Did Jim love you? More than anything. Did he want to give you everything you ever wanted? It shouldn't even be a question, of course he did. Was a fight about to break out, and would those two things come into play against his favor? Oh, most definitely.
You entered your home like any other day, only today you had one thing on your mind. A child. Children were one of those things that were just a sore spot for him. A very, very sore spot.
"Jim?" You knocked gently twice before gingerly opening the office door. Last time you hadn't, you found him in a terrible mood, nearly breaking his computer in half. So, this is what you opted to do instead.
"Yes, love?" He continued to type on the laptop, not really 'ignoring', yet not caring for your approaching presence. You slowly, gracefully, walked around the desk, allowing your finger tips to caress its glossy surface. That certainly got his attention. If there was one thing you knew for certain, it was how to turn on your lover. He shifted a bit, but cocked an eyebrow up, finally moving his gaze to you. He was a little shocked, but his eyes couldn't help but wander over your figure. One thing you never did was wear tights, and furthermore, tank tops. Too skimpy for your liking, but seeing as his bottom lips was tucked neatly under the other, Jim definitely did.
"Love, what're you doing?" He asked in an almost scolding manner, unable to draw his eyes away. Instead of answering, you gently sat down on his lap, twisting and twirling his tie ever so gently, pretending to be completely transfixed by it.
"Y/n? Are you listening? Y/n, dearest, what is going on here?" He never did like not knowing things. You slowly lifted your eyes to look into his, finally noticing how different he looked than normal, how his actions weren't that of the Jim you knew. He looked like a deer in the headlights, his heart always sped up around you, but this was different. This time it was pounding in sheer terror.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" You feigned total innocence, despite the compromising position. His eyes narrowed at you, before they peaked up a bit.
"This? Really? Now?" One eyebrow quirked up like they always did, and that's when your plan started to crumble.
"What ever do you mean?" You knew it was too late to fake your innocence in trying to deceive him, but it wasn't too late to seduce him.
"I mean that I know about your little plan. Really? A baby? Really?" He almost seemed upset at you, but made no move to remove you from your place. This was a hot topic between you both. Jim's point of view always being the same; children are horrible, but fathering a child is the absolute worst.
"Jim, I don't see why having kids is such a terrible thing! We got married when I was 22, and now it's been about six years. Six years since you promised that when the time arose-" he pinched the space between his eyes, like he was trying to relieve a headache, yet kept an arm firm around your waist, unwilling to let you fall.
"Darling, I said if-"
"Well too bad about your 'exact words' Jim! The time is here and I want to have a baby!" He forced himself to remain calm, composing all his emotions to the back of his mind. No need to deal with those now.
"Love, no, alright? I've said it once, and I'll say it again, we are absolutely not having a kid!" That was it. You freaked. One shred of normalcy to your insane life- that's all you asked- One little thing to make your life complete. A beautiful bundle of joy. You weren't asking for anything he'd have to waste time on, you expressed that you were perfectly capable of taking care of a baby alone, without him, and all he did was say 'The answers still no, y/n!' This, this was the last straw. You've stayed when he faked his death, when he let himself get beaten and tortured, when he got himself caught, and even when he decided to start this entire thing. You always did what Jim wanted. It was your time. In a raging fury you leapt from your spot, immediately slamming your foot to the floor like they were magnetized.
"AND WHY THE HELL NOT!?" Your anger had been boiling for a while now, this was just the lid blowing off, "BECAUSE IT'S ALL ABOUT JIM MORIARTY? Or is it because you just don't love me anymore?" His heart cracked at the thought, knowing very well that simply wasn't possible, "Because I'd rather you just tell me so I can stop wasting my time!" Black stained streaks, from eyeliner and mascara, ran down your cheeks, eager to make it to the perceived finish line. Jim's eyes widened in fear, both of not knowing what to do and the thought that you would leave. Then the sudden thought struck him...
"What do you mean 'wasting your time'? Of course I love you, not so sure we're even on the same page anymore!" Now he was mad as well. That was just great. Your teeth gritted in rage, tired of biting your tongue, of being just 'Moriarty's wife'. You were sick of just being an extension of Jim.
"I mean I want a child! And I wanted a child with someone I loved, and who loved me, that's 'what I mean'! What is so wrong with a baby, Jim? What's so wrong in having a family?!"
"Are you seriously still arguing this? Are you seriously that ordinary?" And there it went. Six years of love and joy- gone. He knew the moment he said it, he messed up. Because being ordinary, meant being normal. Being normal meant you and Jim- well, you just didn't belong.
"Love, that's not what I-"
"Shut it. I see how it is. I'll be gone by tomorrow, until then, enjoy the couch!" You stomped out of the office and your words caught up to his processing speeds. Three words echoing inside him, three words destroying him in a way only you could...
Gone by tomorrow
You were leaving...
Gone by tomorrow
He lost the only thing that ever mattered...
Gone by tomorrow
He lost you. You'd be gone by tomorrow, and he made the biggest mistake he knew he ever could.
Gone by tomorrow
It didn't take long for his broken shell to stumble down the grand stairs, to slump into the couch. Wasn't the first time this had happened. Heaven and hell only knew there would ever only be one woman that could force Jim Moriarty to sleep on the couch, but it had always almost been like a comfort to him. Because usually it meant some space, time to cool off, it meant that in the morning he'd wake up, apologies would be spoken, and then life would be perfect again. This time, it provided no such comfort. No. It was taunting him. But saying no would be better than giving in... Than having to watch in horror after life passed by and he realized he'd done the one thing he promised himself he'd never do. Hurt you. Mostly this meant physically, which you understood, he grew up in an abusive home. But you needed someone who wouldn't hurt you emotionally either, and well... He wasn't doing a mighty good job at that one either. His eyes shut, desperately hoping he'd wake up soon enough to talk you out of this, knowing he could never change your mind until you rested, cooled down a bit. And for a split second, in the purest darkness of sleep's trance, he found peace. And then, it was gone.

His mother screamed in pain as the blow landed against her cheek. His father swigged from the clear bottle filled with the goldeny-amberish liquid, harshly tilting it upward as it slid down his throat. The words his mother spoke time and time again echoed like a broken record;
This is all your fault, James!
We were happy, until you were born!
You caused all this pain to me!
The scene he had seen near daily for nearly sixteen odd years played out, a few more blows landing on the already bartered woman. He expected to be next. It's always how it played out. Instead, the tall man with sandy hair began to change, the drunk he knew as his father wasn't the only one to change though. The woman before him did, too. Even the perspective wasn't his own anymore, but from a different child he didn't know. His child. Instead of James' father mercilessly beating his mother, it was himself harshly beating his beloved. This is what happens when a child's added. And he didn't want to hurt y/n.
"Jim? Jim! JIM!"
Y/n!? No!
He promised himself he'd never...
Yet here he was, listening without a care as she pleaded for him to stop. He tried to block out the desperate cries, to make it all disappear... But the blows kept knocking her to the ground. He repeated each slap, punch, and kick, calling her nasty things, as she screamed for help. Pleaded for the man she loved back.

You came down to check on him. It sounds silly, considering, but you still loved the idiot, no matter what. You saw him shake and turn, mumbling near incoherently as you crossed into the foyer, blankets and a pillow in tow.
"Mother... Pain... My... Fault..." You couldn't understand what he was on about, but despite him always having nightmares, he never talked in his sleep. Ever. You continued to move towards the excited figure, carefully taking in each word he uttered.
"Da... Beating you... All... My... Fault...." He whispered, and you draped the blanket slowly over him, not wanting to startle him. You sat on the edge of the couch, not wanting to leave his side, taking his hand in yours. It was immediately pulled to his chest as if he knew it symbolized everything, even in his fast asleep state. It was still his safety blanket, still everything he held dear. His body kept twitching, turning this way and that. His Westwood would be in shambles in the morning, that's for sure. While the dream had seemed to distress him a bit, he didn't seem afraid. Not at that point, at least. When you really started to worry, it was after he said the clear line;
"Children... Ruin... Love..." It wasn't the line itself, but a change in him. The moment he said it, his body became stiff, and his already bleached skin seemed to be paler. His voice was barely audible, but you managed to hear it.
"Y/n!.. No, no! No!" His brows creased together. This was always bad. Whenever he feared for you, it was all the fear he had.
"Jim?" You spoke softly, attempting not to startle him as you gently shook his trembling figure. It was getting worse by the second.
"Y/n! No..." His voice kept getting shorter, but it was louder this time. His hands clamped tightly to his head, like he was attempting to shut out a painful noise, and he struggled, like he was being beat up...
"Jim! I'm right here, wake up! Please?" You pled, hoping he'd hear you in that mind of his, suddenly he started spazzing, and you couldn't just sit there anymore.
"JIM! Wake up!" Shortly after the shout, he jolted awake, his breathing staggered, his hands moved to cover his eyes, and they slowly slid down his face until he could confirm this was real. The moment he realized you were there, his hands cupped your face and he began to dart his eyes around, looking for any signs he had hurt you. His breath escaped him in a relieved sigh as he realized he didn't.
"Jim... Are you alright?" Your hands crept tentatively up to softly place on his right. He looked you in the eye, trying to decide. You were safe, but this didn't mean you wouldn't leave... That no longer seemed to matter though. His arms pulled quickly around you, hands rushing to cradle your head as it was buried into the soft suede of his jacket.
"I'm fine. Everything's fine. You're safe, and that's what matters." In this time you had seen the most human side of Jim you ever had. Yes, he loved you. You knew that. But he was an expert at hiding it, as he was with all his emotions. This, right now, his emotions guiding who he was, this just wasn't something you saw often. Ever, if we're being honest. But his words... They were stuck in your mind, fresh as morning dew.
"Jim? What does it mean? Children ruin love?" He visibly froze, unknowing where you'd heard that. He'd never say it out loud, especially to you. The full spiel was, of course, 'Children always ruin love, once a child's brought in, everything is completely worthless. It's your fault he hurts me, James! He used to love me! Then you were born and now look at me!' He'd be damned if he ever turned out like his father, especially when it came to you. No children, meant no pain. No meant no. Simple equation to anyone's mind.
"Nothing. It's just what my mother used to say. He never hurt her until I was born, so naturally it meant that I ruined their love. Simple function when you think about it." He liked to think people and all situations were completely linear. Or at least had the capability of functionality. These issues were just like math. Thing was, nothing's ever that simple.
"Jim! That's not true!" He was back to the cold, expressionless man, who simply hummed at your response, but there was something beneath it... A hidden emotion in his eyes as he stared away from you... Fear?
"Jim, what your dad did, it wasn't because of you. It was because he was an idiot. A goldfish, just like the rest of them. Your mum was wrong to blame you-"
"No, she wasn't." He didn't explain, just coldly continued, "But I refuse to hurt you. You are never going to be treated that way. I will not let it happen." Something in his voice was angry, like he was talking to someone, but when you followed his gaze, you only saw the window reflecting himself back to him. You may not be able to deduce as well as him and Sherlock, but even you could connect the pieces here. The last month's worth of arguments came flowing back, and you wondered how you didn't see it sooner...
"I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU!"
"IT WILL RUIN US, Y/N!"
"No means no!"
That's what all the weird arguments meant. He was scared, like a child begging not to be left in the dark, scared to turn out like his father. Just another mean drunk.
"Jim..." His eyes suddenly met yours, and again you saw the humanity behind his icy exterior. His big, dark eyes quaked with fear and worry, little droplets pooling at the pale skin base of his lid. Never in the nine, maybe ten, years you had known him, had you ever seen him cry.
"Oh, Jim." Your face was contorted with worry and pain, and he honestly feared you were about to leave him. People always left. Especially when they were shown weakness. To his surprise, you gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, the other took his hand again. You couldn't help a small smile crossing your lips.
"You're not him. Your mum was wrong. Having a child wasn't what caused him to start drinking, or start beating her. You know that, but you've been conditioned to believe otherwise. Jim, I know that'd never happen!" His eyes shone with a new understanding, a new belief, and he started to think it all over, "Because I know you. But if you don't want-" Your sentence was cut short by his lips on yours. The shock from the unexpected contact was short lived as your arms pulled around to hold him close. He broke it only a few seconds later, taking your hand in his much larger one, and pressed his lips to the back of it.
"Whatever you want, love. I'll give it to you. I promise."
"Even if I want you to give me a baby?" You asked rather innocently, but the implication was still there. In response he leaned over you, his lips on your cheek. His hands pushed your hips into the couch, leaning you back slowly and carefully.
"Oh, I will personally enjoy giving that to you."