Chapter 41
Molly enjoyed the first day of school, glowing at the prospect of being a year five. Which meant she was no longer in the lower years of primary school. Yes, the nine year old enjoyed it very much.
Hamish, however, did not enjoy his first day of school. A twinge of loneliness was in his heart as he wandered the corridors towards his locker. Out of habit he greeted Mortimer, only to realise that the boy wasn't there. Of course he wouldn't. Hamish wouldn't see Mortimer again. The thought of him, truthfully, only brought back painful memories. Then again, it must be just as bad for Mortimer. His dad was dead. He was in hiding, most likely, with his little brother and other dad. Sebastian Moran.
After Hamish had revealed that Mortimer was the one who had texted his dad, Sherlock had been searching for Sebastian Moran. It hadn't taken long for Sherlock to work out who Mortimer's dads were. Now he was searching for Sebastian. To get him a life sentence in jail, hopefully. He was yet to find him. But it was only a matter of time.
Hamish felt sorry for Mortimer. Sure, his dads may be criminals but he hadn't done anything wrong. And when Moran was caught... Well Mortimer and his brother wouldn't have anyone left. They would be put into a children's home undoubtedly. Hamish didn't know what he would do if he lost either of his dads. He shivered at the thought. No, that was the last thing he ever wanted to happen.
Hamish walked out of school to find Uncle Mycroft standing in the middle of the playground, leaning on his umbrella with a rather displeased curve to his lips. Arianna stood beside him, looking just as displeased. Myc and Molly were chatting rather happily to each other.
"You took your time," Mycroft commented, arching an eyebrow. "Your father seems to think that I am a chaperone service with enough time on my hands to escort his children around."
"Where are dad and papa?" Hamish asked with a frown as he followed Mycroft towards a sleek black car.
"As he put it, on an important case," Mycroft replied. "Gregory seems to think it is a break through. Locating a crime syndicate I believe." Hamish frowned, nodding. He followed his cousins and little sister into the car. It seemed that they were going to Uncle Mycroft's house. Dad and papa no longer let Hamish stay at home alone. Just in case something happened. Not that Hamish wanted to be home alone.
John and Sherlock picked up Molly and Hamish late in the evening, both looking rather triumphant. Obviously everything had gone well. It was maybe around nine o'clock when they arrived back home, grabbing a takeaway on the way back. While Sherlock, John and Molly feasted, Hamish excused himself to go to his room. He wasn't that hungry. He just wanted to have some peace, really. He flopped onto his bed, lying out on it with a sigh. He glanced to his side with a frown and picked up the walkie talkie on his bedside table. He knew Martin wasn't really speaking at the moment but... It was worth a try.
"Hey, Martin," Hamish murmured into the walkie talkie, holding down the required button. "I know you won't be in the mood for talking. But I miss you... I really do. I haven't slept since you've gone. I know it's bad and all but I can't. You know why." Hamish sighed slightly. "I don't have any friends in school anymore. Not with Mori gone and you off in Scotland." He smiled. "I hope you're doing well. Having fun with all your friends and your music."
"I miss you too, Mish..." The voice was quiet and distinctly Martin's. Hamish felt a warm smile spread across his lips.
"You talking again?"
"Only to you... I snuck into the bathroom."
"Great," Hamish ran a hand through his dark curls. "How are things?"
"Okay. I had a nightmare last night but I didn't scream. Max ended up sitting on my bed which helped."
"You have a good friend in Max. I approve."
"Thanks." Martin sounded almost amused. "So school not good for you?"
"No," Hamish sighed. "With Mori gone I don't have anyone to talk to. A few people were teasing me."
"Don't let it get to you, Mish. Just think... You've only got three more years left. Surely you can bear that."
"Yeah I guess. So is the music going well?"
Hamish didn't get a reply, just heard some movement. Someone else talking. It was at least ten more tense minutes of Hamish staring at the walkie talkie before he got a reply.
"Sorry, Max had to use the bathroom for something. Kicked me out. But yeah, everything is going well."
They talked for quite a while longer before Martin had to leave to get ready for bed. Hamish was glad Martin was talking again, even if it was just to him. His twin's silence had been... Unnerving. Then again it was just his way of coping with what had happened. Hamish had been affected just as badly. But he dealt with it differently.