Triggers: Abduction, Child abuse, sexual abuse, physical abuse, Rape, verbal assault
Tags: AU, Daemons, very AU, Follows along with The Golden Compass plot, Set in Lyra's World, But the clothing style is different in some respects, Some places names are made up a little, You'll see, It still follows the same route when introducing John and Sherlock, does that make sense?, I hope that made sense, You'll see, Jim is a very special child, Jim is a survivor, I think I cried at least five times while writing this, serious pain in the beginning, I Am So SORRY, I swear I love Jim Moriarty, He's my favorite villain ever, I heart Jimmyjam, induced mental disorders, crime, so much crime, Reddington is a saint, as in the patron saint of Crime, Reddington is amazing and you can't tell me differently, eventual revenge, Concierge Criminal helping out a baby Consulting Criminal, Criminal family, Casefic, Kid!Jim, Teenage!Jim, Adult!Jim, Plot, plot, plot, plotty, so very plotty, Call me "Plotmaster", read the tags, they are important,
Characters: Jim Moriarty, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Phil Anderson, Sally Donovan, Irene Adler, Anthea, Mike Stamford, Molly Hooper, Raymond Reddington, Dembe Zuma, Elizabeth Keen, Tom Keen, Donald Ressler, Aram Mojtabai, Glen, Harold Cooper, Samar Navabi, OFCS, OMCS,
Relationships: Mike Stamford/Molly Hooper, John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Greg Lestrade/Mycroft Holmes, Elizabeth Keen/Tom Keen, Jim Moriarty/OFC
Notes: at the bottom Kertoja "Narrator" [Finnish]
At the top, if possible While Britain is spelled "Brytain" in the series and on the given world map, the smaller places are not mentioned to have specific names. Therefore, Ireland is still spelled the same, as well as all other countries that are not otherwise changed in name.
Information needed to write this story: MPD is hypothesized to be caused by severe childhood trauma that creates a mental split or "dissociation" as a defense against that trauma (Spanos, 1994). The different personalities that occur are called alters. These different parts develop separately and in adulthood help the sufferer deal with stress by expressing resentment or help calm the main personality. Each patient possesses two or more selves and each identity has its own mood, memories, behaviors, and experiences.
and the trauma is so severe that the individual creates multiple identities to cope with it (Spanos, 1994). The severe trauma is thought to be a result of physical or sexual abuse in childhood. Likewise, most modern patients are women who have been diagnosed with other disorders before being diagnosed with MPD. This is because the intense trauma caused by abuse may create other disorders as well.
Characteristics such as hypnotizability, absorption, fantasy proneness, and some aspects of openness to experience (Spiegel, & Cardeña 1991). These can be risk factors for dissociative problems.
also theorized about when vulnerability was at its highest. The developmental window of vulnerability is 18 months to 8 years old-This is important because it helps to predict how many alters may appear. The above characteristics are easily found in small children. There is a significant negative correlation between the age of appearance of an alter personality and the number of personalities.
Dissociative Experiences Scale measures are related to: amnesia, depersonalization/derealization, and absorption.
Amnesia is evidence that an individual has engaged in complex behavior that they have no memory of or the experience of "snapping out of it" in the middle of an activity and having little or no idea how they got there. Depersonalization or derealization is out of body experiences and other extreme forms of amnesia. Absorption is losing contact with current surroundings.
The development of dissociative identity disorder is understood to be a result of several factors:
Recurrent episodes of severe physical, emotional or sexual abuse in childhood.
Absence of safe and nurturing resources to overwhelming abuse or trauma.
Ability to dissociate easily.
Development of a coping style that helped during distress and the use of splitting as a survival skill.
While abuse is frequently present, it cannot be assumed that family members were involved in the abuse.
Symptoms
Unexplained events and inability to be aware of them (such as finding yourself somewhere without remembering how you got there or new clothes that you have no recollection of buying).
Frequent bouts of memory loss or "lost time."
Inability to remember large parts of childhood.
Sudden return of memories, as in a flashback and/or flashback to traumatic events.
Episodes of feeling disconnected or detached from one's body and thoughts.
Hallucinations (sensory experiences that are not real, such as hearing voices talking to you or talking inside your head).
"Out of body" experiences.
Suicide attempts or self-injury.
Differences in handwriting from time to time.
Changing levels of functioning, from highly effective to nearly disabled.
Basically, the child ring is an organization about seeing if it is possible to make a child who, because it has DID, have different daemons when reaching adolescence due to the break in personality. To cause a break in personality, or Dissociative Identity Disorder, forms of abuse such as physical and sexual must be taken.
After months and months of testing, they have no success. Then, after consulting with the Witches, they are given information that helps: They will only succeed if they find a twin who ate their sibling in the womb. The General Oblation Board searches the local areas in Brytain and find that James Moriarty was a twin who did just that.
They plan to take him when he is younger, but his father-who is a part of the General Oblation Board is in the way. He is sent to Svalbard to help find a place to install the institute where they will put Bolvanger later on to get him out the way and Jim's Mom at work, to plant a body and make it look like Jim was killed in an accidental fire.
They capture Jim, and put him through the process of physical, sexual, and emotional abuse to induce DID into the boy for the time that it takes-6-8 years old.
When he turns thirteen, he reaches adolescence, and Kertoja settles. The program succeeds with Jim, and Jim only, since his situation is so rare. When in his dominant personality Kertoja is a Magpie.
When he is "Richard Brooke", Kertoja changes into a Wolverine, no longer Kertoja but "Skydas".
When he is "Seamus Moriarty" Kertoja changes into a Red kneed tarantula named "Cahira".
Seamus Moriarty is aware of Jim, and Richard. He is aware. He calls Jim and Richard his "Twins" implying that he is a triplet.
The Major (Bill) Red and him had a falling out over Jim Moriarty when Major tries to recruit Jim because Jim has potential to be a spy and something more cause he is intelligent and Red was like,
"Lollol how about NO."
And kept Jim safe from him even as Major tried to bribe Reddington.
At the same time, Jake, later known as Tom Keen, is brought in (around 1994)
Bill( The Major) has Tom Keen and then later on we know that Tom Keen was bought out by Reddington to be with Elizabeth. Then Berlin employed Tom and all Hades broke loose and Red got angry and wants to find Tom.
Doctor Selma Orchard helps Reddington to block Jim's memories to the best of his abilities when he gets out of the child ring, making him mostly stable as just Jim—but slowly the memories come back through flash backs because he is scratching at the "wall" in his mind. Moriarty comes back, and so does Richard.
So Jim has two -Richard Brooke-who protects him from the evils of the world by taking over and enduring the brunt of the abuse dished out at Jim during his time in the child ring.
Seamus Moriarty is his other one, who attacks and destroys those who hurt him. We don't know about him until the pool incident.
Jim killed Carl Powers in 1989, when he was 11 years old. It happened at a London pool, ruled out as an accidental drowning.
What happened was, Carl saw the marks and deformities due to Jim's tragic past during the time needed to change for gym at school, and made fun of him for it, and made fun of his daemon, too.
At the mention of his daemon, Jim's alter-Moriarty-awakens, and planned revenge with the help of Reddington who suggested "something simple." Moriarty decided to use botulinum poison to kill him through the use of eczema medicine after he observes Carl using it after gym one day, and realizes that the skin cream must have some sort of chemical that aids the absorption rate of the medication into the skin, and decides to use botulinum so that the boy's nerves will lock up and he will "drown" accidentally when they go on a field trip to a local London pool where Carl drowns.
He then takes his shoes because Moriarty wants to remember it, although Jim has no idea.
Before this time, Reddington gets a hold of him and teaches him the ways of crime, since he can see it is not going to go away in the young boy's life.
~EXCERPT FROM STORY~
So ever since she was little, Sierra has been dreaming repeatedly of a trifold mirror, in which she is forced by an unseen entity to stand in front of, the scenery around her dim and bleak, a holding cell of sorts that offer no pity nor kindness. As she stares into the mirror, she sees that in the middle her reflection is the same, but as she looks from side to side she sees that in the left mirror her clothes are gone, her stance is a defensive curl and her face is hidden behind a curtain of dark hair. As she looks to the right, she sees that her clothes are intact, but this time she is wearing business attire, her white blouse soiled with a mixture of dried brown blood and fresh crimson stains and she instinctively knows that neither are hers.
~EXCERPT FROM STORY~
In this dream, Sierra found herself in the middle of vast tundra, not unlike the outskirts of her native country Texas. She was dressed up as if she were going to work, wearing a scarlet red blouse, jeans, and boots, but her badge and gun were gone. She spent a second searching for them on her person, but after not finding them she gave up and continued walking cautiously. The sun above beat down on her laboriously, yet she didn't even work up a sweat. Libertas was nowhere to be found; and although Sierra could not see her, she could still somehow feel her presence as the Witches do with their bird daemons.
She continued her trek, her mind supplying her with the one command she needed to follow: find.
'find what?' she thought, the intensity to find whatever it was she was looking for doubling and tripling as she passed more and more dead brush and dry rock. Up ahead of her she could see a small patch of green grass growing in a small, tight circle around something that was too far ahead for her to make out entirely. Fire ignited in her bones at that moment, energy coursed through her veins like lightning and without knowing why, she ran as if someone's life depended on her to reach it. The scenery blurred past her in her haste until she stopped short in front of the mysterious object that seemed to bring at least a little visible life to the desolate tundra she stood in.
It was a shamrock plant, she realized, and a rather odd one too, as she noticed that each of the three petals bore a distinctly different shade of green-one was yellow-green, one was a deep, emerald green, and the last one was brownish-green, as if it were dying and threatening to spread to the other two. She kneeled in front of the plant and touched each of its petals with tentative, light touches, especially careful around the sickly looking one, afraid to damage the entire plant and destroy what good had been made to sustain such a desolate place.
'take it.' a male, Irish voice whispered softly into her ear. She turned to see the owner of the voice, but no one was there. Remembering his words, she grabbed the bottom of the stem and plucked it from the ground. Suddenly the small circle of green began to expand before her eyes until she could look around and see no more dry cracked earth, but luscious green grass, bushes, trees, flowers, everywhere she looked as if a veil had been lifted. She impulsively pressed a feather-like kiss to each petal, feeling as if she were a child again, hoping with all her might that the third and most in danger of dying would heal as she kissed it as well.
'thank you.' said the voice from before as she cradled the shamrock in her hands.
Sierra awoke with a start and sat up ramrod straight in her bed, panting as though she had just finished taking down a fleeing suspect. The large, furry white creature curled up next to her lifted its head and stared at her for a minute before speaking.
"Was it the same one?" the Arctic wolf asked quietly, sympathetically sweeping her tail minutely from side to side, ready to crawl into her human's lap if so needed.
"No." Sierra replied, her hand involuntarily reaching out to curl into her daemon's scruff. She took another deep breath and forced her muscles to relax as she leaned forward to prop her elbows onto her thighs.
"Libertas," she breathed, "I had a different vision this time."
Libertas immediately stilled, her tail swept up by her hind legs as she waited for her to explain. Sierra looked up into her daemon's brown eyes which bore the exact hue as hers and began to explain in detail of what she had experienced.
"What do you think?"
Libertas' tail swept back and forth as she thought, and then, "I believe it's connected with the other vision."
"How so?"
"Well, the motif of the number three is a repeating figure," Libertas explained, "I believe that it is connected-your vision involving the trifold mirrors and this vision of the shamrock, although I'm not sure how. You said the voice sounded as if he were Irish?"
Sierra nodded.
"Well, the shamrock is the national flower of Ireland," Libertas explained, "and if he's Irish, then it makes sense."
"I couldn't have made that up, could I?" Sierra asked wearily, a shaky hand pushing back curly tendrils of hair away from her face, "It just sounded so real, as if someone else was with me. I could feel him whisper it like he was standing next to me, but when I turned to look there was no one there."
"It is entirely possible that you did not make it up." Libertas assured her.
Sierra sighed wistfully, "It was a lovely voice," she murmured, "I don't think I'll forget it any time soon."
Libertas chuckled, "No, I reckon you won't, not with your love of that particular accent. Isn't that why we moved to Brytain in the first place?"
"You and I both know that ain't true." Sierra drawled, smacking her playfully with a pillow and settled back into bed for the night, "Alright, we have a big day tomorrow, let's get some sleep."
The two Texan gals curled back up together in bed, and did just that.
~EXCERPT FROM STORY~
The lab was rather quiet and void of conversation, but where words were lacking, the shuffling of papers, scratching of pen on paper and the ever present hum of the air conditioner filled in the need for sound as Sierra walked back into the room with a tray full of drinks for the group.
She carefully placed each order in front of the individual on their dominant hand's side before sinking into her chair with her own cup of hot chocolate. No one said a word, nor did anyone even look up from their work, except their daemons, but it was expected. There was now a fourth homicide victim in their case and they only so much time before another woman would be murdered. Libertas sat on her haunches next to Sierra as the Texan held the most recent crime scene alongside the previous three in her lap, allowing the white wolf daemon to get a better look.
Sierra examined the photos repeatedly, raking her eyes over the pictures before closing her eyes and focusing on the crime scene again just as she had when she visited them earlier today while simultaneously writing down information relevant to the victim in her notebook, her eyes never leaving the scene of the crime and her writing never leaving the confines of the lines. With her focus solely on the pictures, she couldn't see the curious eyes watching her hand with mixed reactions ranging from awe to jealousy. After she finished, she looked up and blinked as she realized she was being watched by the group.
"I believe I have a profile built," She announced, turning to the side of the table that contained Lestrade and his officers as well as Sherlock, "Did ya'll receive my profile on the Victimology earlier today?"
"Yes, we did," Greg answered as he pulled out a file from his briefcase, "I made copies like you asked." He quickly passed out the extra files and motioned for her to proceed in explaining the Victimology.
Sierra stood up and placed her palms on the table, looking down at the paper for a brief second before meeting everyone's eyes. "Alright. The Victimology says that our unsub is looking for single, brunette, Caucasian women between the ages of 25 to 30. So far, these women have proven to be low-risk, meaning their jobs don't typically lead them to be targeted."
"Take Amanda for example," she picked up the second victim's file, "she was a preschool teacher. Beverly," she put Amanda's file down and picked up the most recent victim's file, "was a dentist. Hannah was an accountant and Marie worked as a real-estate agent."
"Each of these women proved successful in their careers, and lived alone. Each murder took place at random times during the day, which means that whatever job he has must allow him to take enough time to murder them. He also knows these women, but not in the conventional sense. He watches them, studies them, and waits for the opportunity to strike."
"How do you know that he's watching them?" Anderson asked with a slightly upraised hand. Sherlock rolled his eyes grandiosely and was about to point out the reason why when John looked at him and placed a discreet but heavy hand on the taller man's knee under the table, effectively shutting him up. Sierra gave John a soft, grateful smile before continuing.
"Well, this unsub is highly organized," Sierra explained, "He even brings a murder kit with him when he's ready to kill-the tape, rope, and knife. An organized killer like ours will not strike unless he knows he will be safe to kill her. So he watches, and waits, and learns her schedule to the 'T' and picks out the most convenient time for him to strike."
"You said the suspect's job allows him the liberty to kill these women," Jim said after there was a slight pause in conversation, "what kind of job are we looking at then?"
"Well," she replied, "certainly not a desk job- that is for sure. So something that deals with wheels, and can still come off as inconspicuous to the neighborhood."
She paused, tilting her head in thought before she continued, careful not to look at Molly, "Also, as ya'll have probably noticed, our unsub is focused on a particular kind of victim in order to live out his fantasies. A woman in his life, much like our victims, was probably the trigger-the reason why he started killing, however it is still not clear as to why he is doing so."
"Alright," Lestrade said as he gathered his papers, "How about we have a fifteen minute break and get back to work right after?"
No one objected, and in the matter of minutes humans and their daemons were out the door. Sierra span lazily around in her chair for a moment as she waited for everyone to clear out, and stopped spinning as she realized that Jim had stayed behind.
"Howdy." She said, watching Kertoja hop to the other end of the table and splinter away from them with Libertas at her side as Jim sank into the seat next to hers.
"Hey." He replied, tapping a couple of notes onto the cup he held in his hands with his index finger, "thanks for the coffee."
She gave a little half shrug, "I figured ya'll would need it, with this case eating everyone alive as it is."
"That was still really thoughtful," he pressed, his eyes focused on Kertoja as the magpie flew down to the floor with Libertas. "It must be very difficult, though."
"How do you mean?"
"Well," He drained his cup of its contents and crumpled it in his hands, "you're always thinking of others, and yet it seems that no one seems willing to return the favor."
She stared down at her clasped hands as they rested in front of her on the table. "I'm not after gaining favors, Jim."
He would have scoffed if he hadn't seen the sincerity in her words. Mr. Mancala's words drifted back to him, even after all the years that had passed and he repressed a shudder.
"When someone does something nice for you, you are automatically required to do something nice for them back. That's how it works."
"Just what exactly are you after?"
She looked up at him for a second before looking towards her daemon who was staring right back at her, her tail wagging and her tongue flopped to one side of her sharp toothed mouth.
"I think I've got everything I could ever want, right here in this room." She replied, shooting him a smile before getting up and heading towards the door with Libertas already at her side. He watched her leave the room, and tilted his head in thought as Libertas glanced over her shoulder and looked him directly in the eyes. He could have sworn he'd seen her wink at him.
~EXCERPT FROM STORY~
The man (nameless) tells Jim that since he brought the clothes for him, he now owes him. Jim asks what he owes the man and the man says a favor, or something in return. Jim says okay, like what? And the man says to dress him. So Jim agrees. This is a continuing thing between the two-the man gets something for him(even if Jim doesn't ask for it) and demands that Jim owes him.