Title: Open Wounds

Author: spencerremylvr (With some input and clips from cr8zymommy)

Pairings: Scott/Logan and eventual Spencer/Remy

Crossover: X-Men/Criminal Minds (like always!)

Rating: M

Warnings: Okay, gee, let's make this list. SLASH! Angst, hurt/comfort, violence, whump (I love good Reid whump!), rape, past child abuse/rape, just, well, let's just say this story has moments of badness and call it a fair warning.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, nor any of the X-Men. I do not own Criminal Minds, nor any of the characters. I'm not making any money off of this sweetness.

Summary: After being seriously injured by a group of mutant bashers, Spencer's brought back home with his brothers to recuperate. During his recuperation, he'll be forced to face things he never wanted to face, both past and present. But he'll also find something he never thought he could have.

A/N: So, as I've said before, when I wrote "Meet The Team", I wrote a couple possible sequels. One of those is "What Happens in Vegas". That was one possible sequel to MTT. But, there's also this one. It's another story that could be a sequel to MTT. BUT - this story and WHIV are not connected in ANY WAY. Make sense? Okay, I hope so.

This is my soap opera. I'm just going to be blunt on that. I wrote this story forever ago, directly after writing MTT, and it wasn't ever really intended to see the light of day. In here, I indulged my angst and whump side, and I let myself be as mean as I wanted. All those 'hurt Reid' moments, all the 'Evil William' and 'Asshole Christopher', even the usual 'bad Warren' and a Rogue that may seem bad but really, I think she'll end up being better than people think. Just, all the clichés that writers indulge in when they write about Spencer Reid, I let out in here. So yeah, there'll be some moments that may seem OOC, and this may be soap opera like, but it was a blast to write and a part of me really loves it. Cr8zymommy convinced me to share it with all of you and so here it is. I hope you get some enjoyment out of it. Just don't say I didn't warn you ;)

I'll be updating this about 1-2 times a week. I had 90 percent of the story already written and just sitting here, but I have to beta it and then finish it, so that's why you won't get the chapters all at once. That'll give me time to start writing more on it LOL.

It would have surprised many members of the mansion of they had known what two of their residents were doing this afternoon. If it had been given any thought, most would have assumed that Scott Summers was in his office, planning something or another, working in one of the half a million ways he constantly seemed to be doing. The assumption was that he ran, non-stop, like some little machine. He knew what people thought of him. He knew he was looked at as Xavier's golden child, the perfect little prodigal son. On a good day, it amused him. On a bad, it drove him to distraction. Today was definitely a bad day. To that end, he was in his office, but not working as others thought. Though he had been until about fifteen minutes ago. That had been when his current companion had come in, food tray in hand, and somehow, despite Scott's protests, he'd found himself sitting at his desk and sharing a lunch he hadn't thought he'd wanted with the last person anyone might have expected to see with him. Remy 'Gambit' LeBeau.

Most in the house that stopped to wonder where Remy was at mid-afternoon on a weekday would have assumed he'd either be in bed, sulking in a scheduled Danger Room session, or hiding out somewhere to avoid being pulled into chores. It was well known that Remy didn't become extremely social until afternoon started to edge toward evening. Not only was he a night owl by nature, but by necessity as well, his red-on-black eyes sensitive to the light of the day. With sunglasses, though, he was free to roam around in the sunshine with minimal discomfort. That discomfort was worth it to him when it came to helping a friend. And Scott Summers was definitely one of the few in the mansion that Remy could honestly claim was a true friend.

Since Antarctica, things had been different around the mansion. They were better now, yes. Relationships had been carefully mended over time. But they were still different. Tension was there between him and Rogue, right alongside the same love he'd always felt for her. They were back together yet again but Remy privately wondered if it was because he actually loved her, or if it was because he was so terrified of being alone. The others were on speaking terms with him—his relationships with everyone were about what they'd been before—except for Warren. That relationship had only worsened, which was exactly what he expected and no more than he considered his due. But still, out of the whole mansion, he had become closest with Scott and Logan.

And it was because of that closeness that Remy had come bearing a tray of food to Scott's office. It would have surprised others to realize that, in Logan's absence—the man was currently out on a mission and probably wouldn't be back for another day or so—Remy had taken it upon himself to look after Scott. Not everyone realized that Scott was so driven and absorbed by his work that he had a tendency to forget the lesser things in life, such as sleeping and eating. But Remy knew. And he'd quietly promised Logan that he'd look out for his partner while the man was gone. To Remy, his word was gold. He wouldn't ever dream of breaking it.

At the moment, Remy was currently watching Scott as the older man slowly started to relax, some of the tension finally leaving his shoulders. The two were enjoying a nice lunch and a game of cards that Remy was currently winning. Scott picked up a fry and stuck it in his mouth, shaking his head at himself. "I don't know why I bother playing with you." He told Remy.

"Cause I'm de only one dat y' can't beat with y'r eyes closed, mon ami." A curl of the lip and a wink over his shades showed Remy's amusement.

Smiling, Scott shook his head again. "The others won't even play with me half the time anymore."

"How y' supposed to relax from de day when y'r leader's kicking y'r ass at poker?"

That had Scott grimacing. He really, really hated that. "I'm not just a leader. I'm a teammate, too. And a friend."

Remy looked up from his cards to give Scott one of his rare, honest smiles, with no cynicism or mockery attached to it. "Oui, y' are, Scotty. And a bon ami y' are, too." He said sincerely. The mask that usually sat over Remy's face was gone for the moment. In private like this, he let those shields down a little, allowing himself to be simply Remy instead of playing up the Gambit persona. He didn't worry about impressing Scott or Logan, or hiding himself from them, or faking things. At least, not too much. The kid was still so internal with the really personal things, but Scott and Logan were slowly drawing the Cajun out. Though it was never voiced out loud, Scott knew that Logan looked at Remy the same way that he did; like a kid brother to look out for and protect.

The phone on the desk rang, startling the two of them. Without even thinking about it, Scott reached over and pressed the speaker button. "Scott Summers speaking."

Remy smothered a snicker at the professional sound to Scott's voice. Indulging himself, Scott stuck his tongue out. He laid his cards down, grinning at his friend. He knew there was no way that Remy had anything to beat his full house. His grin grew at Remy's scowl. Then, everything seemed to freeze, Scott's grin wiping away as the voice over the speakerphone said "Mr. Summers? My name is Kendra Blake and I'm with St. Joseph's hospital. I have you listed on our paperwork as the emergency contact."

The word hospital was always enough to chill his blood. Scott turned toward the phone, his voice much steadier than he felt inside. A little frisson of fear was coiling in his gut. "Who is it?" He asked calmly. "Who's hurt?"

"Early this morning, SSA Dr. Spencer Reid was brought to our ER. If you could come down, Sir, there is some paperwork to be signed and everything will be explained when you get here."

That frisson of fear exploded, almost consuming him. He didn't even realize that his hands were tightly gripping the arms of his chair. All he could focus on was the phone in front of him. "Is he alive?" he croaked out. That calmness was momentarily gone from his voice.

"Yes, Sir." The woman answered him quickly. That was enough to make his breathing ease, if only slightly. Then she told him "Please, Sir, if you could come down, everything will be explained when you arrive." Oh, God. It was never good if they didn't want to tell you over the phone. That meant it wasn't just a broken bone, or a simple gunshot. Not that gunshot's were simple, but in Spencer's line of work, it was something Scott almost expected. What the hell had happened to Spencer? What was going on? Somehow, he found his voice. "I'll be there shortly."

"Yes, Mr. Summers. I'll alert his team."

The line went dead. For just a beat, all Scott could do was stare. Spencer was in the hospital. Spencer was hurt.

Gentle hands closed over his, warm and real, pulling his attention away from the now silent phone and back to reality. He looked up to find that Remy had risen and was now squatting in front of his chair, holding his hands. "Come on, Scotty." The Cajun said in a soft voice. "Let's get y' to de hospital. I'll drive y' dere."

"I, I need to go." Scott said. "I need to go see Spencer."

"Oui, mon ami. Come on, now. Let Remy take care of y'. I'll get y' dere."

Scott let Remy draw him upright, pulling him from his chair and to his feet. Once he was standing, he knew he should be moving. He knew he should be racing to the car and speeding away to the hospital. But for one moment he stopped, gripping Remy's hands tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Please, let him be ok. Please, let him be okay. He said the prayer over and over. After a few shuddering breaths, he opened his eyes once more, drawing on that control and levelheadedness that made him a leader. "You'll drive me?" He asked Remy. Right now, he didn't trust himself behind a wheel. Calm could only get him so far; he knew he couldn't be behind the wheel of a vehicle at the moment.

Sunglasses pushed up to the top of his head, Remy was watching his face. He nodded. "Told y', I'll drive y'."

Though he drew himself up and stiffened his spine, turning almost cold as he started to make his way out of the office, he indulged himself in one small comfort. One of his hands stayed locked in Remy's. Their fingers twined together and Remy gripped his hand just as tightly as Scott gripped his. It was a silent support, friend to friend. A reminder that he wasn't alone.

Surprisingly, the two encountered no one on their way to the garage. Once there, Remy wasted no time in getting Scott inside one of the cars. Which one, Scott wasn't paying attention to. He just sat inside and buckled himself while Remy went around to the driver's seat. In no time flat they were pulling out and heading down the road. Scott stared down at his lap. He should be doing something. Not just sitting here in the car, waiting to arrive. There should be something he should be doing. But the landscape flew by and he could think of nothing. Finally, after a long period of silence, something came to him. "I should call Alex." He said out loud.

"Got m' phone if y' need it, cher." Remy told him. He was easily navigating the roads at speeds that Scott didn't even care to think about. Anything, to get him there faster.

"No, no. I, I'll wait until I know something. Until I know what's going on."

After a moment of silence, Remy hesitantly asked "Dis Spencer…he's important to y'?"

That had Scott looking up. He realized that Remy hadn't been around in the early years when Spencer had used to visit and that, the few times Spencer had come and visit since Remy had joined them, the Cajun hadn't been around. But still, he couldn't believe no one had mentioned anything to Remy. Usually the man gathered information like it was air; vital to his survival. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Scott voiced those thoughts out loud. "I can't believe you've never been at the school when he's been there. Spencer, he's my youngest brother. He was adopted out when he was just a couple days old to Mom's cousins." Even after all these years, that still made his teeth clench.

True to form, Remy didn't probe at an obviously tender area. Instead, he picked something else entirely. "He's younger dan y' and Havok, but he's a supervisory special agent?"

That had that familiar sense of pride and exasperation rearing its head. "He's the youngest ever to be accepted into the Bureau. But it was what he wanted. He's a profiler in the behavioral analysis unit. They profile and catch serial killers. He's a genius, though he doesn't like the word. I mean, a real genius. He's got an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read twenty thousand words a minute. The little brat graduated high school when he was twelve."

"Bon Dieu. Twelve?"

"Yeah. He's got quite a few degrees under his belt, too. Hell, got the first degree at fourteen. He's got a doctorate in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering. He's also got B.A.'s in psychology and sociology and he just got one in philosophy." The pride was stronger now. "He's a hell of a kid."

"Y' make dem smart in y'r family." Remy teased him. "So, is he quiet like y' about his smarts, or he one of dem stuck up nerds dat looks down on de lesser folks of de world?"

Laughter actually bubbled up and spilled out at that question. Scott rested his head back against the seat and let it out. "Oh, God." He finally said. "The man's a nerd, I'll grant you that much. He can ramble about facts like there's no tomorrow, with you not even being able to understand three quarters of what he says. But I don't think there's a stuck up bone in his whole body. If anything, he's the opposite. He has this tendency to think the worst of himself and he can get painfully shy around people he doesn't know. It takes him a while to warm up to others. But since being in the Bureau, he's getting better. The people there help him."

"Bet y'all get into some interesting debates, yeah? De two of y' must lose people in y'r conversations sometimes."

"Occasionally." That had Scott smiling. He could recall quite a few conversations he'd gotten into with his little brother that had progressed to intellectual debates that had lost the people around them. At least, when it stayed a simple debate. "More often than not, we amuse people. Spence, he's shy around others, but he's not with us. We have a tendency to…argue, in our family." Scott flashed a sharp grin that made Remy chuckle. "We fight, really. He's always fought with Alex and I. Mostly Alex, though. It's our way of saying we love one another." He had to snicker at that. "It drives Logan crazy. He says he doesn't understand how we haven't killed each other yet. Or destroyed the planet."

"He gets along okay with Wolvie, den?"

"Oh yeah. Logan took right to him. Almost everyone does. There's something about Spencer that just, I don't know. You want to look out for him. Maybe it's because he looks so damn innocent, even though I know he's not. He had a rough life with his Mom. Hell, he had a rough life, period. But he still seems so innocent half the time that you just find yourself wanting to protect him. Even when he makes you want to wring his neck, you find yourself ready to kick the ass of anyone else who might try it. And if that brat isn't inspiring people to take care of him, he's bringing out the crazies. He can't just have one normal person in his life. He inspires one extreme or the other in people."

Laughing, Remy raced around a curve. "Y' do realize dat y' just admitted to not being normal dere, Scotty?"

"Could I ever really try to claim normalcy?" Scott fired back.

Remy laughed even more. "Aint dat de truth." He teased. Abruptly he drew Scott's attention to the road again when he said "Dere we are."

Scott stared as they pulled into the parking garage. That had to be the fastest he'd ever made it from the mansion. He started to unbuckle as Remy parked. He paused and watched Remy turn the car off. "Rems?" He said softly. His friend turned quickly to look at him. "Oui, Scotty?"

"Um, thanks. For distracting me and such." He knew that was what Remy had been doing by asking those questions. It hadn't been solely for curiosity, but to keep Scott talking and to distract him from thinking.

The Cajun flashed a bright grin "What're friends f', yeah?"

When they walked into the emergency room, Scott didn't bother with heading to the packed reception desk. He instantly spotted the group of FBI agents waiting over by the chairs and he knew that they'd be his best chance for information. His eyes scanned them, noticing one person missing. Emily wasn't there. Only vaguely did he wonder where she was. The rest of his attention was on moving toward them and finding out what had happened to Spencer. Remy walked silently beside him, not touching, but a steady presence to remind him that he wasn't alone.

Aaron was the first one to notice him. He murmured something to the others and everyone rose right as Scott reached them. "How is he?" Scott didn't waste any time. He stopped by them, looking from one face to the next and feeling his stomach clench. None of them were looking good.

"Why don't you sit down a minute, Scott?" Derek asked him in a gentle voice.

Scott shook his head. "Just tell me how he's doing, Morgan. Don't sugar coat it. How bad is it?" Please, God, let him be okay!

"It's bad." Derek swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Some mutant bashing guy kidnapped him last night from outside the coffee shop."

While Scott seethed and Remy cursed, Morgan waited. Finally it quieted down. Penelope's hand settled in the crook of Derek's arm and he gave her a grateful look before continuing. "He went on a coffee run last night and never came back. Garcia hacked security cameras outside the coffee shop and she got the video feed of him being taken by some big guy. The guy blitzed him, got him in the back of his head. It was enough to knock him out. He kept him mostly drugged, too."

Fear was a solid ball of steel in his stomach now. Jesus. It was bad. It was really bad. "Fuck." Scott hissed under his breath. He looked up at Derek once more. "That's why he didn't use his powers to fight back."

Nodding, Derek made himself keep going. "That's what we figure. The uh, the Unsub, he...he handcuffed him. Reid shows marks on his wrists from the cuffs where they bruised and tore skin. He's got two bruised ribs and two cracked ones. His left shoulder was dislocated, but they got it back in, hopefully without any serious nerve damage. They don't know how long it was out of place. There's bruising around his throat in the shape of handprints." That made Derek pause. He had to clear his throat again to be able to keep going. Scott and Remy both stared in joined horror as Derek continued to list Spencer's injuries. "His appendix was damaged and they had to remove it before it fully ruptured. His right leg was cut on something, we're not sure what, but he has six stitches there. His right ankle was broken, as were both…both his hands."

Remy brought a hand up to rest over his stomach. "Mon Dieu."

"He's a mess of bruises from head to toe and some random cuts. The guy just used hands and feet to…to beat him with. No weapons. He broke Reid's nose, but that was set fine. It left some nasty bruising on his face. He's got a few stitches in his lip, too. There's bruising on one side of his head and they say he may have some, uh, some hearing loss in that ear. They're not sure. He…fuck, Scott, the guy got Reid's knee. The same one he was shot in."

That had color draining from Scott's face. "How bad?"

"Pretty bad." Once more Derek found himself running his hand over his face. It surprised him to see the small tremble in his hand. He brought it down and shoved it in his pocket to try and hide it. "The knee was fractured, but they say that'll heal well. What worries them was the muscle damage above his knee, in his thigh. Some of it was torn and it, it looks like his leg got knocked against something metal. It split the skin open and well, between that and the fracture there ended up with some muscle damage. They've fixed it, but…Scott, they say he probably won't walk right ever again. The doctor said there's no doubt that Spencer will need a cane, most likely for the rest of his life."

It was too much. Scott didn't know if he could take this anymore. He didn't know if he could handle hearing anything else. His eyes closed and he felt Remy's hand settle in the small of his back. For a few moments, all Scott could do was breathe and try to control himself. Try to stop himself from racing out of the hospital and hunting down the bastard that had hurt his baby brother. "Did you get the fucker?" he asked hoarsely.

"We got him." Aaron chimed in with that smooth, calm voice of his.

Good. Though a part of Scott wished they hadn't so that he had a reason to hunt the bastard down and kill him. Beside him, he heard Remy growl out "Jail's too good f' de connard." Then he dissolved into a long stream of French curses that Scott only recognized some of, but could appreciate the sentiment of what he did understand. Scott saw the confusion on the others as they looked at Remy. They'd never met the man before. Right in that moment, Scott didn't care. "Where's his room?"

The girl Scott figured had to be Ashley made a soft sound before saying "Why don't you take a seat and take a minute to calm down, Mr. Summers? You don't want to go in there angry."

"Why don't you shut up?" Scott snapped at her. His hands clenched a little more at his sides. "And don't try to tell me what I want to do. Now, I won't ask again. Where is my brother's room? I need to see him before I speak with the hospital staff about a transfer. I also need to make sure he hasn't managed to blow up the machines they've hooked him up to." The idea just occurred to him as it came out his mouth. He grimaced. "Damn. He hasn't fried anything yet, has he?"

"He just woke up about an hour ago. Prentiss is down with him right now." Derek said. His face looked so haggard; Scott knew he was Spencer's best friend, almost like another brother. This had to be hitting him hard. "So far, so good, it seems. No dead machines yet. Now, come on, I'll take you."

Remy rubbed at Scott's back, murmuring to him "Y' want Remy to stay out here, cher? Can call Logan f' y' if'n y' want."

"Come with me?" Right then, Scott didn't care how he sounded. He needed the support.

"Bien sûr."

Together, the trio set off down the hospital hallway.