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Bailey MacDonald regretted the extra drink he'd had before leaving the bar. His head had already been pounding and now he could barely keep his footing straight.
It also didn't help that it was pitch-black and he couldn't get his fingers to stop shaking to turn on his phone torch.
When he got back to his car he fumbled with his keys for a moment. He stared at them then at the car, his vision wavy. He sighed, pocketing the keys. Definitely not sober enough to drive, he thought and he gave a disheartened huff, looking longing at his car for another moment.
Bailey reached again for his phone but his clumsy fingers slipped right over the slick smartphone and it dropped to the floor.
"Shit," Bailey muttered, practically falling to his knees in order to retrieve the phone. It had clattered just a few inches under his car and he stretched his arm out underneath the crane dirty underside to grab it. As his fingers curled around the warm screen he noticed something else flashing on the underside of his car. Bailey pulled his phone out but ducked again to get another look at the flashing red thing. He squinted at the circular pod wedged behind the wheel and watched as it flashed red every second or so.
"What the hell?" Bailey mumbled, pulling himself back up to his knees and scowling at his warped reflection in the car's blue paint-job. He didn't remember putting anything like that under the car. He frowned harder... he was certainly not sober enough for this much thinking.
He blinked, remembering where he was and how many drinks over the limit he was. It was then that he noticed a second face in the reflection of the car door, a dark body holding it up.
Bailey narrowed his eyes at the illusion, watching the reflection move until a pair of legs stood behind him. Bailey turned his head groggily just as a bat collided with the side of his head.
Bailey collapsed to the ground beside his car, his body jerking slightly in response to the hit before unconsciousness took him.
Bailey didn't wake up for a long time. When he did, he kept his eyes closed, his head pounding and his throat constricting when bile rose up.
He managed to open his eyes and keep himself from vomiting for long enough to notice the enclosed room he was in. The ceiling slanted together, forming a triangle. Bailey realised he must be in an attic.
He turned his head to the dim light peeking through a dusty looking window. He also realised then that he was tied up. Bailey jerked his hand but it didn't go far. He glanced up with painfully narrow eyes to see both his wrists firmly chained above his head. He flopped forward again and he saw the rope holding his two legs together.
He glanced around and saw another man with him. He was much younger, he looked barely into his twenties. In the dark, Bailey could see the whites of the young man's eyes.
His arms were chained up above his head and his feet were tied. He looked back at Bailey, leaning his head back and groaning.
"Oh god," the man said, his voice sounded wrecked.
"Who are you?"
The man dropped his head and slowly looked at Bailey. There were tears in his eyes.
"I'm Spencer."
Bailey stared at him. He recognised his that name.
"Uh... Bailey," Bailey croaked, wetting his lips as he gave the attic another sweeping glance.
"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbled and Bailey turned to looked at him again. Spencer flicked his head up toward the attic door. "That's my dad," he whispered.
Bailey looked over at the door, blinking for a moment before looking back at Spencer. "Meat-man's your dad?" he said breathlessly.
"Who?" mumbled Spencer, a frown furrowing his brow.
"Meat... what did you say your name was again?"
Morgan paced for a moment longer before grabbing his phone and hitting call again. He stood, his fingers dancing slightly on the rough denim of his jeans. The dialling stopped and Morgan's heart leapt as it had done twice already.
"Spen-"
"This is Reid. I can't take your call, please leave a message and I'll get back to you soon."
Morgan growled and clicked off the phone, slamming it down on the table.
"Come on, kid," he muttered, glancing mutinously at his phone. "Just let me know you're good."
"Morgan?"
Derek jumped when he saw Emily staring at him from the doorway. He grabbed his phone and nodded. "What's up?"
"Another man has been taken."
"Crap..." muttered Morgan.
"There was blood by his car, the unsub must have jumped him there but they didn't find his keys or wallet."
"Who was it?"
"Bailey... uh..."
"MacDonald?" Morgan said as he raised his eyebrows and Emily nodded.
"Yea. Bailey MacDonald. He was twelve when the unsub first kidnapped him."
Derek nodded slowly. Emily glanced at his pocket where he'd deposited his phone.
"Everything okay?" she asked, scowling at Morgan's slightly unnerved expression. Morgan nodded again, making an effort to pull his lips onto a half-smile. He sat down and tried to hold the smile.
"Yea... tough case," he muttered.
Emily scoffed. "You're telling me. Rossi and Hotch must be..." she paused, taking a seat as she grimaced. "God, it's got to be torture for them."
"Rossi needs this. He's so determined about it all. I can't imagine what it's been like for them not to have known who killed their son or even why," said Morgan and Emily sighed.
"I don't think any of us really want to know the reason."
"Yea, you're telling me."
Emily sat quietly, watching Morgan fiddle with his phone before she said, "come on, lets get food. There's no point in killing ourselves over one aspect of the profile. Food helps your brain work." She tapped Morgan's head and he laughed.
"Reid would argue that it's coffee that made your brain work," he said with a smirk and Emily rolled her eyes.
"No, he'd give us an exact run down on how exactly the brain works. Come on, I don't need a Reid biology test, don't you dare call him."
Morgan gave an uneasy chuckle and pushed up from the table. He wished he could call him... and that he'd pick up.
"Recognise him, Junior?"
Spencer glared at his father. "No," he said, and don't calm me that, he added in his head.
William laughed and shook his head. "Oh dear me, you have a lot of catching up to do."
Bailey glanced across at Spencer. "Junior... a-are you named after him? Him... jeez."
Spencer shook his head but his father had heard. "Good question. He was named after me, but as you can clearly see he doesn't live up to my standards."
"Please, dad, please don't do this," Spencer whispered but William just laughed.
"I'm finishing what I'm starting. Do either of you recall a Wally Johnson?"
Spencer shook his head while Bailey paused, staring up at William. William smirked smugly.
"Ah, someone seems to."
"Where is he?" Bailey whispered, his eyes wide. Wally had been slightly obnoxious but Bailey liked him. Wally came just three days after Bailey himself and when they were running away from the farm Wally had been the one at his side. His parents and Wally's mother had taken them out for lunch after the... kidnapping but Bailey hadn't seen the boy since then.
William was still grinning when Bailey looked back up at him. "Shame," William said, looking down at his hands. "He's much weaker than I assumed. The blow to the head that took you both down... well, it seemed to kill your friend Wally."
Bailey's breath caught in his throat.
"Dead..." he mumbled, his eyes growing absent while William's gaze grew stronger.
"As a doornail," William hissed and he reached into his pocket. Spencer looked positively sick, he had his head turned and he was inhaling shakily. William pulled out a clear box and gave it a shake, whatever was inside rattled.
"Taking all of them would've been a challenge, but I did take one."
Bailey and Spencer managed to look long enough to see a bloody tooth shaking around inside the box. Spencer turned his head quickly, retching into the corner.
William laughed, stowing the tooth away. "Come on, son," he said with a grin. "I had to restart my collection. I unfortunately had to give yours away too, but never mind, we're starting again."
Bailey stared in horror at William Reid. "You're sick," he mumbled. "I-I hope... when they find you that they kill you. I hope they shoot you!"
William laughed again, a cruel cackle breaking past his lips. "Keep hoping boys," he said before turning and shutting the attic door behind him.
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