Authors note: This is my first Moriarty/Moran fiction so please be nice and review. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Moriarty or Moran but must likely all the others *yay*
Of weddings and chance meetings
Jim was only sixteen when his whole life changed; it came as quite a surprised really. He was the youngest of three children from an alcoholic, abusive father and a young, feeble mother. His family was just about as poor as they came really. When his eldest brother was born his father was working as a successful real estate agent and his mother was in medical school training to become a doctor. When his second brother was born his mother had given up her dreams of being a doctor and had become a stay-at-home mum and the real estate market was starting to drop. By the time Jim was born his mother was absolutely miserable and his father had lost his job and had started to drink more and more as every night passed. With three kids his mother and father needed to pay the bills so Jim was left with his two brothers as a baby and they lived off the wages of a shop assistant and an office worker. As soon as Jim was old enough to understand his father had started to take his anger out on him, blaming Jim for the situation they were in. He would go out to the pub every night and then come home steaming drunk, go into Jim's room and beat him. His mother would always try to stop him but he would just hit her and tell her that this was her fault for having him and that she should have gotten an abortion. He was literally screwed from the moment he was born. Jim only just finished primary school without anyone finding out about his home life.
It was at the beginning of secondary school when Jim really noticed how different he was from everyone else. Sure, of course he knew he was smarter than them all, compared to them he was an absolute genius at the age of eleven. Because he was smarter than everyone else and they were, in his eyes, all complete idiots and not worth his time he would stay away from them. He was just so much better than them and he didn't want to waste his time on their inferiority.
During his second term at school some madman had broken in and had gone on a little killing spree. Jim had been in the library at the time when he heard the shot of a gun. He peered out from behind a book case and there stood a man all in black, smoking gun in hand, over the dead body of the librarian. While looking at the sight before him, Jim accidentally knocked a book off the case, which then drew the attention of the madman. When he looked back up the gun originally pointed at the librarian was now pointed at him. The sound of sirens from nearby sent the man running but not before giving Jim a small, creepy smile and a sloppy salute. Jim stepped out from behind the book case and went over to the librarian.
She lay on the floor lifeless, a pool of blood starting to surround her, turning her once crisp white shirt into that of a crimson one. The madman had done a good job of killing her, having shot her in the head exposing her brain; she would have died almost instantaneously. The sight of the dead body didn't scare Jim, instead it rather calmed him. She looked so peaceful, life could no longer touch her, harm her, she was free. The sight of her transfixed Jim, pieces of skull and chunks of brain covered the floor and ruby red liquid filled the top of her head covering her entire brain, well what was left of it anyway. Jim couldn't help himself; slowly he leaned forward and tentatively dipped his fingers in the blood. Something about the velvet red liquid soothed him, the sight of it on his fingertips, contrasting with his deftly pale skin, looked so natural. The sight of her corpse lying in a pool of her own blood was just so beautiful.
This was how the police found Jim, looming over the dead librarian, her blood on his hand. He wasn't crying and he didn't look scared or upset, emotions you would likely see a kid go through if someone had just been murdered before their very own eyes, no he looked rather content in all honesty; leaning over the carcass examining her head with cold interest. Jim was taken away from the dead woman on the floor, over to a paramedic who checked him for any injuries, an orange shock blanket placed around his shoulders. The next day he was taken to the police station to be interview over what had happened, him being a witness and all. While there, much to his parent's dismay, he was instructed to go and see a therapist over what he had witnessed. After a few sessions his therapist declared that he showed signs of being a psychopath which only ended in his father beating him even more. When he went back to school word had gotten around and he had been branded a freak. And that's how his life was from there on out, he was bullied at school and beaten at home, his life a living nightmare.
Now he was sixteen and the happy news had been delivered. His eldest brother, Stephen, him being twenty-six, was engaged to be married to Sarah Moran. The Moran's were one of the richest families around, so it would make sense that Stephen had never brought Sarah home to meet her soon to be family in law. This marriage, though, would hopefully provide Jim with some much needed abuse free time. The wedding itself was on the weekend a few days away and the wedding rehearsal was tonight. Jim had been given a good beating the night before and the bruises all over his body had become a bright purple-bluish colour. His father had been smart enough thought to not hit Jim's face or any other visible part of his body, so as not to draw attention to him.
Now Jim was dressed in a nice black suit, white shirt and black tie ready to leave for the rehearsal. Jim liked suits-and you had to admit he looked pretty darn good in one- they felt so natural on him and he always liked to look as nice as possible. He stood in front of the mirror in the dingy bathroom and slicked his hair back and then washed the gooey gel off of his hands. He then adjusted his tie, practised a fake smile-all teeth- , and made his way down stairs and into car to go.