TheDarkestShinobi: part of this was a deleted scene for Demon, my Johniarty fic, but when I got the prompt confused this was the only thing I could think of until it was written, so here you are. Drama, Angst, Romance and some interesting Psychology. I guess there is a little Johnlock in here?

Prompt: Confused

Pairing: Johniarty

Sometimes John understands the truth of it all. He understands that Jim and Moriarty are two different people and will treat them as such; he will love Jim and fight Moriarty. Those are the best days; when John looks him up and down and can tell who he is. Sometimes John is confused at the changes, blames Jim for playing tricks on him, and yells and screams. He leaves and runs back to his home in Baker Street where Sherlock will wait with open arms.

The problem is that Sherlock loves him.

Jim's not threatened, neither is Moriarty, because with Sherlock's love came a desire to protect John, get him out of harm's way. Sherlock killed for John but it still wouldn't matter in the end because John craves danger and now that Sherlock hates putting him in it, it is just a matter of time before the dominos start to fall down. John realizes the changes and he doesn't like them, so he comes back. Sherlock loves John and John loves Sherlock, but John needs more than that. John needs him. Jim loves John with all that he is, just as Moriarty hates him. Jim offers John the best of love and hate and that's why John stays, it's why he leaves. And the fact that John does it makes Jim want him more, and it gives Moriarty a puzzle to solve. He hates John but he loves puzzles.

They love him and hate him, just as he loves and hates them.

It's perfect.

…

They've made love the night before, and Jim's body's still feels it, still shows it. Moriarty hates being in a used body so Jim will remain in control of it for another day or so pending events. When Moriarty comes back, he'll be angry Jim waited so long to wash it, but he doesn't care right now. Not when he can watch the back muscles and that gloriously hideous scar move as John does. Jim leans against the doorframe in the kitchen to watch John filling up the kettle. John starts looking through the tea to pick one and Jim licks his lips.

He's just making tea; a normal everyday activity and yet he couldn't take his eyes off of him. It's so strange. He's not doing anything particularly erotic; he's not firing a gun or administering medical aid. He's not wearing anything erotic; no army camo or sexy clothes, just a pair of worn boxers. His movements weren't sexy in any conventional sense. Washing his hands and then the kettle, filling it, starting the stove. Yet Jim could do nothing but stare. Watching John make tea like it was the most sensual thing in the world. He feels the tightness in his chest that only John brings to him in the same instant he feels a growing ache: the need to have him. John flicks his hands to rid them of excess water, ending the start up for the tea and Jim moves behind him, pressing against him and wrapping his arms around John's waist as John straightens.

"What are you doing?" John is tight and rigid under Jim's arms as if they hadn't been much closer only hours before. The back muscles tense under his chin and cause Jim to frown.

"Showing affection," he says softly as he goes to nuzzle John's shoulder, "surely it's returned." Unless Jim has read everything wrong, but he knows he hasn't. Today was a good day. John called him Jim, didn't jump from the bed in terror and is now making tea.

"No." John is firm and Jim stops nuzzling and rests his chin on John's shoulder. "We can't do this."

"Why not?" Jim mumbles into John's shoulder and barely resists the temptation to nibble on it, to scream Then why do you keep coming back?.

"Well, for one," and John smiles in a way even Moriarty realizes is dangerous, "you kill people." Jim whines, letting his arms drop, he leaves his head against John's shoulder, unwilling to fully break contact.

"You kill people. Sherlock kills people. Moriarty kills people. I'm the only one here who doesn't kill people." John's hands grip the counter in front of him as he moves forward. Jim's head feels cold as he takes a step back, away from John. Jim wonders if he's going to be hit before this is over.

"You're a criminal." Big deal.

"You have an illegal weapon." Jim parries back, "Sherlock shot a man in front of you after your ex-wife shot him!" John lets out a short huff before shaking his head.

"You're the spider!" John turns quickly as he yells, leaving them both face to face. Jim takes a step back at Dr. Watson's anger. It's too much.

"You're Moriarty!"

You'd like that. Sherlock had said to him when he first found out. John can't admit it. You'd like that more than you'd ever like me. John does, but he can't. This is Moriarty-even when it's Jim it's Moriarty. John is a doctor, a soldier, how could he really end up with Jim Moriarty of all people?

Jim ignores that comment because he has to. He is not Moriarty. He isn't. He can't be. John knows Jim is fragile about the separation between the two. There is a difference, there has to be. Moriarty laughs in his head as Jim swallows. John continues, because John is a doctor and a soldier and he knows that you follow through. Whether it is killing a life or saving one, you don't stop until the job is done, and John has decided this isn't done yet. Jim feels like he's bleeding out, but he guesses that's not quite dead yet.

"You tied me to a bomb!" Even dying men jerk at the end and Jim feels his involuntary jerk twist his head to the side and speak.

"And I saved your life."

"You've had me in your snipers sight!" John yells and Jim knows it's true. It's all him, except it's not, its Moriarty. Moriarty isn't him; oh can John not see it? John only sees the good; does he not see Jim? Is there really no difference to see?

"I am simultaneously the safest and most dangerous person in the world." Jim says softly, because he is. He is defeated, but he has his last words right? Jim is as likely to jump in front of a bullet for John as Moriarty is to shoot him. "There was never anybody else for you Dr. Watson." It's true, but does John see that? Can he accept it? John's gaze turns into a glare. He can't.

You'd like that.

"I can't deal with you trying to kill me." Jim was so wrong. This is the fatal wound. There's the knife in his heart. He feels the blood rushing, the Oxygen leaving his body.

"It's not me! It's him!" Jim turns as if to look to someone next to him. "It's Moriarty." Jim sounds pained and desperate but John cannot listen to it.

"No! You are Moriarty!" Twist the knife. Jim takes a step back hitting the fridge. Moriarty's laughing and John's glaring. He thought he could be stronger, Jim feels his face burn as he turns away from John. John grows angrier, what kind of sick mind game is this?

"Get out."

"Gladly." John slams the door and Jim just slides to the floor, motionless. Eventually, Moriarty wipes Jim's tears off his face with equal parts disgust and glee. Now he gets to play with the good doctor, make him hurt and yearn and then run back to Jim. Now he gets to give Sherlock a puzzle and watch John and him lock eyes and get close only to ruin it because John belongs to Jim and therefore John belongs to him.

If only this body weren't so used. Blood, torture, disease, all amazing things but sex was the lowest of human nature; it turns off the brain flow and reveals too much emotion, plus, why get dirty? Moriarty shudders as he sheds his clothes and makes his way into the shower. It's time to think and play, the puzzle pieces are still quite a ways from fitting and he has as long as he wants.