William Charles was mentioned in Family Locator as the boy that had decided he liked his middle name better. We saw him in Chaos 6.

One hand carefully held the first piece steady to let him balance the second. The wood would support the metal, which in turn should reflect the sunlight from the closest window just…like…that. Small arms wrapped around his middle as the alcove gained enough light to see.

"T'ank you."

"Not a problem," he answered, returning the sideways embrace. "Just be careful not to bump it, alright? I'll try to find some nails later today so we can make it a little more sure."

Rob nodded, already inspecting the gentle light filtering into his cubby. The younger boy still disliked the open courtyard, but the cubbies remained shadowed even at high noon. The polished piece of metal made his favorite alcove useable for more than sleeping.

"And, Rob?" Mack gave a small grin when the boy looked back. "Try not to spend all your time hiding from us? We won't hurt you."

Rob ducked his head. "I know that."

Yes, he did, on some level, but Rob's first reaction still entailed running from whatever had startled him. He would need a bit more time to quell the instinctive defenses leftover from that horrendous house. At least he no longer had to worry about his uncle finding him.

"Do you—"

"Charlie!" Sprinting footsteps in the alley cut off the rest of his question. "Charlie! Mack!" Mack spun to look as Doris barreled through the entrance, heedless of the debris she shoved out of place. "Alpha Protocol!"

"Oi!"

Mack lunged to his feet, barely noticing the noise of Charlie's dropped project hitting the cobblestones. Anyone in his path either moved or ducked to let him jump, and he quickly followed the others into the alley. Doris had found a child in danger.

"Where?" Charlie asked as he dodged debris.

"Next street," she panted. "Young boy. Maybe five. Covered in bruises. A little blood. I couldn't reach him without notice, but he knows I'm coming back."

"Situation?"

"Only saw a man. Older than the doctor but not old. Harsh. Carrying a whip as he searched for the boy."

The alley opened next to Mr. Hobbs' shop. Darting through the crowd, Doris led them south to a wider lane. She slowed just before the next thoroughfare.

"Boy on left," she murmured, one hand identifying the shape huddled beneath a pallet. "The man was—"

"I told you to quit hiding from me."

A low growl interrupted her sentence, then a cruel-faced adult stomped around the other side of the building, whip in hand. Hard eyes scanned the alley.

"Him," Doris confirmed, dropping her voice further as the adult rummaged through a nearby bin. He grumbled all the while about finding "the young rat," but Mack waited silently. Charlie would decide a method of attack most likely to work.

"There you are!"

But only if they had time. A yelp of fear drowned beneath the clatter of the pallet hitting the cobblestones, and anger bloomed. Bruises covered everywhere the boy's clothes did not, several cuts marred his face and arms, and a nasty welt next to his eye announced the blackguard had scored with that whip at least once. Mack made no effort to silence his lunge.

Wide eyes looked on in wonder when Mack slammed into the man from behind, and the other four boys joined him a moment later. Mack took advantage of the distraction to relieve the man of the whip. Judging by the boy's many injuries, this callous, old codger needed to know what such a weapon felt like.

Hot fire seared the man's back from shoulder to hip, and even Charlie let out a vengeful grin at the corresponding scream. Mack cracked it once more before tossing the weapon to the side. No matter how satisfying, fists were more honorable.

And almost as enjoyable. For all that he had obviously made that boy's life a living nightmare, this man had no idea what to do when someone fought back. He tried at first to escape, his focus on where Doris carried the boy toward the courtyard, but Charlie landed a solid hit to his stomach to abandon that idea. Next, he tried to take out one of them at a time. That attempt ended even faster when the others all landed a fist to the man's ribs, stomach, and cheek. He would have a black eye soon enough.

Good. Mack intended to color the other as well, just as he had done to Rob's uncle. If only he could be sure this man would go to the same place.

Pierre's entire weight landed on the man's foot just before Clint kicked high. The man bent double to give Mack his opening. A closed fist impacted the man's other cheek, and a whistle sounded on the next block. That officer had the worst timing. This man did not yet have half the injuries his victim displayed.

"Scatter!"

Mack managed one more fist to the man's nose, but they could not stay. The others bolted to get lost in the alleys as Mack used a bin to reach a drainpipe. If he could not finish their payment, he could at least indulge his curiosity. No Yarder would think to check the roof.

Except one. He shifted further back, only his eyes over the edge as a familiar officer reached the groaning man.

"Sir? Are you alright?"

The man swore at him, one hand trying to stem the blood flowing from his nose. Mack grinned to see the other wrist beginning to swell.

"Sir?" The inspector tried to help him upright, surprise lifting his eyebrows when another colorful stretch of words revealed the two lashes lining the man's back.

"They stole my boy!" the lowlife finally growled. "I came to get him for supper, 'n a bunch o' kids grabbed me. They took my boy! Get me back my boy!"

The inspector reflexively glanced toward the courtyard, noted the whip in the middle of the alley, then scanned the surrounding walls. When Mack's pebble bounced off the brick directly next to a child's bloody handprint, whatever sympathy Inspector Lestrade had harbored quickly vanished.

"Did they kidnap him or help him escape?"

Another choice word cut itself in half. "Kidnapped!"

The inspector hummed a sarcastic agreement, already pulling a shiny pair of cuffs from his pocket. "'Taken home' probably fits better. The Yard's doctor will be seeing to you. You are under arrest for assault and battery of a child."

A different sort of roar lifted from the boy's father, but the cuff's sudden pressure on his broken wrist stopped any thought of fighting his way free. The inspector tipped his hat at a spot a couple of feet to Mack's left, then a firm grip directed the blackguard to the closest beat. He would find himself in a cell soon enough.

Unable to kill his smile, Mack pushed away from the edge to find a different drainpipe. Their newest Irregular would love hearing about this, but just because the inspector had acknowledged his presence did not mean Mack needed to get himself identified.

Yet another life changing due to the Irregulars. Hope you enjoyed! And thank you to those who reviewed in recent days :D

Fireguardian: It's always fun watching someone go back to read a story that's been posted for a while. I'm so glad you enjoyed Unexpected Arrivals. I have to agree with you on chapter two: Holmes totally deserved that black eye. And another one, as well, though he might have to wait for Mary to recover a little, as I don't see Watson delivering it, lol.

MHC1987: the key there seems to be the "get Watson to follow the plan" part. We all know how stubborn our favorite doctor is :)