When Luck Runs Out

Home Never Seemed So Welcoming

My plan for good sleep was going very well, until about two o'clock in the morning. I was awoken a violent jerk next to me, and then a small scream, the hand around mine clenched so tightly that I thought my circulation would be cut off. I opened my eyes immediately, sitting up in the bed, not sure what to do.
"John." I whispered, tapping his shoulder cautiously, as if he were about to lash out.
"John." I repeated. He twitched again, and kicked out with one foot.
"John!" I said louder, shaking his shoulder. His eyes flew open and he jumped so much that he would've fallen off the bed if I wasn't holding his hand.
"Sherlock..." he muttered, blinking rapidly. His face was chalk white, with sweat beading on his forehead. But he was shaking too, all the common signs of the post games nightmares.
"You're okay, it was just a dream." I assured.
"God, he was back, I saw him again, his face was horrible, and he got onto the train..." John strayed off, as if too horrified to speak.
"It's okay John, there's no one here, you're perfectly safe." I assured.
"Sherlock he was coming to get me." John whispered, his nervous eyes scanning the darkness as if expecting flaming boy of district one to appear from around the corner.
"No one's going to hurt you, not if I can help it. Not now, not ever, I promise." I assured. A look of relief was evident on John's face, and he relaxed a little bit, or at least he stopped shaking.
"Oh Sherlock, what did I ever do to deserve you?" he asked.
"Everything." I insisted, lying back down beside him and letting him curl into me, laying his head on my chest and wrapping his arms around me. I breathed and his head went up and down, I knew he could feel my now increased heartbeat, smell the remnants of that nasty cologne the stylists drown me in. But were things that he appreciated, it meant that we were close, and if we were close we were safe, together, where we should be.                   

               The rest of the night was uneventful, until the shades were pulled open, letting the blinding light flood into our perfectly dark room.
"Up up up!" Mrs. Hudson chanted happily. I groaned so loud that it made John's head quiver, still lying on my chest.
"Mrs. Hudson it has to be six in the morning." I growled.
"It's ten, and breakfast is getting cold." She pointed out.
"Oh who needs breakfast?" John groaned, but never the less he sat up and stretched out a little before dragging himself to his feet.
"Sorry to interrupt, you two looked pretty cozy." Mrs. Hudson admitted.
"Then why did you interrupt? You know I'm still making up for seventeen years of not sleeping." I pointed out.
"I told you, breakfast is getting cold. Once we get home and you make your own breakfast you can sleep until one in the afternoon for all I care." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"Come on Sherlock." John insisted, ripping the nice warm covers off of me to encourage me, but if anything it made me even grumpier.
"I'm living in a world of sleep deprived tyrants." I decided. It took me a good five more minutes to crawl out of bed, but once I was up I just pulled my robe on and zombie walked into the dining car.
"Good morning sunshine!" Molly laughed, already dressed and ready for the day. She was sitting in an arm chair and reading some book with her hair in a messy braid.
"I am darkness." I insisted.
"Sorry, my bad." Molly smiled. I scowled at her, plucking some of the bacon, still plenty of hot to sit for another couple of hours, and sat on the counter nibbling it. John, on the other hand, loaded up a plate full of waffles, sausage, and eggs, chowing down happily. Pathetic.
"So, back home today." Molly said happily.
"How long?" John asked through a mouthful of waffles.
"We'll get there around eight or nine, at latest." Mrs. Hudson guessed.
"Oh great, that calls for more family bonding time, trapped in this metal tube." I groaned.
"Always looking at the positives once more." Molly decided.
"You people need to be more creative with your insults, I'm sure I've heard that one about twenty times since we went on this trip." I decided. John nodded in agreement, even though he probably said it at least thirty times.
"Well, I was thinking we should discuss the reaping." Molly decided.
"What is there to discuss?" I asked, now through with my bacon and moving onto peeling an orange.
"Well, I don't know how you might feel about it, John might have some questions." Molly shrugged.
"We know perfectly well what it is, we've gone through it plenty of times." I muttered, wincing as a flyaway drop of orange juice shot into my face.
"It was asking John, Sherlock, not you." Molly insisted.
"No questions from me." John shrugged.
"Oh, okay." Molly muttered, sounding disappointed.
"You never went to the reaping last year, did you Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
"No, I didn't." I insisted.
"Why not?" John asked.
"Because if I had, I would've had a mental breakdown. I was too fresh out of the games to go through another reaping, even if I wasn't being picked." I decided.
"That doesn't mean you can skip yours though, you're required to go, Sherlock's just stubborn." Mrs. Hudson decided. I shrugged with agreement; I had locked myself in my room and didn't let anyone in. They just went on without me, so I guess what I ever I did worked.
"I know all too well." John agreed. I just jeered at him, and John waved sarcastically back.
"Oh, you want to go huh, fight me John." I growled, but John just rolled his eyes, as if embarrassed to be seen near me.
"John would crush you in a fight." Mrs. Hudson decided.
"Um, no." I decided.
"Yes." John agreed.
"Remember that one time when he had me pinned to the floor and I kicked him in the face?" I pointed out.
"That doesn't count!" John insisted. "That was the drugs doing that, not you."
"It was the lack of drugs really." I shrugged.
"Well I wasn't even trying; I didn't know what was going on." John debated.
"He'd cream you Sherlock." Molly decided.
"Like goo." John agreed. I just rolled my eyes, going back to my orange and eating it rather aggressively. I would totally win, I'm taller than him, and I had definitely beaten him once, even if he didn't want to admit it. The rest of breakfast was an angry silence from me, and Molly and Mrs. Hudson amused themselves by talking about the latest celebrity gossip. Honestly I thought the only stuff that circulated was the picture of me and John, but no, other movie stars were going through breakups and drug addiction; apparently there was plenty to talk about. When breakfast was gone we just lazed around together, I lay on the couch and tried to get a few minutes of sleep in while the other three watched TV, but John kept tickling my feet so it was very difficult. The whole mood was ruined though when he had tried once again and I accidentally kicked him right in the face, causing his nose to start bleeding and both of the moms to start yelling at me. So I was on babysitting duty, getting him more tissues to stick up his nose and apologizing over and over again, every time Molly or Mrs. Hudson looked over. John insisted he was fine, but still, even after the bleeding stopped I made sure to get him water or food or a blanket or something. John thought that was cute I guess, because every time I guiltily offered he just laughed and ruffled my hair or something. Lunch came and went, and then dinner, and finally the train started to approach Twelve. It didn't take long to stuff what little possessions I had brought with me into my bag, my clothes, by brushes, my drugs, and by the time we pulled into the station I was already on the couch, tapping my foot with anticipation. I hated this train, and the fast I could get off it the better my life would be. John and Molly were all packed, but Mrs. Hudson was going back to the Capital, so she had to take the train all the way back. I didn't really understand why she insisted on coming with us, but she said that she was a mentor, an escort, and she would do her job. When the train pulled into the station I wasn't much in the mood for goodbyes, I was actually quite sad that she was leaving once more.
"I'll see all you in a couple of weeks." Mrs. Hudson assured as she gave John a hug.
"I'm not exactly looking forward to it." I mumbled.
"That's very positive Sherlock." Molly insisted.
"Oh stop with my positivity, I'm a pessimist, get over it." I growled. I gave Mrs. Hudson a nice hug goodbye, and then the three of us got off the train, walking through the slightly damp station to live out our normal lives as long as we could until the Reaping. When we got out of the tunnel I had partially expected a burst of morning light and a crowd cheering for our arrival, but when the doors open it was almost as dark outside as it was in this tunnel, and the streets were silent. There were crickets chirping, which seemed really ironic, like in cartoons when no one is talking or something, and the crickets chirp. It was a beautiful, clear night, and nothing was better than seeing the shining stars and smelling the faint smell of coal dust clinging to the sides of everything. Home sweet home. Before the games I had hated it here, I had been convinced any district would be better than some coal hole, but after two victory tours, after seeing the tyranny of District eleven, the cruelty of District one, and the fakeness of the Capital, I realized that there was no better place in Panem to live, District Twelve. We split into our separate houses, although I was planning on going over to John's after I got all sorted out. The parent's houses were dark, so there was no welcome wagon for us when we each unlocked our individual houses and walked inside. My house was dark, and my footsteps echoed off of the bare walls. I missed Mrs. Hudson already. I dropped my stuff in my room and changed quickly into my pajamas, sliding on a pair of flip flops and walking down the stairs to John's house, leaving my door unlocked just in case. As I expected his door was unlocked as well, so I slipped inside before his parents or Molly could come yell at me to get a decent night of sleep. I half expected the room to be completely dark, but when I stepped inside I saw that there was a kitchen light on. I walked inside to see John sitting at the marble counter, halfheartedly stirring a cup of hot chocolate and staring into space.
"Can't sleep?" I asked.
"I didn't even try yet, we just got back." John insisted. "Anyway, I was waiting for you."
"Fair enough." I agreed, sitting up on a wooden stool next to him.
"It's nice to be back." John decided.
"Yes, I suppose it is nice." I agreed. "Better than the train at least."
"Well, the train has some advantages." John shrugged.
"What can possibly good on that thing?" I asked.
"The memories." John pointed out.
"How cheesy." I muttered.
"Think about it, that's where we first met, that's where we had our first conversation, when we learned the bare minimum about each other." John pointed out.
"That's not that many memories. I'd have to say the Tribute center has more." I decided.
"That's only because we spent more time there." John agreed.
"That's where we first held hands." I pointed out.
"And the first time we shared a bed." John added.
"And the time I realized that maybe the ice around my heart was melting." I agreed, looking adoringly at John and wanting very badly to hold his hand. Unfortunately he was still pretty occupied with stirring his hot chocolate, so there was no opportunity presented to me.
"It wasn't until the tube when I realize I was the one warming it up." John muttered, still looking down at his mug.
"Are you happy with that?" I asked nervously.
"Of course I am Sherlock, I'll always be happy with that." John assured.
"I will be too." I agreed.
"But, at the moment, I'm exhausted, so if you want to be all romantic, save it for tomorrow." John decided.
"It's not like a I came over with wine and roses, I'm wearing flip flops for God's sake, I'm beat as well." I agreed.
"Wow, it's like a slumber party!" John said with a very fake squeaky voice.
"Oh my god have I told you about my new crush?" I asked excitedly.
"No, who!" John exclaimed.
"You!" I insisted.
"Wow, I didn't see that coming!" John exclaimed.
"This is too scarring, just stop." I decided, returning to my usual deep voice in disgust.
"I agree." John nodded.
"Shall we?" I asked, getting up from the chair, extending my arm for him to take.
"We shall." John agreed, taking it so I could lead him up the steps for a well overdue night of sleep.