Part Three- Raine Aigle

Four Years Ago

James Moriarty put on the fake persona with easy as he entered the lab prepared to meet the one and only Sherlock Holmes. For a long time now, Holmes had been an interest in him. He helped put away Peter 'The Carver' Verown, and he helped cover up Ginevra Lorraine's murder of Connor Waite. That was enough to get his initial attention, but he had been watching him, following him. He was brilliant, and maybe, he was the distraction he needed.

However, he didn't get a chance to really meet him before a rather fiery psychiatrist interrupted them, and suddenly, Jim's interest in Sherlock Holmes was over shadowed by the psychiatrist. There was something off about her but also something familiar, something that he couldn't put his finger on but something that made his blood pump and pound in his ears. He could feel himself losing control of his persona. It was madness, but it was the best kind. The kind he yearned to taste. So when she left, he immediately followed.

It shouldn't have surprised him when she figured it out within an instant that he was dangerous. She pinned him to the elevator despite her small size, and God was it a turn on. But then to his utmost surprise when he revealed himself she looked shocked. The recognition confused him but intrigued him.

He pulled her close; he breathed her in. Lavender. That was familiar. Some of his best days were filled with the scent of lavender. Even better, his nights were filled with lavender. It wasn't a scent he could easily get rid of, and it followed him and clung to his mind as she showed up at the pool, and she told him. She told him: "Never wandered in the shadows, James. That's where the wolves roam."

And it came back to him so easily. Ginevra Lorraine, who had once been Raine Aigle.

The chances of running into her again were astronomical, but he should have known. A face he couldn't place, a scent that made his head swim. He could never read her no matter how well he knew her. He felt his blood pounding again wanting to shake her out of this state to bring Raine back, but he knew what Robert Verown, Mycroft Holmes, and Damon O'Hera had done. He knew that the chances of Raine lingering in her were slim. Yet, there was something unhinged about her, something familiar.

So even when he left the pool, his mind was on her. Could he bring Raine back, and if so how? Was she even in there, or was he seeing what he wanted to see? He needed to speak with her, needed to see if Ursa was still there somewhere, anywhere. She was the only woman he had ever in some retrospect cared for.

So he, in a less than polite fashion, invited her to dinner. He played with her, toyed with her, provoked her, and she didn't disappoint. He could see a shade of Ursa's madness making him leap at the chance to do something.

He found, however, she was guarded. Holmes was fond of her and she of him, and it made him sick. However, it was useful. She could destroy him if he could bring Raine back, but it had to take a push, a big push, and that lead him to Peter Verown.

Jen was still Raine, and both would give their lives for those they cared for. Peter was one of the few that both cared for, and he was one of the few that could draw out the worst in his sister, and by the worst, he could draw out Raine once more.

So he set it up. He put a doubt of who he was in her mind; he took care to give her his jacket as a reminded, and he made sure she was watched over. He made sure she knew he meant no harm to her, and it would throw her in confusion. Peter would do the rest.

So even as he stood on the rooftop ready to pull a gun from his waistband and end his life, he could smell lavender making his head swim and his blood pound in his ears. He would die, and she would live. He pulled the trigger.

"So Ursa is Jen?" John asked trying to clarify everything, but it wasn't so easy. It was never so easy.

"Yes and no," Sherlock replied finding the proper way to explain the difference between Jen and Raine. "Jen and Raine Aigle are Ginevra Lorraine, but Jen and Raine Aigle are not the same. Physcially yes, but mentally, no."

"I don't understand," John answered trying to follow.

"Dissociative personality is a defense mechanism," Robbie told him. "Raine existed because Ginevra couldn't handle the life she lived in nor did she like herself."

"Neither Jen nor Raine are Ginny. They're both personalities... in a way," Sherlock added. "Ginevra Lorraine hasn't existed since Raine has."

"Ursa is the sinful, chaotic desires she shouldn't feel, and Jen is the opposite. She's loyal to a fault and desires a peace that doesn't exist. Neither of them are my sister in a whole. My sister is both people together. She uses Ursa as an outlet for all the things she doesn't want to feel. My sister has been trampled on by the people who she loves. Raine is her solution. You think she would have put up with Peter? Peter was terrified of Raine."

"So this was caused by Peter?" John asked.

"No," Robbie answered. "Raine has existed before Peter showed signs of psychosis. It was just a little at first: outbursts in class, hitting, disregard of her elders, but it got worse. She was eight, right before mum disappeared, when it got really bad. Irene and her just went at it, and," Robbie shook his head recalling the painful memories, "Ginevra would have killed her if mum hadn't pulled her off her. Didn't remember any of it."

"She's ill though, Ginevra," Sherlock looked to Robbie for confirmation. "Outside of the obvious multiple personalities. Ursa is a psychopath with a lust of a serial killer. If Raine is part of Ginevra's personality-" Robbie nodded and cut him off.

"It wasn't until she killed Connor Waite that there was a definite split, one you couldn't ignore. They became two completely separate people. She got a rush from killing him, and her conscience weighed heavy because of it. It literally split her in two. Of course, that was with Christopher Blacks help."

"Christopher Black?" Sherlock asked letting the name become ash in his mouth. Real or not, he disliked the idea Jen being with anyone who wasn't him.

"She's talked about him I'm sure," Robbie mused.

"No," John replied at the same time Sherlock answered, "Yes."

"Who was he?" John asked Sherlock.

"Her lover," he answered bitterly.

"Her maker," Robbie replied in kind. "He taught her how to succeed in the art of killing. When she would get better, he would pop back up and drag her back into that life. He would break her."

"But she killed him," Sherlock retorted, but Robbie shook his head.

"She killed an imaginary man, Sherlock," Robbie told him sympathetically. "Christopher Black never existed. Mycroft, Damon, and myself managed to trick Jen into believing she killed Ursa. It was the closest we could get to helping her, but Christopher was resilient. He met her again, and he was determined to rip Ursa back out of her. So he bribed the parole to let Peter out at his next hearing, told Peter exactly what to do; he left Gina a memento to remind her of their time together: a jacket. The crushing weight of Peter's death and this link, the jacket, all lead to the eventual reincarnation of Ursa." Sherlock felt the lump in his throat grow as he put together the connections he was missed. It was obvious; he should have realized.

"Moriarty," Sherlock started but couldn't finish. It made his stomach churn. Jen had described him as the only other man she had loved, and that man was Moriarty. He wanted to be sick, but he pushed it aside as he always did. Robbie nodded.

"Gina loved Christopher Black," Robbie nodded, "but Christopher Black never existed. It was just a mirage she created to prevent her from seeing the truth. Christopher Black's real name is James Moriarty." The room suddenly seemed to thicken with silence as the two men who thought they knew Ginevra Lorraine comprehended this information.

"Moriarty?" John asked unable to say anything else.

"Yes," Robbie said.

"He said he had plans," Sherlock told him exhausted by all this information. He should have known; he should have seen it. "He wanted Ursa back."

"Yes," Robbie replied again. "He hoped he could throw off Gina enough to get Ursa back, and if he was alive, he'd be celebrating his victory."

"Have you tried just telling her?" John asked.

"Once, and it ended badly," Robbie told them. "She won't listen; she thinks their working for Ursa in the end if anyone tries to tell her, try and make her see. Don't you understand? She's the perfect creation; anyone who doesn't believe Gina is on Ursa's side."

"Then what do we do?" John asked.

"We let her live in her delusions," Robbie answered in something of a pained moan, "and we lock her up if we can get our hands on her, and if not... there's only one other alternative." There was silence again as the idea of death sank in. Sherlock wasn't a fool to believe she would be easily captured meaning her death, and even if the woman he knew was nothing more than a shell of Ginevra Lorraine, he couldn't let that happen.

"No," Sherlock said refusing that answer. "No, I refuse to allow that to happen."

"She has to die," Robbie told him firmly though he didn't look pleased with the assessment.

"No," Sherlock said stubbornly. "I refuse to let her die; she is the only woman I will ever love, and I won't let her die just because she's a bit mad."

"What do you plan to do?" Robbie asked tired with this. What would Holmes do that he hadn't already tried? He tried everything to protect her.

"I'm going to tell her the truth and make her see reason."

"Sherlock, Gina isn't Ginevra," Robbie pleaded. "Ginevra is a mix of Raine and Gina's qualities. If she sees reason, if she decides you're telling the truth by some miracle, you won't have Gina back. You'll have someone else, someone you likely never met."

"Any part of Ginevra Lorraine is worth saving," he answered. Maybe she wasn't real, maybe she was a fictitious person created by the real woman. But, maybe, just maybe the woman who created his Ginny was worth saving, and maybe just maybe, he would love her. He clung onto this hope; he didn't want to loose her. He could already feel his mind palace threatening to crumble under the knowledge of her apparent nonexistence.

"She'll shoot you," Robbie informed him.

"Then I died trying to save her, and that's not a bad way to die," he replied turning away. "I'll send you a text when I've retrieved her."

"It'll break her knowing," Robbie called after him.

"Then, I'll put her back together like a puzzle," Sherlock told him as he reached the door to the manor; this wouldn't be the end, "and I'll hold her together for the rest of my life if I have to."

A/N: Clearer? Yes, no? Maybe? Of course dissociative personality (aka multiple personality) disorder doesn't actually work quite this way, but I've sort of tweaked it to my liking.

Ah Moriarty, don't worry. That was just a very brief overview of what was going on with him. We'll see actual stuff later in the form of flashbacks! Hooray flashbacks! We'll have flashbacks upon flashbacks.

Thanks to reviewers: scarlet tribe, TinkerbellxO, hannahhobnob, swanrage, and zare . downey . okumura. See you all next Friday!