When Luck Runs Out

The Eleventh Hour

When I woke it was quite clear to me why my dream had taken a pleasant turn, because I felt John next to me, somehow my arms had wrapped around him once again in that protective cuddle thing. He was still fast asleep, and I was sure that it had to still be the middle of the night, but I wondered what had woken me. When the arena and the killers had disappeared everything was so nice and pleasant, it wasn't really an image of happiness but more a feeling, I could feel John's presence, I knew he was there and knew I was safe. But then I noticed, even though it was barely noticeable, that there wasn't the smallest pulling on me, that it didn't feel like, however small, I was being dragged along. The train must have stopped then, we were at District Eleven. However much I wanted to go back to sleep I didn't feel like I could, and curiosity tore me out of the protective bed and into the cold unknown. I was as quiet as I could be, as to not wake John, as I walked out the door, shutting it with a snap and walking out into the living room car as I pulled my robe onto my shoulders. I couldn't see much, but we were in an outdoor train station and I could see lights in the distance. I knew it was harvest, even though it was snowing at our home it was warmer down here, so thank god for the air conditioning. I knew that during harvest, for whatever fruit or vegetable or nut that was growing this time of year, that they were working all through the night to get it, whether the solution be bright spotlights or night vision goggles, there was not a tree or plant left with even the smallest bit of edible crop. District Eleven was poor, just like us, and even though there was so much food grown and collected over there it was restricted from the workers, they had to fend for themselves and by their own food. I knew that if you stole food there was a punishment, but since we had learned about the other Districts a couple of years back in school I forgot. Probably a fine or something. People here were just as bad, maybe even worse off than we were in District Twelve; at least some of us can survive off of hunting in the woods by crawling under the inactive electric fence. I could make out some shapes, buildings no doubt, like silos and barns, but they were just dark shapes and I couldn't make out anything else. So, satisfied with my search but now annoyingly awake, I grabbed an apple from the everlasting fruit bowl on the counter and sat in an armchair, munching away and wondering if District Eleven had grown this apple. That would be pretty ironic; it had gone from the District Eleven to the Capital to the train to District Twelve only to end up back in District Eleven, where it was eaten by me. A cycle of life, beginning and ending in the same place. Wow, maybe I did need a bit more sleep. But I just reclined back and watched the lights, occasionally there would be a small flick in them, which either meant their power wasn't all that great or someone had walked between me and my light source. Some District Eleven resident, be it a full grown man or a small child, wandering through the streets in search of their working parents. It could be anyone really, and it was entertaining enough to imagine what they looked like over there, their youth, their middle aged people and their elders, how the wealthy dressed and how thin their poor were, how muscular the men were and how many children the women had. The life I had grown up with in District Twelve could be flipped completely, like a completely alien world, by just traveling a while in a train. The only thing I knew we had in common with these people is that every year they lose one or two of their population, that somewhere they had crudely made grave stones nailed into the dirt, making a long line of all the tributes lost in the games, the only thing we had in common with all the districts was the hunger games and our unconditional hate for the Dictator that ruled over us.
"Sherlock?" asked a sleepy voice. I turned, expecting to see John since I had slipped from his grasp, but instead Molly was wandering into the living room, looking as if she hadn't gotten one wink of sleep.
"What are you doing up so late?" I asked.
"I should ask you the same thing." Molly pointed out.
"I felt the train stop, so I wanted to go investigate." I insisted.
"I couldn't sleep." Molly decided, sitting on the couch opposite of me. I simply twirled the remains of my apple in my fingers, not sure if I should stay or just leave now that I had gotten company.
"Did you have a nightmare?" I asked.
"I do every night." Molly admitted.
"Of the games most likely." I guessed.
"They're just as traumatizing for me, you may think that you're the only Victor who has to go through them, but they're the same for everyone." Molly pointed out.
"I had a nightmare too, but it went away." I sighed.
"How?" Molly asked, looking hopeful. If I had found a remedy then maybe she could as well.
"John came in." I muttered. Molly's face dropped and she muttered a disappointed little 'oh'. I would offer her some sort of help of course, but I couldn't have John holding her hand in the middle of the night.
"What did you do when they were really bad?" I asked. Molly sighed, as if she didn't want to remember these dark times.
"I didn't sleep mostly. I'd stay up and try to function as normally as possible, and then usually if I was tired enough I could sleep dreamlessly for at least part of the night." Molly shrugged.
"Morphine works better." I pointed out.
"Yes, I'm sure it does, but it isn't a cure, it's just another problem to tack onto your long list." Molly pointed out.
"That's offensive." I decided.
"Kind of meant to be." Molly agreed.
"Oh, a negative comment, don't let me tell Mrs. Hudson." I warned jokingly.
"Where is John now?" Molly asked.
"Asleep. I just snuck out, figured if the only thing I can see from here is buildings then it really isn't worth waking him up." I sighed.
"He has nightmares too?" Molly asked.
"Not as many as you or I, but yes, haven't you heard him scream a couple of times during the night?" I asked.
"No." Molly muttered.
"Well I do, probably because our houses are so close together." I sighed.
"What do you do then? Cover your head in a pillow and shut the window?" Molly asked.
"Of course not, I go over there and lay with him, so that he doesn't have a nightmare anymore." I defended.
"Sherlock I'm shocked by you sometimes." Molly decided. I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what this was going to amount in. "Through my entire time of knowing you, you've made the impression that you had your heart and emotions removed long ago, and now, you and John, you two are a match made in Heaven. I've never seen anyone, much less you, care for anyone so dearly." Molly decided.
"He's the best thing that's happened to me, ever." I decided. "I might as well make sure he doesn't leave."
"If he leaves you I'm sure Mrs. Hudson and I will hunt him down." Molly assured.
"Then he's hate the day he was ever born." I decided.
"I don't think he will leave you though, I think he might love you just as much as you love him." Molly pointed out.
"Maybe these games have some good parts to them after all." I muttered. Molly didn't look too convinced, but she nodded. Obviously her games had no good parts, at all.
"How did you win your games, I never watched them." I asked. Molly sighed, but she didn't look like it was that horrible of a question.
"Our terrain was dessert, and I hid in some ruins that I had found along the way. I guess it was a pretty good hiding spot because every night I would watch the sky and see more and more people dead, until there was only me and the one career. So I went out to meet him and found him suffering on the side of a dried up river bank, from dehydration. But he was still alive, so I took the sword from his own belt and drove it through his skull." Molly muttered, shivering even though it was quite warm in the train.
"And I see him every time I shut my eyes." she added.
"The boy I killed, the one who I stabbed through the head, I see him as well. After the John's crowning when I was having withdrawal I saw him in John, I thought he was chasing me." I admitted.
"I guess we've all got our demons." Molly decided. There was some awkward silence that I honestly didn't know how to fill, so we just sat there for a little bit, watching the lights of District Eleven, flicker on and off as people walked between. I was about to ask her if she'd ever explored District Eleven, but when I looked over I saw that she was asleep, curled up in the armchair and breathing quietly. So I got up and grabbed one of the blankets from the couch, draping it softly over her and going back into my bedroom to rejoin John, who, miraculously, was still asleep.     

        When I woke up John was cradled once more in my arms, his face smeared unattractively onto the pillow and his hair a bit of a wreck. Honestly it was adorable, just to know that the person you so worship was able to look like a total hobo was reassuring. It was probably my slight movements or change of breathing that woke John, who started to stir and squirm in my embrace. It was odd to have to squint against the light, since I had always kept my curtains closed when I had nightmares. The less people that saw those breakdowns, the better. And the darkness had calmed me. Now the curtains were open, spilling the morning sunlight on us as we woke. 

"Good morning sunshine." I muttered, not wanting to be too loud but enough to get my sarcastic point across.
"Good morning darkness." John grumbled, his voice scratchy and tired.
"Well stated." I agreed. I didn't move, and neither did he, we just lay there for a little while, enjoying each other's company and the peace that came with early morning snuggling.
"When did you come in last night?" I asked.
"Around ten thirty, when they finally let me leave. You were asleep." He pointed out.
"Obviously. I got up though, I felt the train stop so I went to investigate." I sighed.
"Anything interesting?" John asked.
"Unless you call distant lights and shadowed buildings interesting, no." I shrugged.
"Well, we better get moving though, I want to have time before we have to get all dressed up." John decided, rolling from my embrace and getting to his feet.
"I don't see why I have to dress up, it's not like anyone cares how I look." I groaned, sitting up and rubbing my eyes, but not moving off of the bed yet.
"Well maybe the stylist fancies you." John suggested.
"I sincerely doubt it." I decided.
"And if they did I'd bash their skulls in." John agreed, peering out the window while stretching out. I had a terrible ache in my arm, which had been trapped underneath John so it had probably lost all blood all night. I ignored it though, getting to my feet and pulling my robe on, not bothering to tie it since it was only John. I joined him at the window, squinting through the sunlight. It wasn't very scenic, only some shrubs and some farmland, but I think John was fascinated to be in another District, even if it was just farmland.
"Alright, I'll go get dressed, we'll take breakfast to go." John decided.
"Get out of my room you creeper." I agreed, pushing him out and shutting the door behind him. I sighed, not bothering to make the bed as I quickly changed into my normal outfit and laced up my shoes. I did my best to look somewhat presentable, since I was sure people would recognize me to some degree, whether they just know my face or come up for an autograph. Personally I'd rather that none of that happened, I hated the idea of people knowing me for the killer I was. I'd rather be famous for scientific discovery, or creating a math equation, or designing some great building, but no. People knew me because I killed one guy and got a crown. I walked out to see John already dressed and ready, spreading cream cheese on two toasted bagels.
"Someone's excited." I decided, plucking a piece of bacon off of the table.
"I just don't want to be cut short." John shrugged, wrapping the two bagels in napkins and handing me one. Molly was still asleep on the couch, but the blanket I had so selflessly provided her was in a crumpled heap on the floor.
"Should we wake her up and tell her where we are?" John asked.
"Do you think she'll be able to guess where we went?" I debated, crunching on the last of my bacon and moving onto another piece.
"She'll probably think we were kidnapped." John decided.
"True." I agreed, kind of feeling bad for waking her up once again.
"Good morning lovelies." Mrs. Hudson walked in, at the most perfect moment, still in her pink fuzzy bathrobe.
"Ah, good, we're going out." John decided.
"Before breakfast?" she asked.
"I know right?" I grumbled, but John's death stare silenced me.
"Oh come on Sherlock, we're going whether you like it or not, so at least pretend to be interested." John insisted.
"Oh what a lovely day to go roam around at six in the morning." I said in a high pitched positive voice that closely resembled Molly's voice, but John didn't look amused.
"Anyway, what time should we be back?" John asked.
"No later than twelve." Molly was up, groaning her eyes but still memorizing the schedule obviously.
"Sounds good." John decided.
"Will you need money for lunch?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
"I've got some already, thank you though." John assured.
"Alright then, we're off." I decided, waving my finger through the air in a sarcastic demonstration of enthusiasm. "At six in the morning." I added, in case John wasn't aware of the very inconvenient hour he was dragging me out at.
"Have fun you two, and be safe." Molly decided. John and I nodded, saying our goodbyes and walking out with our breakfast in our hands. The morning was chilly, but the sky was a brilliant blue and I could tell that it would be a very nice day. The dew was still clinging to the blades of grass alongside the railroad tracks, and there was a pretty scent in the air, it smelled fresh, a scent that just didn't exist in District Twelve.