Sherlock Imagines

Close to heart (MoriartyxChild!Reader) {Part 2}

I have two ways to go with this, so if this was unsatisfying, I'll be happy to redo it, so comment what you think!)

The men continued to stare, Sherlock still attempting to fathom what reason Moriarty would have for having you. Or hurting you, for that matter. What do people expect? Of course Sherlock assumed Moriarty shot you! It's part of the villain-ness-don't you know?
"That means he'll send someone for her." A familiar voice sounded from behind Sherlock.
"Ah, Mr. Holmes, the senior. It's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid you aren't correct. He's been trying to get rid of me for awhile now. Even tried giving me to Uncle Sevrin, once... Okay, four times." You shrugged at their confusion, going back to solving the word puzzle section. John moved over to them, all their voices dropping so you couldn't hear, but John was soon whisper-shouting (more towards shouting). It didn't take long for it to be just John and Mycroft arguing back and forth while Sherlock stared at you.
"You can't just send her back to that monster!" He hissed, trying not to alert you to their conversation, yet failing so miserably, you were sure a sky diver who forgot to pull their parachute failed less.
"John, she servers as no advantage to us. We need to think logically!" Mycroft forced. Him and John didn't even notice when Sherlock moved into your room, continuing his observing. As the other two men fought, he stood next to you.
"What school did you say you go to?" Your hand suddenly stopped moving. You tried schools, many of them, but you just never fit in. While other girls and boys wanted a colouring book and to watch crap children's programming, you wanted Common Sense (by Thomas Paine), and to watch programs based off mathematics in construct physics. You were in preschool. Preschool.
"I don't go to school." You whispered only loud enough for him to hear. The gears in his head were turning as he narrowed his eyes at you. Finally, he fit the pieces together.
"What was it?" His voice sounded almost sympathetic, and when you looked at him, his Cambridge eyes reflected the same emotion.
"I don't kn-"
"What name did they call you?" He clarified before adding, "You're smarter than most adults, including a man who went through enough medical school to become a doctor. You can't be any older than seven, and the way you stopped when I asked, they obviously called you something. So, what was it?" You looked back down, going back to the puzzles. He didn't push it any further, opting to watch you work, instead.
"Freak." You whispered half way through the third book, only about twelve minutes later. Sherlock's head snapped to you, his shock that you even answered evident, but soon left his eyes to be replaced by empathy. He thought about it for a long while.
"Mycroft, stop arguing with John!" He snapped, getting both men's attention as you continued.
"She needs a place to reside, at least until the time we can decide where she is to end up. John, you'll be giving up your room for a bit.
Y/n will need a proper place to sleep," he paused to think about it as you looked up at him with slack jaw, and way-opened eyes, from there on putting his attention on you, "if you're alright with that, that is." Astonishment was the only thing you felt. In your six years on this planet, the only people who had ever been nice to you, were your father, and Sebastian. Now, you realized it was likely a ploy to gain your trust, but you felt like you and Sherlock were similar. Like he knew how you felt... Maybe that's why you agreed.

~Time Skip, move to Moriarty~

It had been a couple weeks since he'd seen his little girl, his bruises were accumulating, but to him, this was all worth it. You'd be safe, and Sebastian should have you by now. Note; should have. Mycroft made his way through the door, and Moriarty smirked to himself. This was always the part right before he was let go. Good ol' Mycroft Holmes! Joy filled him, and he had to hold back the relief of being able to hear your teensy voice chiding him on being smarter. But at least he'd see you, hear you speak to him, once again. It was his holy grail since he had been captured, and now, he could see its golden light shining. Instead of sitting down to make a deal, as per their usual, Mycroft dropped a folder in front of him, the cream 'CPS' only contrasting slightly from the Manila folder. His brow laced together as he stared at it.
"What is this?" Moriarty didn't like admitting when he didn't know things, but that distaste drove his curiosity.
"It's from Child Protective Services. Now, we can't put you in any direct violation of any of these laws, there did happen to be proof your boyfriend was the neglectful party, but they can convince people to pull her from your custody." He spoke with that usual cocky regality he always did. Moriarty's mind went racing. Take you away? They couldn't do that! He hadn't violated any rules, FOR ONCE HE HAD DONE EVERYTHING RIGHT!
"No, they can't!" He fought, his heart already picking up pace as worry-fueled adrenaline swam through his veins like Olympic swimmers.
"Actually, they will. Now, in that folder you will find two documents, of which you will be forfeiting all rights to y/n, and thereby placing her in the care of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor John Watson." He wasn't serious! Was he? Moriarty couldn't tell between the fog of rage and heart break clouding his head. He glared at the elder Holmes.
"Why the bloody hell would I give up custody of my daughter, and further place her in the hands of people who just want to use her?" His accusing hiss was expected, the defensiveness of her, was not. Mycroft leaned forward o the table, hands placed delicately to the sides of the folders she stared Moriarty down.
"Because, when your boyfriend tried to come get her, he nearly killed her in the process." The little amount of fight he had left, shriveled up and died. The utter horror on his usual braggart exterior made even Mycroft question if this was a good idea.
"Moran, would never hurt her!" His eyes were already becoming blanketed with salty tears that refused to fall. If you had gotten hurt by his orders, orders that were meant to protect you, could he really trust himself to do anything right?
"I never said he meant to. But it would seem he has no idea on how to keep a child safe. His rights to her are only because you're her parent, and you placed her in his guardianship. In two days, we have to give her up completely. Tell me, these past two times he has been left alone with her, how has he done?" Moriarty started thinking hard. Moran did see you as his child, loved you as it, but his level of responsibility (and ability to keep up with you) was lacking greatly. He brought his hands to his face, letting them slide down as he tried to shake off his pain.
"What happened? If you expect me to sign over all rights to my child without knowing what happened, you may as well go jump off a building." He glared at Mycroft, eyes shooting rays of spite.
"He attempted to take her, Sherlock moved her behind him, thy struggled for a bit. Sherlock attempted to move her out of harm's way, but Sebastian Moran pulled her back, and she is currently in the hospital. If you want to see the video-" Moriarty doubled over. His cuffed hands cradling his face as his elbows propped them on his knees. For the first time in Moriarty's entire existence, he was doubting himself. He wanted to say Mycroft was lying, that this was a ploy. He realized it was an accident on Sebastian's part, but they wouldn't stop until you were taken from him.
"No."