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Our Little Family

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There was no way it was true. Absolutely no way. Spencer sat on the edge of the exam table and stared at Dr. Hank McCoy, unable to fully process what it was he had been told. How was it possible? They had been so careful! “Are…are you sure? I mean, we…we’re careful, Hank. We’re always careful!” The words were just barely croaked out past the lump that was sitting in his throat. This couldn’t be happening, not right now! With the lives they lived, this was just too dangerous. It was horrible timing! Hank’s tests had to be wrong. They just had to.

Yet even as he had the thought, Spencer Reid stared at the man he called friend and knew that Hank’s tests weren’t wrong. The man would not be wrong about something like this. He knew more about this genetic problem than any other doctor that Spencer knew. It was why Spencer saw him for this ‘condition’. That, and the other doctors that treated those with a condition like Spencer had, they didn’t generally treat those that were also mutants. And in a medical setting, there was no denying that SSA Dr. Spencer Reid was a mutant.

It was there in his pure white eyes and the way that they glowed and flashed when he used his abilities. It was there in the way that his skin would start to glow when he gathered the electricity that he could call on, creating it from thin air, drawing it from things around him, manipulating it to do so many different things. The empathy was easier to hide, but he’d never been able to fully hide his eyes. The contacts he wore at work were a good fix for that environment—they wouldn’t pass inspection with a medical professional.

Spencer brought his hands up to wipe over his face. What had he done to have this curse in life? To not have one type of mutation, but another as well. He wasn’t just one kind of freak. Oh, no, not him. He had to hit freaky on every level possible! Not just a mutant, but he had to also be one of the random twelve percent of men in the United States that suffered from the genetic condition that gave them a woman’s reproductive organs on top of their own organs. One of the twelve percent of men in the world that could get pregnant. He had known about this condition for a long time now and he had always been up front with any male partner he’d had – including the man he was with now, the man he loved more than anyone in his life. The man he could finally see himself spending the rest of his life with. They knew this was a possibility and they had always been cautious, taking all the proper precautions so that this wouldn’t happen. Yet here Spencer found himself, sitting on a table in Hank’s lab, his friend telling him that apparently they hadn’t been careful enough.

Reaching out, Hank rested a hand on Spencer’s shoulder in a soothing way. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I checked and double checked. Judging by your levels, I’d say you became pregnant sometime toward the end of June or beginning of July. As soon as we do the ultrasound, I’ll be able to better date this. Would you like to go ahead and do this now?”

Spencer licked his dry lips and nodded his head. “Please.”

In a surprisingly short time, Hank had him in one of his private rooms, the door locked and the ultrasound machine ready beside the bed. Spencer laid back on the bed, pants undone and pulled down while his shirt was pulled up so that Hank could run the sensor over his swollen stomach. God! He and Remy had both just assumed Spencer was finally putting on a little weight and muscle tone from the exercise program Remy had put him on. Tired of being so scrawny, Spencer had been letting Remy help him change his diet and workout routine. The man had got together with Morgan so that Spencer had someone to help him stay on track whether he was here or back home. How stupid they’d been!

He couldn’t take his eyes off the machine. Even knowing what he would see, knowing that the test had already confirmed his pregnancy, it was still a shock to see it brought to life on the screen. Yet apparently whatever Gods there were had decided that this wasn’t enough of a shock on its own. No, they had to throw him one final curve ball. Eyes going wide, Spencer stared at the monitor. “Shit!”

“Oh my word.” Hank breathed out. He turned to look at Spencer, a broad grin slipping over his face. “Congratulations, Spencer. You are officially seven weeks pregnant…with twins.”

The math was automatic. Mentally Spencer calculated backwards, trying to think of when they had conceived. What he came up with had him freezing even more. Then, all shock wiped away on temper. He remembered. The fourth of July party – Remy had come to see him and they’d gone out with the team. All of them had drank that night. And, at the end of it, they had been so wasted they’d caught a cab back to Spencer’s apartment. For the life of him, Spencer couldn’t remember if they’d used protection. Remy had tried to reassure him that they most likely had. Habit, he’d claimed. Now, Spencer knew for a fact they hadn’t. The math was perfect.

Abruptly he rolled away from Hank’s sensor, grabbing a tissue and wiping at the gel on his stomach. Furious, he threw the tissue into the garbage and did up his pants even as he moved toward the door. He had a Cajun to find and, when he did, he was going to kill him! Ignoring Hank’s calls, Spencer yanked his shirt down and took off from the lab to find his lover.


It took no time at all for Spencer to seek out his lover’s mind and find where he was located. The link they shared through their empathy allowed him to easily find him while they were this close. With Hank still following somewhere behind him—he was a ways back since Spencer had reached the elevator first and Hank had then had to wait for it to come back down for him—Spencer marched out the back door of the mansion and into the backyard. His eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses when he saw his love at the water’s edge with Logan, Scott, Bobby and Kurt. What they were doing, Spencer didn’t know and didn’t care. He had only one thing in mind.

Clenching his hands to try and keep his temper in check, Spencer shouted out “Remy Etienne LeBeau!” He had the satisfaction of seeing his lover jump and spin around even as he was instinctively ducking his head down and bracing his body. The look on Remy’s face was wary despite the smile that spread at the sight of Spencer. “Cher! Bonjour!”

A snarl slipped out at the same time that Spencer called just a small bolt of lightning and let it snap into the ground in front of Remy’s feet. It was satisfying to watch Remy jump backwards in response. “Don’t you ‘Cher’ me, you Cajun menace!” Behind him, he heard Hank call his name. That wasn’t important. All he could focus on was Remy. When it looked like Bobby and Kurt were going to step between him and Remy, he held a hand out, the threat obvious. Remy stepped quickly forward while Logan and Scott pulled the two out of the way. Those two knew better than to step between one of Remy and Spencer’s fights. That was never a smart place to be.

“Now, cher, let’s talk about dis, yeah?” Remy held his hands out on either side in a gesture of peace, taking a few steps towards Spencer. “Whatever’s going on, I’m sure it aint all dat bad.”

“Not that bad?” Fury kicked up a notch. Right as he reached his lover, Spencer balled his hand into a fist and threw a punch that he knew Remy was fast enough to dodge. Sure enough, Remy moved, easily stepping around the punch. Quick as a flash he moved in, slipping his arms around Spencer’s waist to pull him close and hold him there. Spencer brought his hands to Remy’s shoulders to try and shove at him. “Let me go! Don’t you touch me right now!”

Remy just moved his hands up to cup Spencer’s face. His brows furrowed down as he read the emotions that were boiling inside of Spencer. “Spencer, cher, what is it? Talk to me, mon cœur. Que va pas?”

“What’s wrong? You want to ask me what’s wrong?” Spencer snapped at him. He tried to push him away again, but Remy stayed right there, holding his face in such a gentle way that it was threatening to break through Spencer’s temper. When Remy let go of his face to wrap those arms around him, pinning him against him, Spencer pushed at him, but Remy’s grip was tight. He held Spencer there not just with his arms, but with his love, using his empathy to wrap that around him as well. It was too much to stay furious underneath that. On a shuddered breath, Spencer stopped struggling, his arms slipping up to wrap around Remy’s neck as he hid his face in the curve of his neck and shoulder.

Now that Spencer wasn’t fighting him, Remy brought one hand to Spencer’s hair, cupping the back of his head. “Can feel how scared y’ are, Spencer. What’s going on? Y’r worrying me here. Talk to me. Tell me what it is and I’ll help y’, I will. Just tell me, cher.”

A tremble ran down Spencer’s body. He didn’t even lift his head to answer him. “Do you remember when you came to see me on the fourth of July?”


“We got so drunk together and we took a cab back home that night, remember?”

He felt Remy turn, kissing the side of his head, smiling against his hair. “Oui, cher. We barely made it in de front door…” Remy’s words trailed off and his body tensed. For one long moment, Remy stayed frozen. Shock radiated from him. Spencer felt it and knew that Remy was realizing what Spencer was getting at and what it meant. After a minute, he finally spoke again. “Spencer, are y’ saying what I t’ink y’ are?”

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, clinging even tighter. “I just got done talking with Hank. I’m not sick.” His voice cracked ever so slightly. "I'm seven weeks pregnant, Remy. With twins.”

Dieu! Jumeaux?” Remy’s shock was easy to hear. Then, to Spencer’s utter surprise, Remy’s shock was replaced with joy. His arms wrapped tight around Spencer’s waist and he spun him in a circle, letting out a jubilant laugh. When he set him back on his feet, he brought his hands up to frame his face, kissing him long and hard. By the time they broke apart, Spencer couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling the infectious joy in his love. Remy stroked his thumbs over Spencer’s cheeks. “So dat’s why y’ve been feeling sick den? And why y’r so tired?”

“Most likely. He found nothing else wrong with me.”

Those problems had been the whole reason that Spencer was here. He’d been feeling sick for about a week now, always tired and unable to keep food down, and his boss—Aaron Hotchner—had finally had enough. He and Morgan had conspired against Spencer, filling out a time off request for him and getting him two weeks medical leave without him ever knowing they were doing it. Then they’d called Remy and explained to him that Spencer was sick and they couldn’t get him to take time off and they all knew better than to send Spencer to a regular doctor. He refused to see any doctor anymore but Hank. Remy had agreed to come get him and take him home and care for him. And he had. He’d shown up at Spencer’s apartment the next morning, explaining everything while packing his bags and, despite Spencer’s protests, he took him home with him right then.

Now that he let himself think about it, the diagnosis really did make sense. He was surprised he’d blinded himself so much so that he hadn’t seen it on his own.

“Ahem.” The sound of Hank clearing his throat drew their eyes away from one another and over to him. The man stood there, a bemused smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest. “If you two have had your moment, I must insist that you follow me back to the mansion, young Reid. We were not done discussing your care.”

Spencer felt his cheeks heat a little bit. “Sorry, Hank.” He apologized in embarrassment. Beside him, Remy laughed. He slid his arm around Spencer’s waist so that they stood side by side. Leaning in, he kissed the side of Spencer’s head. “Did y’ get so mad at po’ Remy dat y’ ran off on M. Bete, cher?”

“Not really you, so to speak. I was mad at the both of us but it was easier to take it out on you.”

That just made Remy laugh again. He was the first person in Spencer’s life that not only didn’t mind if Spencer got mad, but actually encouraged it. He hated when Spencer wouldn’t fight back with him. Remy had been known to tell people “Rather he take a swing at Remy dan ignore him. Can’t stand being ignored, me. What’s de point in covering up what y’ feel when y’r with an empath, non? Dey gonna know anyways. Might as well let it out.” And so, with Remy, Spencer had learned to let out what he felt instead of bottling it up inside.

Keeping Spencer tucked close, Remy grinned broadly. “Allons-y, alors.”

Together, with a grinning Hank leading the way, the couple left behind their confused friends and headed into the mansion.


Around an hour later, Spencer was slowly sinking down onto his and Remy’s bed in the boathouse, his mind spinning with all the new information he’d been given. He felt the dip in the bed as his lover sat down with him. Remy’s hands reached out, closing over his and simply holding on. He granted Spencer the respect of a few moments of simple silence so that he could gather himself. Eventually, he did speak, though. In a voice soft and slightly careful, Remy asked him “Spencer. I need to know if dis is something y’ want. I know dis wasn’t what we planned. Are y’ happy about it at all?”

The carefully worded question was enough to grab Spencer’s full attention. He turned his wide eyes to look at the man he loved. Did Remy think that he didn’t want these babies? That he didn’t want this pregnancy? “Oh, Remy.” The shock he’d settled in seemed to wash away on a wave of love. This time it was Spencer who leaned in and cupped Remy’s face, kissing him lovingly. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I don’t want these babies. Any child that we create together I will always look on as a blessing and a joy. Please, don’t think I’m not happy about them, Remy. I just…I’m scared, that’s all.” With anyone else he wouldn’t have been able to admit that. But there was no one else that he would have been in this position with.

Worry that Spencer just now noticed in Remy was draining away under Spencer’s words. The Cajun brought his hands up to rest over Spencer’s, turning his head to kiss Spencer’s palm. “Je t’aime, allée chat.” He murmured. The nickname made Spencer smile, just as it always did. Allée chat translated to ‘alley cat’. He joked that it suited Spencer better than calling him ‘kitten’. Still smiling, he shook his head “I love you too, street rat.” He teased.

“Let’s look at what M. Bete gave us.” Remy picked up the papers that he had set down on the bed when they came in and held them out, pushing back until he was reclined on the pillows against the headboard. After looking for a moment, Spencer bent and started to untie his shoes. He stifled a yawn. “I know most of the information in there, Rems. I don’t need to read it again.”

“Most, but not all, cher. I aint taking no risks with y’ on dis.”

“The whole thing is a risk, you know that.” After setting both his shoes down, Spencer stretched his body out on the bed, yawning again as he laid his head in Remy’s lap. Immediately the older man shifted the papers to one hand and brought the other down to stroke through Spencer’s hair. He sighed and set the papers down. “Know dat it’s a risk, me. Y’r gonna probably get sick of me being overprotective f’ de next little while, cher.”

Spencer chuckled and closed his eyes. “Probably. But I know you’ll be doing it out of love, so I think I’ll manage to cope. Most of the time.”

“Dat mean y’r not gonna argue with me when I make y’ take y’r vitamins and eat proper meals?”

Pausing, Spencer pretended to think about it. “The vitamins, no. The meals…will be dependent on what it is you’re trying to feed me and how I feel at the time.”

He could hear Remy’s softly smothered laugh. “Fair enough, cher.” He paused for a second and then asked, “What’re y’ gonna do?”

The question had Spencer’s eyes opening back up. There was no need to ask what it was Remy was referring to; he already knew. It was the same thing that Spencer had been thinking about in the back of his mind ever since he’d gotten the news. A topic he’d thought about plenty of times since he’d committed in a serious relationship and accepted the possibility that this could happen one day in his future. Because of all that, he already knew what his answer would be—knew there could be no other answer. “I’m going to quit.”

The ease with which he answered stunned Remy. His hand froze in mid stroke over Spencer’s hair. “Quoi? Are y’ sure, Spencer?”

“It’s the most logical thing to do.” Spencer said the words as if they didn’t hurt. “You know what would happen if I told them that I needed time off. They’d ask me why and I’d be obligated to tell them. Then, they would find a way to fire me. If I go in prepared, I can probably manage to wrangle them into giving me early retirement. I’ve put in some good years at the Bureau and this way they could be able to ask me for consults occasionally, which I’d like.”

“Dey can’t fire y’ f’ dis, cher. Dat’s discrimination. I got good lawyers, me.”

That made Spencer chuckle slightly. He tipped his head enough to press a kiss to Remy’s jean clad thigh. “No, no lawyers. No fighting it. Yes, I’m going to miss the job. Yes, I’ll miss doing this. But at the same time, I’m getting so much in return. I won’t have to hide who I am anymore, Rem. I won’t have to wear special contacts to hide my eyes. I’ll be able to be with you full time like we both want and our children will be raised in a home with two parents. I love you, Remy. How can it be anything but wonderful to be able to be with you full time?”

A pleased little hum came from Remy that had Spencer smiling. Though his lover would never admit it, Spencer swore that sound was a purr. “Y’ know dat de X-Men could use y’ too. Even if it’s just working in de lab some with Henri. It won’t be like y’ won’t have t’ings to do round here.”

“I know. I wouldn’t agree to it, otherwise. I’m not very good at being useless, in case you haven’t realized.” Once again he let his eyes close, soothed by the stroke of Remy’s hands in his hair. “It’s better to take care of this now so that I can get settled in early on. I should probably head back sooner than we’d planned and get started on things. I need to tell the team and take care of work.”

Remy hummed agreeably. “What about y’r t’ings? Dis does mean y’r finally giving in to m’ begging and moving in with me, pas vrai?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Remy had first asked him to move in with him six months ago, on their one year anniversary. “Yes, it does. I’ll start the process of boxing up things and prepping them to move while I’m there. And, don’t worry, I’ll get the team to help.” He tacked on before Remy could lodge any protests about him lifting things.

D’accord. I’ll get Logan to come help me move y’ come time. I imagine y’ aint gonna let Remy come with y’ tomorrow an help y’ with all dis?”

“No, I’m not going to let Remy come with me.” The teasing reply earned Spencer a yank on his hair that made him snicker. He didn’t even bother opening his eyes. “I can handle it, Remy. I’m early on yet. Each baby is roughly the length of two grains of rice right now.” Each baby. Those words struck a chord inside of Spencer that brought a soft little smile to his lips. Babies. He was going to have two babies. Little versions of him and Remy. He felt the first deep stirring of joy in his heart at that thought. “We’re going to have babies, Remy. Two little babies.”

Oui, allée chat.” Remy’s voice was thick. “Dat we are.”