AN: Yeah, First off I am really sorry if I misrepresent MPD cause I did as much research as I could when writing and I still will, the entire story is from Arthur's point of view and the purpose of this chapter is pretty much to introduce you to the way he grew up.

Enjoy!

I remember the day I gained the first of three more older brothers, it's one that will never escape me.
I was ten at the time, it was a clear summer day, a rare day for London. I had just walked into my house, which was a small but popular pub in inner London.
Strangely we were closed, none of the regulars there to greet me as they happily drank away at the bar.
There was a commotion up in our flat above the pub, my parents and my older brother, Scot, being the source.
I tore up the stairs, my brother had been hospitalized for reasons that were unknown to me at the time and this was the first news I had heard of him being or even coming home.
Before I could make myself known to my family Scot had a rather strange outburst.
"My name is JAMES" I remember him screaming it over and over again, I couldn't understand why, eventually my parents left him be and came out to re-open the pub, but not before giving me strict instructions not to bother my brother under any circumstances.
Of course, being a ten year old, I stuck my nose where it wasn't needed. I crept into my brothers room and approached him cautiously.
"Scot?" I let out, a mere whisper in my breath.
He turned and I flinched, however he just sighed. "why are you all calling me that?" he mumbled, turning his head over to me.
"What will it take for you to call me by my name?" he asked seemingly no-one.
It was all beyond my comprehension, I was ten and confused. My brother wasn't himself in so many ways.
The next question fell out of my mouth, I wanted to keep it to myself but I asked almost against my own will: "Who are you?"
He laughed, then turned to me. "my name is James, Arthur, I'm your brother, you know who I am."
I just stated at him, my brother's name was Scot Llyod Kirkland and he was Sixteen, but this person wasn't my brother, physically he was, but the personality was gentler than my brother.
That was the day I gained my second brother.

The next brother came in much the same way, except less of an out burst. By this point it was figured out that my brother had something called multiple personalities, so when the new altar ego arrived it was much more understood. His name was Sean Angus Kirkland, he was 'younger' that Scot and James, yet older than me. Once again he was gentler than Scot, but a little more so nervous. He was rather enjoyable to be around as well, both James and Sean were, Scot however was as usual, very stubborn and grouchy. It wasn't until the third brother came, that I get pulled into this story.

Scot had been going to therapy to try and unlock the reason for his MPD, and they did. Before I was born our family wasn't the best off and lived in the more dodgy part of London. Scot went to a kindergarten on the edge of the neighborhood and you could say that one of the carers took a 'special' interest in my brother.
He was molested in a series of terrible and upsetting ways, and the whole truth came out in a session with his therapist, and it came out in the form of Seamus Patrick Kirkland.
And that came onto me.

When Seamus arrived I was twelve. My parents had to go over a suburb to pick our stock, the weather being too dangerous to be delivered by a stock truck and they'd be gone till the next day.
My parents had only recently heard of Seamus, he was angrier than Scot, James or Sean but it wasn't thought he was violent.
The mention of him to me had been done briefly over a 'we'll be back soon, behave and I love you' while I was still in bed.
I awoke properly later to a smash. I sat upright and ran to the living room. "Hello? Scot...James? Sean?" I spoke softly, peeking into the room, one of them standing over a smashed frame, a portrait taken of us kids when I was eight and Scot was fourteen. He turned to me, his eyes different to any of the others, so I made a guess. "..S-Seamus?" all I received in response was a growl. "you look just like him, your hair is that same hideous fucking straw colour!" Seamus spat at me, approaching me at a fast pace. "you call yourself my brother but underneath your exactly! Like him!" he screeched again. I was scared, I began sobbing, being yelled at wasn't something I could usually stand, let alone by this stranger. "you made me! You filthy pig!" Seamus grabbed my bed shirt and pulled me up. "I'm going to show you, EXACTLY what you did to MY brother, how badly you hurt him, you and that fucking hair!"

It sounds stupid now, but, Scots molester, he was blonde, unfortunately so was I, and Seamus was all the suppressed rage and triggered memory's that Scot held.

The things he did to me, they hurt, they scared me, left me scarred. When Seamus passed out he was ontop of me, and when he awoke it was Scot. He was hazy, he had no recollection of what happened, but he could guess. He began crying and apologizing, hugging me and apologizing. How could I not forgive him? It wasn't his fault.

I could never bring myself to tell my parents, I didn't want to see Scot, James or Sean committed to one of those horrible institutions, however Seamus, I wish he would simply rot.

Seamus was smart, he was a very intelligent part of Scots subconscious, and usually emerged when I was alone with him and acted merely irritable when he was around our parents.

I'm almost eighteen now, for six years I put up with Seamus, his abuse sexual or otherwise, I put up with the guilt of being my brothers trigger for bad memories, I put up with sobbing and broken apologies from Scot, Sean and James.

I look down at my plane ticket bound for the states and turn to my family. My mother is smiling at me and my father is looking proud, next to them is Scot. His MPD condition had improved, only changing into one of his others when under severe stress or anger, but mostly, he was my Scot. I hug my parents and then to my brother who I hug extra close, trying to assure him like so many times before that I never blamed him for anything.

"run for now, but I will find you"

The whisper hit my ears like an explosion. I tensed and looked up, it was most definitely NOT Scot.

"Goodbye Seamus" I murmur back, not giving him the satisfaction of my terror.
I turn toward the hostess and present my pass and get ushered through, not looking back. But I can FEEL, his stare piercing through me.

However that's all behind me now. I can see my future now, New York, university, maybe even love. However, only time will tell.

My name is Arthur Kirkland. I was a victim of a stranger in my Brothers body. This is my trip to recovery. A new life.

A new beggining.