T/W: Mention of and Abuse (Of both child and teenagers)

Chapter Eight: Of Cookies and Promises

As the days grew colder, snow began to blanket the ground in a soft white powder. Children were bundled in tight, warm clothing, all of them…but one. The one who was six feet under, the snow on their grave their blanket, the cold coffin they lied in their warm bed, and the dirt around them their home.

Everything was quiet. Before, Hamish enjoyed quiet. It meant he had the world to himself. No distractions, no one else. But now….he hated it. He need something. Anything.

But he had nothing.

No toys he could get lost in, no world's he could travel to. Just the cold, dark room, and the fear eating at his chest and mind.

He fell asleep off and on, having nothing else to do, and trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder.

When the door loudly creaked open, he sat up, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes.

"Ha'ish?"

A small smile crept to his face. "Alex!" He croaked excitedly.

The blond-haired boy grinned and ran inside, enveloping Hamish in a hug. "Hi, Ha'ish!"

Hamish returned the hug to the best of his abilities, which was difficult, as his hands had been forced behind him, and had gained a tingly-hurting feeling.

When his new friend had settled beside him, he began to dig in a small Postman Pat bag. "I has cookies," he murmured and cheered when he found his snack. "Here," he offered, extending the bag.

"I can't take it. Ma arms are stuck," the other boy whined.

Frowning, Alex took this into consideration, glancing at the bag, and then at his friend. He stood, rounding Hamish to inspect the handcuffs. He tugged and kicked at them, causing Hamish to cry and shout, (owie, owie, Alex! )and the other boy hugging him and apologizing, placing a small kiss to his cheek. "Sowwy, Ha'ish. An yeps. They stuck ahwight."

Alex settled beside him, tugging his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them, his lip slightly stuck out and his thin brows drawn together as he thought deeply. After a long few minutes, and Hamish shifting awkwardly, Alex spoke up. "Just eat it wif your teeth!" He giggled, lifting the cookie to his mouth and dropping his hands once the treat was trapped in his teeth. "Like a puppeh!"

Hamish smiled and nodded, leaning forwards to catch the one Alex had offered in his mouth, before leaning back and making small quick bites so it crumbled into his mouth, a few chunks landing on the floor.

"Yay!" Alex cheered, clapping his hands and spewing crumbs from the bite of cookie he had in his mouth.

The other smiled, but it faded quickly when he saw a figure in the doorway.

Alex frowned, nearly mirroring his friend's pale, frightened expression. "Ha'ish?" He whispered, his hand-held out as he offered another cookie. He turned, and his small face paled even more. "Uh-ohs. H-Hi, Daddy. We just sharings."

Mr. Moriarty glared, and he pointed out the door quickly. "Out!" He snapped. The two-year old whimpered, and slinked away, leaving the bag and cookies. "Bye, Ha'ish," he whispered.

Alex's father paused before turning to Hamish and struck the cookies with his foot, crumbling them into dust before turning and slamming the door as he left.

Hamish stared at the cookies, then where his friend and Father left. Tears welled in his eyes and he pressed his face into his knees as the terrifying silence returned.

Children laughed and giggled as they played within the soft powder of snow. Shelters and tall snow friends were made, all protections from the war that had begun. Their shrieks and laughter could be heard from every point in London, though not one child paused to look for their missing friend. The one who couldn't partake in the game anymore. The one who was alone; the one who was lost.

The next time Mr. Moriarty came, it wasn't as silent as the last. The door crashed open, slamming against the inner wall and causing Hamish to bolt up, into a sitting position.

Two people were thrown next to him, and there was a bunch of shouting of bad words that made him want to cover his ears.

"Let us go, you ugly bastard!" The boy yelled, which only resulted in Tiger hitting his mouth, really, really hard. A crack rang around them, which reminded Hamish of the sound Max's leg made before it went funny.

Then, it seemed it was the girl's turn to yell. "You broke it! Holy fucking christ, you broke his jaw!"

Both men's faces were steely and cold as they left, shutting the door with a loud slam.

The girl swallowed hard, small tears splashing her face as she turned, making a small "oh" sound as her eyes fell on Hamish. A hand extended towards him, but he only flinched away, pressing himself against the wall.

"What's your name?" She whispered, as though afraid to be heard. "I'm Autumn, and," she gestured to the boy, "this is Spot."

"Hamish," he whispered.

She brushed a tear off his face tenderly with her thumb. "Well…Hamish, we'll get you home. I-I don't know what they want, but we'll keep you safe."

Hamish closed his eyes and replaced his head on his knees. "That's what Ruby said," he whispered. "And Ruby's gone. They took 'er."

Autumn's eyes widened as she glanced at Spot, who paled quickly. Another few moments of silence passed before Hamish gained the courage to speak again. "I want my Daddy and Papa," he sobbed.

With a sigh, Autumn pulled him into her arms slowly, careful of his wound. She rubbed his back and looked to Spot, who was cradling his jaw with his eyes shut tightly. "I know," Autumn cooed. "So do I."

They had a formulated a plan. Or, that's what it seemed to Hamish.

Autumn had wrapped her red blazer around his bare, shivering, shoulders. Hamish had told them about Ruby and Max, and Alex, to more clarity this time. "They never came back?" Autumn whisper, to which Hamish nodded, and Spot groaned.

The two teens exchanged a glance, and Autumn sighed. "Well, no doubt they'll come for us. So we'll just wait, I suppose."

They didn't have to wait long.

Mr. Moriarty and Tiger came in nearly twenty minutes later, and Hamish whimpered as he pressed himself closer to Autumn.

Bravely, she stood, walking over to Tiger. "Wh-why do you want us?" She asked gently, looking up at him with big doe eyes. One hand traveled to his chest, her other moving for his hand. "My parents will p-pay. Pl-please. Let us go." Her hand laced with his, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. Tiger's eyes narrowed.

"Ahtum-!" Hamish cried, jumping to his feet as Tiger's hand snapped forwards, and Autumn's wrist snapped. A loud scream echoed from her throat, and Tiger tossed her aside, grabbing on to Spot. The boy put up and fight and struggle, until a swift blow to the temple rendered him still.

Hamish screamed, though it sounded feeble and awful, and he scrambled to get away, fearing he was next. But Mr. Moriarty was quick, grabbing his arms and shoving him against the wall. "I wouldn't say a word, if you'd like to make it to the last act," He hissed, bringing them so they were nose to nose.

"I…will end you," He growled, his eyes flashing with vicious light. "Just as I ended your Father. I will tear you limb from limb and watch as every, every, last drop of blood stains your parent's pretty little floor. You will all go down in flames."

With that, Hamish started to sob, loudly, and more than he ever hard before. More than we had broken his arm, or nose, or when they hurt his arm.

He wanted his Daddy and Papa.

He didn't want to die.

The days grew colder, the darkness coming sooner. Snow grew thicker as he pillowed the ground, and frost began to decorate the windows like stunning lace ware. Children drew on fogged windows; creating works of art with the tip of their fingers. Giggles of excitement grew loud with the promise of Father Christmas, the countdown until Christmas had begun. One child remained silent, lost within the haunted memories of his past, having lost his one friend. The one he had held most dear, and the one who had given him the best gift of all. The gift he would care for, and preserve.

A/N: SO, SO sorry for my lack of updates! Life has been life, and I've been major busy :( Hope that was a decent chapter. Had some questions about Mycroft, and Hamish's capturing time span. May add Mycroft in, but I really don't want to say how long Hamish will be there for. Not to terribly long, I promise.