When Luck Runs Out

Murderous Reminders

    There was a news reporter on, talking about the parade and showing all of the outfits. It was hard to miss John and I, looking broken and beautiful, staring at the ground with our fingers interlocked. We looked flawless if you ask me. But then the topic changed, and I saw the video I was destined to see, also me, cape flowing and eyes wild, jumping over the barrier and screaming bloody murder. I saw the crowd run and the peacekeepers scramble to collect me, and I saw Molly and Mrs. Hudson race after me.
"Here we see Sherlock Holmes, the Victor of the 73rd Hunger Games and a tribute once more in the upcoming Quarter Quell, on what is said to be a drug induced rampage, attacking civilians and fans at the Tribute Center train station, just returned from the parade." The reporter announced.
"It was terrifying." There was a new girl, a witness or something, who was anxiously fixing her hair as she talked. "I saw his games and knew he was capable of killing someone, so what's to say he wasn't going to try to kill us?" she asked. How over dramatic, I wasn't trying to kill them, although her hair was a bit of a motive...
"Holmes was restrained by the peacekeepers on the scene, and sedated as he contributed to struggle..." the TV went dark, and I looked around, seeing Molly with the remote in her hand.
"You shouldn't watch that." she decided.
"Why not? I know what happened." I defended.
"You may, but they don't. They'll undoubtedly twist it into you skinning some poor man." Molly decided.
"Ya, I guess you've got a point there." I agreed.
"You're okay though, right? No aftershocks?" Molly clarified.
"I'm fine." I assured.
"I hope so. You really scared me Sherlock, you scared all of us. That hasn't happened since..."
"After John was Victor, I know, I remember just as well as you do." I assured.
"So you see your games then?" Molly asked.
"Yes." I sighed.
"And that boy?"
"Still all maniacal and bloody, as usual." I sighed.
"Sherlock you need to get a hold on these hallucinations, they're not healthy." Molly insisted, sitting down across from me on the couch.
"I know perfectly well they're bad, there's only one cure." I pointed out.
"I'm not giving you those drugs back." Molly insisted.
"Oh, so you still have them?" I asked happily.
"No I don't, I flushed them." She insisted, but she didn't sound too confident.
"Saving them for a rainy day, huh?" I asked with a smirk.
"I most certainly am not. That's a horrible thing to say." She insisted.
"I know another way I won't have hallucinations." I pointed out.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Death." I said happily. Molly sighed, rubbing her temples and looking at the floor.
"So you're not going to let John die?" she asked.
"Of course I'm not going to let John die, what type of boyfriend do you think I am?" I demanded.
"I knew it. But he's not going to let you do it either." She pointed out.
"Well, I'm dying, and that's the end of it." I insisted.
"Are you sure you can do it?" Molly asked.
"Do what?" I snapped.
"Kill yourself." Molly pointed out.
"What do you mean?" I asked. Molly sighed, as if she didn't want to have this conversation with me.
"I mean, it takes a lot of courage to stab yourself, to just kill yourself, it's not as easy as you may think." Molly decided.
"You sound like you've tried." I pointed out. Molly was silent, as if there were things she really didn't want to talk about. But I wasn't going to let her be silent, not now. The very thought of Molly even thinking about suicide was beyond my level of thought process. She was so happy and positive, how is this possible?
"Molly...?" I asked.
"Good morning all." Mrs. Hudson said cheerfully, cutting off anything Molly was about to say. I didn't say anything; I just glared at Molly, just to try to say that just because Mrs. Hudson had arrived doesn't mean this conversation was over.
"Good morning Mrs. Hudson." Molly said with a pleasant smile, wiping all signs of the emotion she had before away. That was her specialty, I was coming to realize. Maybe I wasn't really the most damaged Victor to come out of District Twelve.
"Where's John?" I asked.
"He's still in bed, came up when the doctor went to free you." Mrs. Hudson shrugged.
"I said that he should sleep instead of babysit you, but no, you two love birds have to stick together." Molly pointed out.
"You only say it like that because you're jealous." I insisted.
"I do not fancy you." Molly defended.
"I never said you did." I laughed.
"You always say that!" Molly insisted.
"Oh, getting defensive now?" I asked.
"Sherlock I am not doing this again." Molly decided, crossing her arms to say that she was done. I just smiled; laughing at her annoyance and watching the Avoxes bring in all of the breakfast food.
"Sherlock, be a dear and go get John up." Molly decided.
"He'll kill me." I pointed out.
"Well, I guess it's better you than us then." Mrs. Hudson laughed, but no one else cracked a smile.
"That's exactly what I've been trying to say this whole time." I pointed out, and Mrs. Hudson went rather pale.
"That's certainly not what I meant, it was purely..." Mrs. Hudson started.
"I know what you meant, I'll go wake him up." I decided, maybe a bit snappier than I would've been. I got up and walked over to John's room, where the door was shut and the lights were off. I opened the door quietly, walking in and yanking on the closed curtains, letting pure sunlight stream into the room. There was a loud, inhuman shriek from the bed and a little of bundle of blankets squirmed in terror.
"Wakey wakey." I laughed.
"Ten more minutes." John insisted.
"Nope, breakfast is ready and we request your presence." I decided.
"Five more minutes then." John debated.
"Get up you lump." I insisted, yanking the blankets off of him so that the cold air encouraged him to get up.
"Well don't you look spiffy?" he laughed.
"You've got one too, don't get all insulting now." I warned. John stood up and got his robe on, walking over to the folded clothes waiting for him on his dresser.
"You reckon they're the same ones from last year?" he asked, holding them up to himself.
"You got a lot more muscular now." I decided. John looked rather disappointed, but went into the bathroom to get ready. I went over to the breakfast table, where Mrs. Hudson and Molly were already seated, waiting for us to hurry up.
"He's coming." I announced, taking my seat at the table. As promised, in not time John came out to the table, dressed in his District Twelve training uniform as well.
"Fancy." Molly laughed.
"I don't remember these being so tight." John pointed out, demonstrating by trying to move his elbow. The leather just kind of folded, making a very irritating squeaking noise.
"Well that's odd." Mrs. Hudson decided, but she was much too busy spooning eggs onto her plate to care much.
"You two looked very official." Molly decided.
"That's not a good thing in my book." I insisted.
"Well, it could be worse I suppose." Mrs. Hudson shrugged.
"What do you mean by that?" John asked.
"I mean you could still be wearing those king costumes." Mrs. Hudson shrugged. I chuckled a little bit at that as I took just a little bit of fruit salad onto my plate. Don't get any ideas, thinking I was actually hungry; I was just eating the healthiest thing I could find, just to keep my nutrition up before the games. The time seemed to be going extra fast, so when Mrs. Hudson started to cram up into the elevator it was no surprise.
"Now, don't act all crazy." She insisted as Molly pushed the button to the lobby.
"What do you mean by that?" John asked.
"I mean don't make a fool of yourself. These people already think you're a homicidal drug addict, don't give them any farther proof." Molly decided.
"Maybe that can work to our advantage." John suggested.
"They won't be that scared of him, but they'll probably avoid him." Mrs. Hudson decided.
"Good. Hopefully Greg and Jeanette take note of that as well." I decided. We took the train down to the training rooms, which were somewhere in the Capital. Honestly it's been so long since I was here last, and I never knew where they were. Somewhere that was not the Tribute Center or the Interview stadium, I could tell that much.
"Now, look happy to be there..." Mrs. Hudson's words faltered when she got two very angry stares "...I mean at least come across as friendly. You'll want some allies."
"Unfortunately I think we've got some." John sighed.
"Who?" Molly asked excitedly.
"Greg and Jeanette, from five." I sighed. Molly's excitement seemed to wear off a bit.
"Oh, well, they're not terrible..."
"They are horrible!" John agreed, making Molly nod a little bit.
"Well, once in the games, it makes me happy that I can be the one to silence him forever." I decided.
"Sherlock, allies means you don't kill them, at least not immediately." Molly insisted.
"There are no rules in the games, it's kill or be killed." I pointed out.
"Just behave yourselves." Mrs. Hudson demanded as the train pulled up to a stop.
"Will do." I sighed.
"And I'm just supposed to take your word for it?" Mrs. Hudson asked as John and I stepped onto the platform. They couldn't follow, but it's not like we were unable to walk through the doors without someone holding them for us.
"See you!" I called, not answering her question and letting the doors close, shooting them off to the Tribute Center once more.
"Never thought I'd have to be here again." John sighed, looking at the revolving glass door, flanked by two peacekeepers on either side.
"Neither did I." I agreed, taking his hand in my own and taking a deep breath.
"No freak outs, okay?" John asked.
"Those only come after major emotional breakdowns." I pointed out.
"You won't have one of those, will you?" John asked.
"Probably not." I shrugged, leading him inside. There were people standing around waiting, tributes mostly, but I didn't recognize half of them. Unfortunately Greg and Jeanette were there, talking to each other quite loudly, so John steered me to the opposite side of the room, as if I needed persuading to avoid them. We lingered in the back corner, still clasping each other's hand, eyeing up the competition from our Greg induced hiding spot.
"I think I remember that girl from four, she won by hanging the other tribute, it was really gory." John decided, nodding at a small blonde sitting quietly on the couches.
"I don't watch the games." I pointed out.
"So you'll have a disadvantage." John decided.
"That's why I've got you." I insisted.
"That's the boy from six, I know him. He actually took the other boy's head and smashed it against a jagged tree branch." John pointed out.
"God, even the people from six are violent." I muttered.
"Everyone here is. We're violent too." John pointed out. "We're all just doing what we have to, to survive."
"Well at this point survival is overrated." I grumbled, looking around the lobby and trying my best to avoid being detected by Greg. He and Jeanette were now in a deep conversation with two people I didn't recognize, who looked like at this point they'd rather just die right now instead of wait until the games. Maybe that would be District Five's secret weapon, death by annoying conversations. "Sherlock Holmes." said a strangely familiar voice next to me. I jumped when I saw the speaker, a man I had met during John's games, James or something. I had met him in a bar while trying to get people to sponsor John, only to find he was a Victor from District Three. 

"Oh, hello again." I muttered. He had always given me the creeps, with his slicked back black hair, his pale skin, and his dead black eyes. He was the type that smiled while they killed you, the worst type of psychotic evil you could stumble upon.
"And this must be Mr. Watson, our new royal." He said happily, shaking John's hand, who seemed very reluctant to get any closer.
"We've heard all about you two, I just knew there was something between you two the public wasn't aware of." He decided.
"I'm sorry, you are...?" John asked, looking at me as if I was going to clear it up somehow.
"Oh dear, where are my manners? Jim Moriarty, district three." He said, beaming at us, but his eyes didn't reflect his smile. They were still cold, as if they were sucking all the light and happiness from the world around them.
"John Watson." John muttered. Jim looked around for someone, probably his counterpart. I remembered two men at the pub, Jim and his little bodyguard, but the names were slipping from my mind at the moment.
"Sebastian!" Jim called at one of the largest men in the room, who was sitting sulkily on the chairs, watching the crowd mingle. When he got up he was nearly as tall as the ceiling, a good head taller than everyone else and at least twice as wide. He had definitely buffed up since I last saw him. He walked over to Jim, showing no recognition of us, not even the slightest smile.
"Sebby, this is Sherlock, remember him from last year?" Jim asked. John and I exchanged glances out of the corners of our eyes, Sebby? Sebastian nodded in greeting, but he was still mute, as if he didn't want to talk unless Jim allowed him to.
"And this is Mr. Watson, the newest Victor." Jim introduced.
"I'm aware." He nodded, his voice gruff and very much matching his appearance. These two scared the crap out of me, but I tried my best to keep a cool reaction and a pleasant face.
"Hey, when did you two show up?" Greg gravitated over, standing next to John with a smile that beat even Jim's. But, apparently, we were saved by the Greg, because as soon as he came over Jim and Sebastian excused themselves, off to go terrorize some more helpless tributes.
"They're awfully creepy, don't you think?" Greg asked, leaning against the wall and watching the two leave.
"You came just in time." I agreed. Greg smiled; as if that were the first time someone was actually happy to see him. Then again, I don't doubt it.
"So, ready to start training?" he asked excitedly.
"How are you so happy?" I asked.
"I told you already, I'm embracing this as not a curse, but an opportunity." Greg pointed out.
"Oh ya, that whole die a hero thing." John remembered, rolling his eyes.
"Precisely." Greg agreed.
"Well, have fun with that. I guess I'll know you're happy when I see your picture floating in the sky." I decided.
"Oh come on Sherly, don't you want to be allies?" Greg asked. "I thought it was kind of a given." John snorted with laughter behind me, but turned it into a nervous cough. I didn't answer because we were interrupted by the doors to the training room being opened, everyone filing into the large arena. There were about thirty different stations, everything from wrestling to tying knots, sword fighting to finding water, archery to camouflage. Everything you could need to survive you could find in this room, but unfortunately everyone else had access to it as well.