Disclaimer: I do not own "Sherlock" or any of its characters. Nor do I stake claim to this old nursery rhyme.
AN: Italics are from a past memory of the character. My take on a back-story. Enjoy if you so choose! :)
Tell me a nursery rhyme, mummy.
The room seemed to be shrinking. The four walls closing in, drawing him nearer and nearer...
Anything for my Little Magpie.
The boy of eight sat in the corner, hugging his knees tight to his chest. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
One for sorrow, two for joy.
From the adjacent corner, a tall, dark figure loomed over a woman. Her back was pressed tight to the wall while her face was fear-stricken and betrayed. Holding her arms up to shield her head, she screamed.
Three for a girl, four for a boy.
"Stop it, Daddy! Stop!" The boy pleaded through his heavy sobs. "Mummy!" he wailed.
Five for silver, six for gold.
With a flick of his wrist and a glimmer of steel, the mother's cries were silenced. The man fled. A single red apple rolled to the boy's feet, having been dislodged from its basket in the struggle. The boy scooped it up in his trembling hands. He looked towards the lifeless corner before him. The apple's juices began to spurt from between his fingers as he squeezed the fruit in his palms.
Seven for a secret never to be told.