Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1782940.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV), Sherlock_Holmes_&_Related_Fandoms
  Relationship:
      Jim_Moriarty/John_Watson
  Character:
      Dark_Jim_Moriarty, Dark_John_Watson_-_Character, Mentions_of_Sherlock
      Holmes, Mycroft_Holmes, Sebastian_Moran, Other_possible_characters
  Additional Tags:
      Kidnapping, Torture, Violence, Major_Character_Injury, Love, Consensual
      Underage_Sex, 16_Is_Legal_Age_in_Great_Britain, Same-Sex_Marriage, Blood,
      Angst_with_a_Happy_Ending, Fluff_and_Smut, Triggers
  Series:
      Part 3 of Little_Fallen_Angel
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-06-14 Chapters: 1/? Words: 1780
****** J. Moriarty ******
by MissWitchy
Summary
     Two years have past. Things get worse before they get better. Panic
     turns to anger and someones going to pay. DEARLY!!!
Notes
     Heres the first chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. I am editing this
     on my own so I apologize for any errors.
      
     xoxo
     06/14/2014 Edited for grammer errors and reposted
Two years. John still couldn’t believe it had been that long since that night
in the warehouse and his subsequent marriage proposal. It had been two and a
half years since Jim had saved him off the streets. Things were so different
now. Jim had accepted his offer of marriage even though the man had stated that
it wasn’t necessary to go to that extent if it was only his last name that John
was after. John had silenced his protests with a solid kiss and then promptly
informed the man that he was going to marry his ass whether he liked it or not.
Jim had giggled and then shyly told him that he would in fact be honored. 
After that, Jim had insisted that John learn every aspect of the business. He
had told John that should something happen to him or if he was simply too busy,
he would know what to do and how. John had been told that self-reliance was key
and becoming a shadow in the background that pulled the strings was essential.
He had been shocked at the size and scope of Jim’s empire and influence, only
to find out that very few had ever seen the man. He was truly a shadow. John
spent months learning how to safely hack into the infamous CCTV network as well
as every other firewalled information hub on the planet. At the end of two
years, John was as good a hacker and manipulator as Jim. Not only that, but in
the last two years he had become one of the top snipers next to Sebastian and
had earned himself a reputation for being a merciless “interrogator”. No one
ever expected a sixteen year old to be the vehicle of his or her demise.
Jim had told him that night that a tip was sent to Sherlock’s brother and that
the man would be found. He hadn’t lied; Sherlock was indeed found and rescued.
However, for some reason John couldn’t keep away. He had to see what was the
outcome of everything he had done to the man, he had to see that it was truly
life altering. So every month or so, he made his way to Baker Street to visit
the invalided once great consulting detective. He always made sure that the
cameras were off and that there would be no surprise visits from big brother of
course and always went in disguise. He would regale the man with stories of all
the crimes he was planning as well as brag at how there was now no one around
to stop him. He did most of the talking during those visits, since the little
stunt with the torch lighter had left Sherlock without the ability to
communicate in an intelligent manner. John always giggled when the man would
try to shout or complain or some other such nonsense and only manage to slur a
few drool-laden syllables. He was truly a mess and a shadow of his former self.
This pleased John to no end. The once proud man was now bound to a wheelchair,
unable to even do the simplest of experiments. John took morbid delight when
the man needed assistance to the restroom during his visits and only received a
raised eyebrow. Of course, the smell would always drive John out of the flat
early, always laughing as he went. Sherlock sat day after day, usually alone,
no longer able to occupy or stimulate his big brain. This was his death, slow
and agonizing just as John had intended it to be.
Jim didn’t mind his visits as much as John thought he might. He seemed to know
that John needed to have something to entertain him and rubbing it in
Sherlock’s face that the man could no longer do anything to him, seemed like a
good form of amusement. Of course John got a monthly dose of lectures and
warnings from his fiancé to be careful and not get cocky. He was reminded
frequently about being a shadow, an unknown face. John would always roll his
eyes and tell him that he was fine and knew what he was doing. Of course John
never let on just how much of what Jim told him and warned him about really
sank in. He never wanted to do anything that would risk any harm to Jim and
even Sebastian.
                                    ~ * ~ 
John smiled to himself as he buttoned up the crisp white shirt that had been
laid out with his grey suit. His mind drifted to Jim, who was dressing in
another room. Their relationship had taken a hit two years ago, but since then,
they worked at being honest with each other and always telling the other if
they didn’t quite understand the other’s actions. To criminals and those that
sought to destroy them, they would have appeared to have gone soft and so
easier targets. However, that wasn’t the case for he and Jim. If anything,
their closeness and openness served to make them fiercer and more deadly. 
Together they were stronger and more powerful, a force to be reckoned with.
Things still weren’t perfect but then they never are in real relationships.
Looking in the wardrobe mirror John admired the cut of his suit and hoped that
Jim liked it too. He had the typical butterflies that came to anyone about to
get married, but they weren’t as bad as most since he and Jim had been together
for so long. John looked forward to sharing the man’s name; it felt like a
stamp of permanent ownership. He was Jim’s and Jim was his. JM. It was as if
they were becoming one being not just in body and mind but now also in name.
Complete.
John shook his head, checked his watch and headed out of the bedroom. It was
time to go. Walking past his old room, John smiled again at the memories the
room held. Today was definitely a day for smiles. Jim was waiting for him at
the bottom of the stairs. John paused half way down; the man was stunning! Jim
wore a black bespoke suit with a tie covered in tiny grey skulls. His hair was
combed back and he had let the stubble on his chin grow out just enough to
darken. But most of all, the most beautiful part of the whole picture was the
soft chocolate eyes and the brilliant smile. These were the things that were
meant only for John and he cherished them. John couldn’t keep his own smile
from broadening as he ran down the rest of the stairs. He wanted so badly to
throw himself in the other man’s arms, but didn’t want to risk putting wrinkles
in the suit. He would do plenty of that later.
Jim chuckled deeply and nuzzled John’s neck, seemingly picking up on his train
of thought. “Oh don’t worry love. I don’t plan on being in this thing long
enough to worry about the wrinkles.”
John exhaled deeply, trying to get his body under control. God the things this
man’s voice could do to him. “Should we go daddy?” he asked with little panted
breaths. Jim took his hand and led him out the door to the waiting limo.
They sat quietly, holding hands, as the car made its way to the small chapel
they had decided to have a ceremony in. Since things couldn’t be done in the
normal way because of the government and the fact that they were consulting
criminals, it was decided a ceremony without a license would be sufficient and
later Jim would hack into the system and change what needed to be changed. John
H. Watson would cease to exist and John H. Moriarty would be born.
The turn needed to get to the chapel came and went, and John grew nervous.
“Um…I think we passed our turn,” he said trying to keep his voice even. What if
Jim finally changed his mind and didn’t want to marry him. Jim squeezed his
hand and smiled softly at him. “It’s ok love. I have a surprise for you,” he
told John in a soothing voice, “No worries, you will be my husband before the
day it out.” John sighed and leaned back further into the seat. What a relief
to know that he was worrying for nothing, still he was left apprehensive.
As they neared the airport, John’s apprehension faded to excitement. He had
never been on a plane and he had never been out to the greater London area.
“Where are we going,” he asked nearly bouncing off the seat. “The Isle of Man,”
Jim proclaimed with a chuckle. John squealed and clapped his hands. Even though
he was no stranger to murder, even by his own hand, or pain, he still couldn’t
quite leave behind the part of himself that was pure child. John was about to
ask another question when the car pulled up beside a small aircraft. Private
Jet by the looks of it. John sat staring, jaw hanging open. 
“Come on silly boy, let’s get going,” Jim laughed, pulling him from the car,
“we have a wedding to get to.”
John pulled himself together and followed Jim up the stairs into the plane. It
was all lovely fabrics and polished wood on the inside. There was a couch on
one side under a row of windows and two chairs with a table in the middle on
the other side of the plane. There looked to be a bedroom of sorts in the back
along with a private loo. “We’ll be there with in the hour,” Jim said pulling
John’s attention back to him as they collapsed on the couch. John curled up
next to him though he tried to not wrinkle his suit.
The flight took just under an hour like Jim had said. John bounced down the
stairs only to come to a screeching halt. He could see the ocean and smell the
salt air. It was magnificent; he had never seen anything so lovely. John closed
his eyes and committed the smell to memory. Already this was turning out to be
the best day of his life. He opened his eyes when he heard a soft laugh behind
him. John spun around and flung his arms around Jim’s neck.
“Oh thank you Daddy!” he exclaimed, planting kitten kisses along the older
man’s jaw. “Your welcome baby boy,” came the lilted reply across his ear.
“Anything for my husband.” Husband. John loved the sound of that title rolling
off Jim’s lips. Yes, soon he would most certainly be Mr. John Moriarty. 
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