When Luck Runs Out

Where is Brutus When You Need Him?

    "They'll want to see us together, I guarantee it, and Molly seems to think so too." I pointed out, holding up the index cards so he knew just what we were getting ourselves into.
"Oh, I haven't gotten my script yet." he sighed. "We're not supposed to memorize everything are we?"
"No, of course not. When I was up I just read directly off them, I didn't even look at the crowd." I shrugged.
"I remember that, you sounded just like a robot, it was really funny." John agreed. I sighed, tapping my fingers against the marble with annoyance.
"So everything I did when I was a tribute was considered first rate entertainment?" I asked. John nodded, and I couldn't help smile at his idiocy.
"So when did you come in last night?" John asked.
"Oh I don't know, maybe around midnight. I heard you screaming." I pointed out.
"I see why morphine is tempting." John agreed.
"You don't know the half of it, I was completely alone when I first got back." I defended.
"I guess that is worse. And you've got the mental state of a raisin." John decided.
"I'm not going to deny that." I agreed with a small smile. John just laughed, pushing his now soggy uneaten cereal away.
"I suppose I should go say hi to everyone." He decided.
"It may be the last thing you ever do." I warned.
"I've been through the Hunger Games, I'm sure a meet and greet couldn't be worse." He decided.
"I'll write your funeral hymn." I shrugged.
"Come on, you've got to come too, I'm sure the stylists will be here soon." John pointed out, getting up and grabbing my hand. I groaned, but couldn't stay here considering he'd pull my arm out of my socket before he left me here alone.
"You're a jerk." I decided, but followed like the obedient puppy I was. John led me outside once again, where I saw a camera crew fixing the weird portable camera to the stand. That was Capital technology at its finest, a camera that follows you around on a track, and yet the people in District Twelve have to mine for coal with pick axes. The snow had been shoveled from the sidewalks and plowed from the roads, but it was left on the grass and on the houses to try to make this place look homey. It was, for the most part, but they certainly wouldn't turn the camera around and let the audience see the frozen wooden shacks and the solemn sick people of District Twelve. Sometimes I wonder if the Capital was even aware of the miserable state our home was in, or even the Districts. The only thing they knew is that they get the coal from us, and that we have the worst tributes. But the past two years we've been pretty lucky, maybe even two lucky. Because all we've had was good luck, and luck goes both ways. The door was open to my house, which I suppose was home base for all of these miserable guests. I saw many familiar faces, or should I say many familiar tattoo and piercing monsters, which were the stylists of district twelve. Sara and Anthea both rushed out and gave us big hugs, which I thought was quite unnecessary, but they kept going on about how much we'd love the outfits they had planned. Of course I hated everything they put together, but since it was the Victor's tour not everything was going to be overdone and fancy, maybe casual suits and all that, to look nice but not obnoxious. We worked our way down the districts, and that meant District Twelve first, but since it was our own district we were only going to say a short speech about Irene in the square, but first we'd talk to Caesar over the stupid moving camera. Irene Adler, the tribute that had gone into the games with John, had been the snobbiest most obnoxious person I had ever had the displeasure of knowing, but since her family would be listening we had to say all positive things, how lovely of a girl she was and how much of a shame her death was. According to Irene, her parents were the head of the market, so we better say good things about her daughter or we'd find ourselves starving to death.
"John!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed as he walked into the door. She gave him a big hug, which he gladly returned, and she went on and on about how great it was to see him and all that.
"So, we've got about forty five minutes, let's get everyone all dressed up!" Sara decided. Since Molly was already dressed the stylists gave us our outfits, which, unfortunately, matched Molly's horrible, dress. They were two white suits with snowflakes on the ties, with little white flowers in the pockets.
"I don't mean to alarm you, but won't we all blend in with the environment?" I pointed out as I stared at myself in the mirror with distaste. John and I looked identical, which was cute as a couple dressing up thing, but Molly came along and matched as well, so she ruined it.
"Oh you all look so cute!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. She was wearing some sort of knit brown dress, which looked very warm and thankfully didn't match our pattern of snow and happiness. After fixing our hair and giving us makeup and drowning us with so much hair spray I was sure there was now a thin layer covering my entire face, the stylists let us go, brushing off dust and hairs from our clothes and looking pleased with themselves.
"They look lovely." Molly exclaimed.
"Get in with them, I'll get a picture." Mrs. Hudson pulled out her phone, making the three of us get in together and look like a big happy family. Molly and John smiled, but I remained expressionless because I didn't see anything to smile about. The Victor's tour was complete rubbish, only talking about dead people and trying to forget that those people had once tried to kill you. Mrs. Hudson sighed, but obviously she was used to me being the negative person I was, and didn't try to get another one.
"Ten minutes people!" Mrs. Watson announced. The three families were in the living room, knowing where their proper place was. Mycroft was looking quite sour, glaring at the floor as if the thought of his little brother being more famous then him was an absolute atrocity. Of course he wasn't working in the mines, but had taken over the management of one, telling everyone to do and what not. Mycroft felt very important, so of course he loved it and made sure to get a word in at every possible occasion. Sherlock also spotted Harry, John's sister, who looked massively unentertained, texting away on her phone. The parents were talking; the Watsons and my very horrible parents, but they all had a glassy eyed stare to them as well. John and I sat on the staircase, waiting for everyone to finally get on with it.
"So what exactly are we supposed to do?" John asked.
"Just answer Caesar's questions." I shrugged.
"I hate to inform you, but Caesar isn't there." John pointed out.
"Yes, but you'll hear his voice and see a little screen of him. Just smile and wave and act like it's your god given gift to be here." Sherlock shrugged.
"It's a nightmare." John pointed out.
"Literally." I agreed.
"Well, I suppose you had it worse." John shrugged.
"Indeed I did, so whenever you want to think that your life sucks, just remember mine." I laughed.
"I don't think you've got it that bad anymore, you've got me." John pointed out, taking my hand and interlocking our fingers. I smiled, feeling that little missing piece of me slide right into place. Hand holding was what we did all the time, it was our thing. It had all started in John's games, when I had heard him having a nightmare. I went into his room and he was extending his hand, so I didn't know what to do but to take it. Ever since then it calmed us down, it made us realize that we weren't alone in this battle and no matter how bad things get, we've always got each other.
"Okay, the camera is here, out you go John!" Mrs. Hudson decided coming and trying to herd John along.
"Good luck John." I decided, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before we broke apart.
"Oh I'm sure you'll be following him out shortly dear, don't get too comfortable." Mrs. Hudson warned.
"Of course not." I muttered, getting to my feet as well and walking John out to the door. He was taking slow steady breaths, practicing his smile and looking like some sort of psycho path.
"Alright, three, two, one, go!" Mrs. Hudson swung open the door and I heard a lot of cheering, no doubt from the audience at the other side of the camera. John smiled and waved, and I heard Caesar talking, but I couldn't tell what exactly he was saying. We closed the door right away though, so that they couldn't see what a wreck behind the scenes actually was.
"Well, what are you for Halloween, frost bite?" Mycroft arrived, standing next to me and peering out the window next to the door.
"Oh shut up, you're still in your pajamas." I defended.
"So that's really Caesar Flickerman on the other end?" he asked.
"Yes, but I'm sure they don't want to see your ugly face on live TV." I pointed out.
"Oh don't worry brother dear, I had no intentions of going out there." Mycroft assured.
"Oh, it burns you to not have fame doesn't it?" I teased.
"As I can see from your mental health, it burns you more to have it." he pointed out. Well, I couldn't argue with that.
"Sherlock, you're being summoned!" Molly exclaimed. I pushed Mycroft out of the way and, to my horror, saw John beckoning for me to come out. I cursed under my breath, making Mrs. Hudson slap me in the arm as she opened the door for me to be let out. I smiled as well, but I was looking at John, not the camera.
"There he is!" Caesar's voice rang out and the crowd cheered even more, as if my appearance had just made their lives. What simpletons.
"Hey Sherlock." John said with a smile.
"Hello world." I agreed, waving slightly and walking right up to John. He took my hand, of course, and there was more cheering and more excitement from Caesar. On the little screen I could see his stupid golden hair, probably a jab at our costumes last year, but he looked absolutely delighted to see our hands interlocked.
"Now Sherlock, how is it to have a Victor your first year of mentoring?" Caesar asked.
"Well, it's certainly more populated over here." I shrugged. The crowd laughed right alongside Caesar and his stupid fake laugh, but I merely smiled.
"It's great; I don't know what I'd have done without John." I decided.
"How is it being neighbors?" Caesar asked.
"We're always at each other's houses, preferably mine because it's a lot cleaner." John pointed out with a little laugh. I did my best to look offended, but it was the undeniable truth.
"I'm sure after that picture hit the internet nothing was the same for you two, how was it facing your parents on the subject of your relationship?" Caesar asked.
"At that point there was nothing they could do to stop it, but they were fine with it." John shrugged.
"After all we've been through even the most stubborn of mothers can't deny their kids happiness." I agreed. The crowd awed, as if that were so adorable, and Caesar wiped a fake tear from his heavily painted eye.
"Are you looking forward to mentoring together?" Caesar asked.
"It'll be a great change from worrying about him than actually knowing we're in no immediate danger." I decided.
"I have a strange feeling I'll be doing all the work." John decided.
"You did most of the work when you were a tribute; I just supported you from a distance." I agreed with a small laugh. Of course the stupid audience thought it was a lot funnier than I did, because they exploded with terrible laughter that made me cringe.
"Tell me now, what exactly sparked this love?" Caesar asked. I couldn't help but blush, I didn't really want the entire world knowing about our love life, but it was an undeniable question.
"Well, I know this idiot was taken with me the moment our eyes met..." John started.
"Oh that's a lie!" I defended.
"I was joking." John assured. "For me I could tell there was something different on the last day, I knew we were friends, but he was so somber about the idea of me going to my death."
"And Sherlock, were you the first one to express your feelings?" Caesar asked.
"When he was leaving in the tube." I agreed. The crowd awed again.
"What exactly did you say?" Caesar asked. John and I exchanged embarrassed glances, wondering if we should tell the truth or cheese it up a little bit, for the pleasure of the crowd.
"I just told him that I would miss him and that he had helped me through some tough times, and that through the course of the week I had fallen in love with him." I admitted the sad truth. This time there was actually a tear to wipe away, and from what I could hear the whole crowd was reduced to tears. Pathetic really, it was only a couple of sentences.
"And John, what was your reaction?" Caesar asked.
"I told him that I knew, but it was through the actual games, when I said that I 'agreed' that I admitted it myself." John admitted.
"You two really are the perfect match." Caesar decided.
"Oh you have no idea how much of a pain this one is." John laughed, jabbing me in the side with his elbow. I would have kicked his legs out in any other situation, but I just laughed and nodded as if that wasn't something I'd beat him up for saying.
"Oh stop it, you know you love me." I insisted.
"God help me I do." John agreed. On any other circumstance we would've shared the smallest of kisses after that sentence, but then again, camera.
"Well, I wish you two the best of luck on the tour, and I'm sure I'll see you around again, with all this publicity." Caesar decided.
"That's the last thing we need." I muttered, but John just smiled and nodded, as if he were honored to be on the Capital's radar 24/7.
"Well, I'll let you get to I then, and just so you folks know the tour is televised on Capital TV for the whole week, so you can tune in to these love birds whenever you would like!" Caesar announced. Oh, brilliant, the Sherlock and John show, featuring our dysfunctional lives. We smiled and waved, and Caesar said goodbye, and with that the camera went black.
"Really John, I'm a pain?" I asked, jabbing him in the ribs as well.
"Right now you definitely are." John agreed, rubbing his side with annoyance.
"God I hate the Capital, they'll sob over just about anything." I decided.
"Well they've got the intelligence level of a chipmunk; of course they'll fall for that crap." John insisted.
"It's not crap, is it?" I asked.
"Of course not, but admitting our feelings and telling our story on live TV, that's all crap." John assured.
"You've got that right." I agreed with a small smile, holding his hand and leading him back to the house through our already imprinted snow tracks.
"That was brilliant sweeties; we watched it on the TV!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed.
"Oh, brilliant." I groaned, pushing past her into my house.
"Now we have to be at the square at one o'clock, and from there we'll get the train and go to eleven." Molly decided, reading off a little schedule she printed and color coded with neon highlighters.
"Molly, we'll be fine, now get me out of this horrid suit." I decided. The stylists had been planning on keeping the two of us in these stupid costumes, but after loud protesting they agreed we could change back into our normal outfits if we promise not to fuss too much. Of course I would fuss, but I was sure they knew that even as they handed me back my old clothes. Finally when I was snowflake free I went over to my kitchen, munching on some now cold waffles and leaning against the counter. Mrs. Hudson walked in as well, going through my cabinets but obviously not finding anything that would satisfy her hunger.
"You need to stock up your kitchen Sherlock, you'll starve to death." She pointed out.
"My parents do the cooking, and you know I don't eat much." I defended.
"Well I can tell from your little noddle arms." Mrs. Hudson agreed. I scowled, shoving the rest of the waffle into my mouth and pushing through the crowd to John's, where at least I could probably get a little bit more privacy. As John was missing from the crowd, I could only assume he had taken refuge there as well, so I walked out the front door and went over to his house.