(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)

Thanks to damthing, teenwolfsupernatural24, Jesuslover123, TheWeirdPersonNextDoor, chele the original, Caroliny Hotchner, Namira, Ash59, Yeegaber, fishtrek, lilyflower101, daiseyangel, and lenika08 for reviewing the last chapter.

I'm sort of making this story as I go along, it's fun, I have some what of a plan so don't worry, things are organised... ish.

Sorry for the delay. I worked all day Friday and Saturday and I suddenly remembered this wasn't finished. Let's hope I got this done and you're reading on Sunday.

Anyway, please review. Stay safe and enjoy.

Spencer saw the phone when he woke up.

He was still lying on his back but his hands had been untied and his mouth ungagged. It didn't seem to matter if he was restrained anymore. He could barely move his head let alone get up out of the bed and attempt some great escape.

His throat was painfully sore and his voice was weak, screaming would only cause more discomfort.

His head felt thick lately, his ears blocked, as if something was wrapped around his head.

Spencer wanted nothing more than to lay still. The pain was starting to die down the longer he stayed still .

Spencer saw the phone as soon as his eyes focused. It was left on the bed sheets next to him, just out of arms reach.

Spencer looked at it longingly, desperate to just reach out and take it.

He licked his lips, staring at the little throwaway phone in its silver casing. He could call JJ on that. Spencer's eyes went wide, totally encapsulated by the small device. He could ring JJ, or Rossi... or Aaron

He could call Aaron.

Spencer wet his lips again, watching the phone as if it were food, not that food was particularly appetising to him in his current situation.

He reached his hand out as far as it would extend, trying to take the phone with mininmal effort. His attempt failed, his hand falling short by several centimetres.

Spencer slumped back. He took a deep breath, flexing his sore hand before reaching again, forcing his shoulders up with a low moan of pain.

His fingers brushed the phone before he slumped back, sweat having broke out on his forehead and his breaths coming short and fast.

You can call Aaron, he thought as he looked at the phone one more time. He took a deep breath, locking his gaze on the phone before heaving his upper body forwards and lunging for it.

As soon as he had his fist around it he fell back against the bed, his breaths coming out in great huffs and his cheeks flushed and fiery red.

He clasped the phone tight as he lay back, trying to get his breath to normalise. His leg had moved in the commotion and had started a ferocious throbbing up the muscle.

Finally, after getting his breath back and wiping his forehead, Spencer lifted the phone to his eye-line. He flipped it open, wincing at the strain it caused in his hand. He could see the small screen light up and he began to slowly type out Aaron's number.

How many more numbers were there? Spencer squinted hard at the small phone screen. He'd typed the first four. He could do the rest.

His fingers shook over each button until he got to the last and with great relief, when he pressed the green call button, the number went through.

Spencer couldn't believe it. The phone was ringing .

He lifted it up to his ear, his hands shaking as he did. Come on Aaron, he thought desperately.

"Pick up, pick up." His voice croaked and his fingers shook around the cold device.

Finally the phone stopped ringing and a voice broke through the silence.

"He-"

"Aaron!" Spencer gasped, breathing heavily with relief. "Aaron please, you have to find me. Track the call. Hurry, please god, hurry!"

There were tears in Spencer's eyes, his voice straining from whispering. He looked up at his door and was thankful Ed wasn't back yet.

"Who's this?"

"Spencer. Aaron it's me!"

"I'm not Aaron," the voice replied slowly. Spencer stopped breathing. He froze with the phone to his ear. He could hear his heart thudding.

The voice chuckled awkwardly.

"Sorry, man, you got the wrong number."

Spencer pulled the phone back and squinted at the number. The person on the phone was right, Spencer had typed the number in wrong.

Spencer could feel got tears start to slip down his face.

He heard a car pulling up into the parking lot and he held in a sob. He pressed the phone to his face, trying to talk through his emotions.

"Please," he hissed. "You have to help me."

"You got the wrong person, pal."

"No! Please! I've been kidnapped. Call the police. I-I'm in a motel. My leg is broken."

Spencer paused but the voice didn't reply.

"Please," he begged. "I'm going to die, you have to tell the police. It's Ed Bingham! He's going to kill me. Ed Bingham!"

With that Spencer pulled the phone from his ear. As he did the front door opened and Spencer could hear Ed stomp inside. Spencer placed the phone back where it had been and he lent into his pillows, wincing as he did. It seemed he'd over exerted himself.

Ed opened Spencer door and he noticed immediately that the young-man had shifted position. He was also awake, something he hadn't been for a while.

Ed lumbered forward and paused by the bed. He looked down at the phone. Spencer followed his gaze with wide, terrified eyes. After a moment Ed leaned over, grunting as he did, and picked up the small phone, slipping it into his back pocket. Spencer dropped his head back, letting out a breath of relief. Ed adjusted his pants and looked at his son. He tutted at the miserable state of the young-man who opened his eyes and rolled them weakly toward him.

"Hope you're ready to move," Ed said and he reached over Spencer and grabbed the sheets, pulling them roughly from Spencer's leg.

Spencer gasped when the thin fabric brushed against his legs and he looked down to see the gauze around the one leg darkly stained and crisp. It needed changing but when Spencer looked at Ed, the bag over his shoulder, the thick coat drawn tightly around himself, he knew he wouldn't be given any care for sometime. After the 'care' Ed had already shown, Spencer wasn't sure he needed or wanted the help.

Ed moved around to Spencer's side of the bed, kicking aside some bags he had laying along the floor. Spencer watched him from where he lay, blinking slowly as the man came into better focus.

"It's dark out," Ed said as he narrowed his eyes and looked Spencer up and down, trying to decide something. "Don't make any noise," he said.

He reached out and grabbed Spencer by the hand. Spencer had no strength to fight against it but he found the power in his lungs as he screamed out in pain. Ed tried to pull him from the bed again but every movement was unbearable pain for Spencer who could only scream out in protest.

"Yea," Ed grumbled, dropping Spencer back down. Spencer cried out, reaching down for his leg and gasping. "This isn't working," Ed said. He glanced up and around the room, sucking in his lower lip thoughtfully.

"I-I'll be qu-quiet," Spencer said in a small whisper, the words catching and hitching on the way out.

"I don't doubt you'd try," Ed said, lifting his hand to rub knowingly at his jaw. He smiled, one that made Spencer's stomach drop, his insides churning. "But you're a screamer."

Before Spencer could fully comprehend what was happening, Ed lunged over the bed and grabbed him, tucking his arm under Spencer's neck and pulling, his other arm going around his shoulders to haul him from the bed.

Despite how heavy his arms felt Spencer reached up and clasped his fingers around Ed's arm, digging his short, chipped fingernails into the skin. He wanted to draw blood. He grit his teeth, wishing he could lock his jaw around Ed's arm, leave his own mark on the man.

Ed tightened his arm around Spencer's neck and Spencer gasped, his fingers slipping, scratching at the arm to try and release the hold

Ed was talking but Spencer could only hear his heart pounding in his ears.

He yelled out when his fitful struggling knocked his injured leg on the bed.

Ed shouted something at him and Spencer jerked his head back, trying to hit any part of Ed and get the restricting arm from around his neck.

Black spots were starting to close in around Spencer's vision, the ceiling started to grow dark, the light dimming.

Spencer felt his body slow, his good leg continuing to kick out weakly and his nails slowing their once intense fight.

The ceiling warped, Spencer's vision falling black. He tried to gather air once more, his mouth bobbing open but the arm around him keeping his airway sealed.

And then suddenly, Spencer went still.

The team took the jet to Tennessee, hoping to be closer to Spencer than back at the BAU. Aaron scheduled another press conference and together with their well-constructed profile he hoped to make some leeway with the case.

Unfortunately, they were getting nowhere fast.

Aaron was starting to grow more and more doubtful that Spencer would be found alive. It shook him to his core to think of the young man he'd always considered a friend, to be anything but alive. He thought of all the possibilities and the idea that his father would still have Spencer with him was near the bottom of the list.

Ed could have killed Spencer right after the CCTV incident. He could have gutted him like he did those girls. He could have buried him. Or dumped his body out in the open before driving away.

The thought made Aaron tremble, terrified that he'd never get a chance to apologise and make up for what he had done to his own brother. Not to mention having failed to be a brother in the first place.

Aaron sat with his team, listening to new and useless information coming in from the public. The others were in similar states of despair. None of them wanted to stop but at the same time they were all at a loss as to where to look.

Aaron turned his head away from the officer talking to Emily and Morgan.

He looked over at the sheriff's office. Inside the sheriff was stood up from his desk, his office phone in his hand.

The sheriff was frowning, the wire to the phone stung tightly across the room as he moved across his room and stood thoughtfully beside his office door. The sheriff caught Aaron's eye and the look he gave him had Aaron sitting up. The sheriff blinked at Aaron as he continued to speak on the phone before pushing on his door handle and opening the door.

Aaron stood up, watching the sheriff nod slowly.

"Hold on, Steve." The sheriff looked up and motioned Aaron over. Aaron looked back at his team who, with nothing better to do, were watching intently.

Aaron walked over to the sheriff who was nodding again. "Agent Hotchner," he said, holding the phone down.

"What is it?"

"I have the sheriff from Huntingdon they had a call from a civilian about your guy."

Aaron stiffened at the news, holding out hope.

The sheriff put the phone back to his ear and shook his head. "Nah, that's great, Steve. Send my deputy the information and the transcript. And have the guy questioned some more. Alright."

Finally, the sheriff dropped the phone and gave Aaron a pleased smile.

"The guy who called in said he received a call from your victim."

"Spencer," Aaron said breathlessly.

"He remembered the name the kid mentioned. Ed Bingham. Had to call it in after seeing the news."

"Where is he?"

"Got the call from Anark he's at Huntingdon police department now, they're trying to track the call," the sheriff said and he went to put his phone back in its place while Aaron spun around.

Morgan stood up. "Yea?" he asked.

"We have a lead."

Spencer came to in the back of a car. It wasn't his car and it wasn't particularly comfortable. As he opened his eyes he realised why he felt such discomfort, he was covered in a sheet that stretched up over his head, and plastic bags which Ed had piled on top of him, most likely to hide him from any unwanted gazes.

Spencer shifted, the bags rustling around him, one falling to the side. He froze, turning his head and trying to see anything through the sheets. He could see the silhouette of the front seats but he couldn't make out much more.

Spencer reached up and pushed at the sheet, trying to push it off his face.

"Leave it."

Spencer stopped and looked toward the front seats again.

"I can't breath," Spencer said and he pushed the thin sheet up off his face again.

"Stop."

A hand batted at the sheet and Spencer paused, hishand above him, holding the sheet off his mouth. He breathed in deeply, listening to the way it rattled. He dared not to cough. The car slowed and Spencer swallowed thickly, clearing his throat as well as he could.

"Wh-Where are we going?" he asked, coughing quietly, irritating his throat and making himself need to cough again. He did and winced when Ed smacked something in the car, startling Spencer back into quietness.

"Will you shut up?"

"Where are we going?"

"I swear to god, Myles, you don't shut up and I'll break your other leg."

Spencer looked down at his leg and gritted his teeth. He pulled the sheet hard, managing to pull it from off his head. He looked across the car and saw Ed in the front, turning the wheel viciously.

"Where are we!?" Spencer yelled, the sound grating against his throat.

Ed jerked the wheel right and the car came to a sudden stop. Spencer glared at Ed as he turned around slowly. Spencer felt his blood run cold.

"I know you called someone," Ed said. His voice was colder than Spencer remembered. He felt cold as Ed stared back at him. "I saw the call history. You're not so clever, boy. Pretty stupid, if you ask me."

Spencer's lip trembled as he spoke. "What are you going to do?"

Ed's cheek twitched and he turned back to the wheel, starting the car. "You're going swimming."

Spencer slipped back down against the car seat. "You're going to k-kill me?" he said. He couldn't look at Ed anymore, he stared up at the car roof.

"Yea. Then Sean, then that little kid, Joe? No, Jackson or something."

"Jack," Spencer mumbled.

"Yep," Ed said, his voice had a dark cheerful element to it. "Little Jack, then Aaron."

"Why?"

"It's because of all of you that my life was ruined."

Thanks for reading, things will start to get more exciting soon. Things will be happening.