. William Reid was found murdered in his office a few hours ago. It looks like someone shot him.”
For a long beat, Spencer could only stare at them. His brain didn’t seem to want to process the words that he’d heard. William, shot? Someone had shot him? And he…he was dead? Spencer licked his lips, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. “You’re sure?”
“They are, kid.” Logan said gently. “It looks like he got shot in the chaos of you guys racing outta there.”
He should feel something about this. He really should. He should feel something, right? So why was he curiously blank? Why did he feel nothing? No pain, no anger, no grief. Just, nothing. What did that say about him? What kind of son was he that he couldn’t even summon up grief? The man had been a constant horror in his life, yes, but he had also been his father. Didn’t he deserve at least some kind of grieving from his only son?
One of the boys stretched and Spencer rubbed at his stomach, trying to soothe them down. He looked downwards, looking at his belly, at where his hand was rubbing soothing circles. His eyes felt startlingly dry. So dry they almost burned. Couldn’t he shed a tear? If not for the man himself, then for what should have been? None came. What grief did he owe him? What grief did he owe a man who had only ever brought him pain? Spencer tried to dig through his memory to find a memory, just one single memory with William that was happy. One that didn’t involve yelling, or hitting, or anything painful. One that wasn’t tainted by anger or violence or fear.
Beside him, Remy gestured at the two men to go ahead and go. He could feel Spencer's contemplation and they could all see the way the man had drawn in on himself. Remy waited until their friends left before he turned toward Spencer, snuggling right up against his side. His hand joined Spencer’s, lightly laying over top of it and rubbing in those circles with him, giving him the same contact Spencer had given him just a bit ago.
Spencer watched their hands, noting the differences between the two. The paleness of his compared to the warmth of Remy’s. His, so much more delicate while Remy’s looked more graceful. “I should feel something.” The words slipped out before he realized he was going to say them. “But I don’t. I don’t feel anything, Remy. What does that say about me?”
“It says y’r human. We grieve for dose we know, dose we love and who love us. William, he was never more dan a stranger to y’.”
The words seemed right, yet Spencer still couldn’t shake that feeling. “I keep trying to think of some memory with him, some moment that we were happy. Maybe if I could find one, I might be able to feel something about this. I might be able to grieve him. But I can’t. I can’t find one moment in my life with him that isn’t tainted by something.” And didn’t that just sound pitiful. He sighed out a breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “My brain is telling me that he was horrible to me, but that he’s my father and he deserves some kind of grief. But the rest of me…I can’t summon it up, Rem. I feel the same I would if I heard some stranger died. I’m sorry for the loss of life, but…it’s like you said. He was never more than a stranger to me.”
Remy’s free hand came up, stroking back some of Spencer's hair so he could press a kiss against his temple. “Désolé, mon cœur.”
It was easy to let himself lean a little. To let Remy’s arm slip behind him and to curl up against his love. There, cradled against Remy’s side, he let himself relax a little. His eyes drifted closed. “Would you stay with me for a little while? Like this?”
“Bien sûr.”
Their hands were no longer stroking his stomach, simply resting there. Curled together this way, they simply sat, drawing strength and support from one another. In that, Spencer found just a tiny bit of peace. And he found that tiny bit of grief. Not for the man he had just found out he’d lost, but for the family that should have been. There should have been love like this in his house. There should have been this kind of love right here between his Mom and his Dad. The love he already felt for his boys, his father should have been able to give to him. But he hadn’t. And for that, Spencer could grieve.
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Our Little Family