Authors note: Sheriarty is taking over my life hkkgdjj. Should I continue this? Idk.

Dissociative identity disorder, previously known as "multiple personality disorder" is characterized by the presence of two or more distinct or split identities or personality states that continually have power over the person's behavior. The different identities are called "alters". As each personality reveals itself and controls the individuals' behavior and thoughts, it's called "switching."



Summary: Sherlock was skeptical at first. Being visited by a man claiming to not be Jim Moriarty but was actually Jim Moriarty but still wasn't. That he was actually James Moriarty and he wanted to stop Jim Moriarty. Then somewhere buried inside was also a Richard Brook who was actually a bit useless and annoying….It's been four years since Jim Moriarty has lost control of James Moriarty's mind. This is life after that.





Consulting Husbands: A Switch in the System.

James Moriarty had never known true happiness it seemed. Everywhere he thought he found it, it was quickly stolen from his grasp.

Even back in elementary school when he first came out as gay. He had been happy to announce his new discovery about himself. He was not a freak and he was not bad. He was only gay and that was all fine.

At least he thought it should have been. His parents were hopeless idiots but at least they partially understood. They did not give him too much hassle about his sexuality.

James was smarter it seemed. Smarter than everyone around him. He was different but polite. He was a good boy. (Most of the time) He was a good boy (mostly) that just so happened to be gay and he announced it to his peers. He thought they would be interested to know that he was embracing his sexuality. It was healthy. It was a good thing.

So why did Carl laugh at him and call him horrible names?

James did not understand but he tried to steer clear of the persistent bully who pushed him around and followed him home, shouting abuse.

It did not bother James so much. But it did bother Jim.

Jim was part of James for as long as he could remember. He never knew where exactly this part of him came from. It was bad and always causing trouble, hurting people even.

James tried to ignore him too but it became more difficult as time went on. Jim would fight for control and sometimes he would get it. Jim caused all sorts of mayhem and destruction.

The 'outbursts' as his parents used to call them, got worse and worse. Finally they sought professional help and it was discovered that little James had a big problem.

They diagnosed him with Dissociative Identity Disorder, or "multiple personality disorder" as people called it. He had three distinct alters living in his head. There was James, there was Jim and there was Richard.

James was a rational, kind natured and polite young boy. Everyone found him to be a charming lad.

Richard was a bit of a wreck it seemed. He had terrible anxiety and panic disorder. He was erratic and jumpy, afraid of his own shadow. People thought him to be a bit of a weirdo but it was manageable at least.

Lastly, there was Jim. Where could one start with Jim? Jim was...insane, violent, psychotic, angry…

Jim was a monster and he could not be controlled no matter how much James tried. Jim was always in his head, urging him to do wrong and act out in horrible ways. James fought with Jim for control constantly. At first it was easy keeping the monster from getting loose, keeping him locked away in the deepest parts of his mind. James had been stronger than Jim for years, much stronger.

That is, until the incident with Carl Powers.

James had always been mostly in control of his actions, of his emotions. He always responded to everything with careful thought and with the appropriate reaction for the situation at hand.

Carl's actions were not appropriate. They were vile. They were not thought out at all. Maybe Carl thought he knew what the response to his assault would be. That James would stay quiet about what he did. That James would be a willing victim as he always had been with lesser torment.

Carl made a mistake. He tried to victimize Jim and while James could be a seemingly willing victim, Jim Moriarty was anything but.

James had been in control that day and everything was fine. Things were in their right order. His coming out had gone well. No one was too mean about it and if they were he just ignored it. Life was good. He was excelling in his studies. He would be able to skip a few grades very soon. His parents were proud. He thought he was finally experiencing happiness. It disappeared forever that same day.

It was after gym class. It happened in one of the showers. Carl cornered him in there. Carl laughed and laughed and laughed.

It was like a dam burst and released whatever roaring force that was behind it. Except it wasn't water. It was flames.

James should not have done it. He shouldn't have tried to retreat into the back of his mind to escape the abuse. That was where Jim hid and now that he was free, he was never going back.

In the next month Carl was dead in the pool and James had changed forever. No longer being at the forefront of his mind, he now shared control of it with a psychopath.

Jim took almost full control of James whole mind for years and years. He built a criminal web, he killed so many people and had other people kill so many people.

That was when James met the love of his life. Sherlock Holmes. In Bart's Hospital. James managed to gain control for a bit and started to work there. Or maybe it was all part of Jim's plan to trick Sherlock and hurt the man.

There was one thing Jim did not plan on. For James to fall head over heels in love with their mortal enemy.

Sherlock was skeptical at first. Being visited by a man claiming to not be Jim Moriarty but was actually Jim Moriarty but still wasn't. That he was actually James Moriarty and he wanted to stop Jim Moriarty. Then somewhere buried inside was also a Richard Brook who was actually a bit useless and annoying.

To a regular mind it would have been too ridiculous or a carefully thought out trick that should be ignored.

If Sherlock was being honest, he would admit he had his doubts. Especially when James requested to be handcuffed to Sherlock's bed and for Sherlock to trigger and draw out Jim.

A switch in personalities can be faked of course but this was very much real. Sherlock saw it. He tested the hypothesis and discovered the truth. Jim was not a born person. He was an unstable personality that took control of an otherwise good man.

To this day, this case remains Sherlock's favorite one he ever took. He worked together with James to defeat Jim Moriarty and they did. They now had him under lock and key. Jim was gone for the most part.

James and Sherlock monitored for signs of a return daily and now once a week or so. They were busy people these days, of course. Being married with children did take a toll on one's regard for their mental health.

It has been nearly four years without any sign of a return from Jim.

They had a beautiful four year old daughter. She was half Jim's DNA and half Molly who acted as their surrogate. Her name was Isobel Moriarty Holmes and she looked very much like James. Dark hair, brown eyes and all. She had a bit of a temper but so did James at times.

They also had a son, Scottie, who was turning two soon. He was mostly conceived the same, with Molly as the surrogate but this was 2015 and there were many advancements in the ability to reproduce. Which was amazing for couples of the same sex. In short, Scottie had a mixture of both Sherlock and James's DNA. He had a bit of Sherlock's curls and but did have James eyes. Brown eyes were very dominant in genetics obviously.

Scottie was a very happy little boy but was shy and a bit soft spoken.

The two children were very different from each other but complemented the other nicely and loved their parents.

The two consulting husbands were not perfect parents but they did their best to be there emotionally and physically for their children. They did have help from Sherlock's friends and family. Although James' excessive amount of wealth took care of all their needs, Sherlock still worked for Scotland yard for a check. The detective put every bit of it into a savings for Isobel and Scott.

Their children wanted for nothing and neither did they. The family was content. James was so incredibly happy...for a while. Suddenly everything started to spiral very fast.

"What did you do to his hair?!" Sherlock shouted at his husband in exasperation. He glared at the now short and slicked back strands on Scott's head. He agreed with James that the boy should get a haircut but he did not intend for them to hack it all off!

"Cut it and styled it nicely. He looked wild." James answered simply.

"He looked fine before! I spent months minding his hair and in ten minutes you take a bloody shear to it! I hate it now."

Scottie frowned, saddened that his daddy didn't like his new hair when papa loved it.

James groaned. "Now look, you've upset him." He picked up his son to offer comfort. "His hair is nice and will also grow back."

"He looks-"

"..handsome-" James started.

"-like a psychopath!"

James' face fell and tightened. "What the hell are you talking about? I wear my hair like this sometimes."

"Fine. Apparently all the brushing and putting product in it was for naught." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "He will just look how you want and my opinion be damned." He grumbled, stalking away. "May as well buy him a Westwood while you're at it-" he muttered.

"What did you just say?!" James had lunged forward and in anger he reacted. He had a fist full of the curly hair he was now holding his husband by.

The room dissolved to silence for a moment. Scottie's crying brought James back to the world. He blinked, looking down at his crying son in one arm. His eyes widened and his death grip on Sherlock's hair released.

"I'm...I'm sorry…" James stammered. "Sherlock.."

Sherlock turned around, looking at his husband with wide and fearful eyes.

James' eyes were just as full of fear. He bounced Scottie on his hip, patting the boy's back to ease his cries.

Sherlock finally asked the question. "Is he-"

James shook his head. "I don't know. I...I'm sorry...I.."


"Yes, Sherlock."

Sherlock sighed in relief. They were not in immediate danger. Still, he took their son from him as a precaution and James looked at him like a sad puppy.

Their daughter Isobel ran excitedly into the sitting room, twirling her new dress. It was expensive and a shade of crimson. "I'm ready for the ball, papa! We are going to dance!" she exclaimed as she ran towards James.

Sherlock quickly redirected her path, catching her by the arm. "Papa is not feeling well and is staying home tonight. I will be filling in for him and dancing with you."

James said nothing because what could he possibly say? He lost control and he needed to gain it back while the family was out of the house. That was how it went. How it always went.

Isobel, while disappointed her papa wasn't coming to the ball, was thrilled her daddy was going to dance with her. Her daddy was a great dancer. "Can we do ballet?" She asked.

"Yes, of course." Sherlock said, giving James a look. "Come along." He ushered Isobel to the stairs. Scott was held with one arm, his chin resting on the detective's shoulder.

"Bye, pa!" Scott sniffled, waving a chubby hand.

James gave a wave along with a smile that looked more like a grimace. Sherlock rushed them out so fast but he understood. It was precaution. Sherlock would go to the ball, make a good impression with the people there all on his own, and take the kids to an undisclosed hotel out of London. They would stay for a few days or a week at most. However long it took for them to be sure James was not dangerous.

This has happened before. It was like a drill in their home. Sometimes it happened without probable cause, which James hated very much.

He understood Sherlock trying to stay safe but sometimes it felt like James had to hide his emotions. Especially if he was upset. The moment he raised his voice, Sherlock would do just this. He would take the children and leave. Sometimes it was with good reason, like tonight. It was justified completely. He put his hands on his husband in anger. Which was unacceptable.

Half the time, however, it was unnecessary.

The children surely noticed a pattern. Papa would get angry and daddy would take them on a surprise trip. Scottie was still very young and didn't have much of a reaction to this besides some crying.

Isobel however, was older and smarter. At one point she even purposely tried to get James mad so Sherlock would take them off someplace new. She was a bit of a schemer in that way.

James sat himself down on the couch, running his hands down his face. He needed to calm down. He wanted to retreat into his mind kingdom but he knew he couldn't. That would be letting his guard down and leaving his mind open to a takeover. If Jim was trying to get out again, that is. He still was not sure if the anger was even Jim.

While he would love to blame all his bad qualities and violent urges on Jim, he knew he couldn't. Some of them belonged to him. He would be lying if he said he didn't have a problem with anger himself or if he had never wanted to take it out on someone.

First he had to retrace his steps. He had just come back from his personal stylist with Scottie. They both got suited up for the ball tonight. Scottie got a haircut that James acknowledges now that Sherlock didn't agree to. He should not have gotten the boy's haircut without talking to Sherlock about it. That was a mistake and his own fault.

Sherlock did provoke him but he should have controlled himself better. He knew Sherlock spoke to people without thinking a lot. His husband was an idiot in that area but he loved him. Always. Sherlock was the love of his life.

James felt disgusted with himself, remembering how he grabbed his husband by the hair. He replayed the gasped cry Sherlock gave over and over. What the hell had he been trying to do?

Sherlock said that idiotic comment about those dreaded suits that used to clothe James' body. Sherlock struck a nerve there.

James suddenly felt very overheated. He made his way to the bathroom, turning on the sink. Against his better judgement, he took a look at himself in the mirror. Immediately he felt ill. He did resemble Jim quite a bit. He was wearing a nice suit, not Westwood but still extravagant in any case. His hair was gelled back, a bit longer than how Jim kept it however. Still, the impression was the same. When did he start mimicking Jim's style?

No wonder the people around him were weary, and Sherlock. Oh God. He couldn't imagine what Sherlock felt looking at him when he looked like this.

He needed to fix it. Now.

James loosened his tie and turned up his collar. He ran water over his hands, bringing them up to tussle his hair. The strands unraveled from the neat styling, standing up in odd directions on his head. He used more water, running his fingers through his hair over and over until it no longer resembled Jim's trademark look.

He could NOT come back. It would ruin everything. People would get hurt and Jim hated Sherlock. Jim would be so very angry that he was locked away. Jim would kill James' family because he would want revenge.

James stared expectantly into his reflection, expecting some sort of reaction. It did not come. He was losing his damn mind. He was in complete control was he not? He loved Sherlock, he loved his kids, and he loved his life now. But he got so angry sometimes. At the world, at people, at Sherlock. Normal was so boring. It felt so strange to be a family man but he wanted to make his loved ones happy. He was terrified everyday but he did his best. He didn't want Jim back or the life of a criminal mastermind.

He wanted to read to his children and watch them grow. He wanted to hold Sherlock in his arms and show him how much he loved him. Instead he scared his kids and terrorized his husband. James barely recognized himself anymore.

James grit his teeth, glaring at himself in the mirror.




"Did you miss me?" The words came out of his own mouth, soft and lilting.

James' eyes shot open and he saw red. His fist came down into the mirror again and again and again…

He didn't feel pain, only the rage and hatred that fueled him. It kept him standing and pounding against the mirror. He lost track of how many times. His hand felt so warm now but his body felt cold.

James' breath came out in bursts as he staggered on his feet. He didn't remember much of what happened after that. He remembered walking towards the kitchen in search of a knife. He was going to stop Jim Moriarty once and for all. At least that had been his plan. He didn't seem to make it to the kitchen.

The next thing he remembered was John Watson standing over him looking mildly concerned.

"Jim? Jim, can you hear me?"