A greeting of names

ONE SHOT: A greeting of names

A loud thud was all William heard as his whole being was shoved harshly on a wall in a narrow alley. He grunted, standing straightly once more. The sharp gaze of his burning rubies and the frown tugged on his lips was not caused by the mocking stare the teenagers, who outnumbered him, was giving him. In fact, he mused at their lay back defenses and confidence. But the way his younger body, that of a 13 years old child, felt much untrained and inexperienced than his previous life's.

The fact the modern world was undoubtedly much unrestrained and free than he ever known, was utterly rejoicing to the young adopted Moriarty...or so he thought when he gained consciousness and memories of his previous life. He could not settle on a feeling as confusion blurted his thought.

He was reborn.
Which means, he...no, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 died.
The bitter mockery of being a child once more, feeling he was alive while in fact he lost everything.

Unless he didn't.
The child with matching rubies, clinging to him while smiling with a bright smile stretched on his scarless face, no sign of tightened breaths over aching heart, made all the warmth and assurance warp William's heart. He had his dear family, Louis, by his side after all.
Slowly familiar figures, with no trace of their past memories and scars, surrounded him. William made his resolve. As much as he believed with no doubt that he does not deserve to live, blood spilling from his soul itself, it was indeed a new life that he should and would go through.

But he was still William and a Moriarty at top. He could not simply watch the free world stained by injustice.
He was no judge, he was well aware. However, if he could witness the weak being overpowered without lending a hand, wouldn't he be no different than the scams he executed with his own hands? Wouldn't all his believes be mere lies?

Yet William, to his own sanity, refused to admit that he missed having a goal. With the appearance of all his allies and family except for 𝘩𝘪𝘮, overthinking devoured all his sleep. The blame, the self loath. Nothing could stop them, along with the pushed back desire for "ending it all", expect setting a goal to himself. Something much different than being a math genius (because he already accomplished that, shocking his adopting family and the country. William claimed that task as easier than he thought for his current world lack...smart people.) Thus, a much reasonable goal was formed.

He'll protect the good, the weak, the neglected. If needed, he'd push away (not eliminate) the evil. He would sharpen his mind more and train his new body.

While...waiting. A small hope hanging in his regretful heart.

Which resulted in his current situation. As his barely trained 13 years old body rushed to save a young child, being robbed near his college (yes, he is a genius, remember?) He was pushed suddenly for, the least to be said, to an unfair fight. But these were the streets, and he was no stranger to them.

Observing the 3 teenagers, he noted none of them had an actual fighting experience, relying on their number and size to pick on the younger children. Such a scam. William glanced down at the shivering kid and whispered.

"Run. Quickly."

As if possessed, the kid was as flash to oblige. The 3 bullies tried to stop the boy but was blocked by William's figure. Snickering angrily at his nose butting, one of them reached his hand to push William away and shove him on the wall. However, as quickly the red flashed in William's eyes, his right hand that was twitching for a familiar hold, his sword cane, "stabbed" the wooden staff -that was laying on the wall- and swung it to the side, causing his attacker to fall while his staff did not stop, landing a hit on another bullie's arm, the latter squirming in pain.

(A/N: as much as I try to make it sound cool, it's just 13 years old William beating 2 teenagers with a stick XD)

Glancing to his left, a teenager was rushing to land a blow on him. To William's displeasure, his body wasn't reacting perfectly, making him hold up the staff to protect himself. Yet the blow never reached as the rushing teenager was 𝘬𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 (William is sure he saw a leg stretched as a foot blown at the teenager's chin) and slammed to the wall.

Such a flexibility was rediculous in such a narrow alley. William was about to do the math for his rescuer's kick angel but stopped to focus on the first bully who stood up cursing and attacking him. The person who came to his rescue pressed their backs together before William was able to land a glance on his figure.

They're the same height. William noted. Probably age as well.

"Focus! Liam!"

And that was it.

The voice, the tone, the name.

Liam's eyes, as widened as they could be, shot towards the boy behind him. A lovingly longing and grinning Sherlock Holmes huffed. The youthful face looked much tired despite how lively it was at the same time.

Liam opened his mouth to speak but was cut by Sherlock's simple statement.

"Let's finished them all first."

Liam nodded as he swung his staff. (Oh, how much he missed his sword cane.)

And there they were, snickering at the bullies were running with their tales between their legs.

Unable to face each other suddenly as the weight of their meeting finally hit them, they just sat on the floor to catch their breaths, giving their backs to one another. The prolonged silence was understandable. There was no words needed.
No matter how desperate they were to meet each other, they both had scars. It was more difficult to show them even in such a new life.

With only the sound of their calming breaths, they waited.

Shifting slightly, hesitatingly, Liam decided that it was more logical for the first move to be his.

He pressed his back over Sherlock's, letting his warmth and weight sink on him. A shiver ran down Sherlock's back and before he could speak, Liam did and air stuck in the former's throat. A single word was all was needed to be said.

Like a whisper from his soft honeyed voice, Liam called.

"Sherly."

Letting the word sink in, the tone as endearing as that day, Sherly drew a smile and pressed closer, calling as equally lovingly.

"Liam."

And that was all what was needed. Understanding each other, they needed no other greeting. It was as simple as calling each other's names.