When Luck Runs Out

Camera Shy

"Remember the night before the games, your games, last year?" I asked.
"Not very vividly." John shrugged.
"You were so scared, that's the first time we actually fell asleep together, and I told you that I loved you for the first time." I pointed out.
"I don't remember that." he muttered.
"That's because you were asleep before you could hear me." I pointed out.
"Oh, right. Sorry about that." he muttered.
"I was freaking out around then, I had no idea what to do, I even went to Molly for relationship advice." I pointed out.
"That's desperate." John decided.
"You bet it's desperate." I agreed with a laugh.
"Well, you don't have to worry about that now." John insisted.
"No, no I do not." I agreed with a smile, squeezing his hand. John smiled, but the moment ended when I decided that I needed something to drink, since the peanut butter was sticking to the roof of my mouth. Maybe a romantic moment would still have lived if I had sipped from a crystal glass or something, but I had to lift that big horrible purple sand bucket to my mouth, and John kind of recoiled in an attempt not to get hit in the nose.
"Want some?" I asked after a sip or two.
"I suppose I should. Do you think we could find that place again anyway?" John asked, taking a sip and putting the bucket back down.
"We used all the ice up, and I doubt it'll make more considering there's no electricity in this place." I pointed out. Suddenly I heard a long, low howl, like something from those old cheesy werewolf movies.
"What in the world was that?" I asked, racing to the window and peering out. I couldn't see much from our floor, just darkness and shadows in the shapes of buildings.
"Wolf?" John asked.
"Why the heck would they put wolves in here?" I asked, holding up my hand for silence. John was quiet on cue, and again I heard it, a low howl, undoubtedly a wolf.
"You don't think that's Moran or someone, making sounds?" John asked. The thought of Jim and Moran making wolf sounds as they hunted sent horrible shivers down my spine.
"I really don't want to think about that." I decided as yet another howl came. I pulled shut whatever I could of the half a curtain, since I had used the other curtain rod for a door stopper. It didn't help much, but I just sank to the floor below the couch, feeling extremely small right now. There were so many good, skilled killers out there, and John and I were drinking from a plastic sand bucket. And now with a pack of wolves involved, enforcing curfew on the streets, there was no way we'd survive.
"What's wrong Sherlock?" John asked, sitting down across my lap and wrapping his arms around my neck, running his fingers through my curls because he knew it calmed me down.
"Why does anything have to be wrong?" I asked.
"Because it's the hunger games, we're both in it, and you're you. There's bound to be some drama in your head." John guessed.
"I'm just worried, that's all. The reality of all of this is creeping up on me, slowly, and it almost hit me when that guy had that knife. What if, when I try to kill someone, they turn into you? What if instead of killing them, I have to watch you kill me?" I asked.
"That won't happen, because you'll be able to tell who's who. I'll be fighting alongside of you, and your little hallucination will be fighting against you. And you know that whatever happens, I'll never swing my own sword at you." John pointed out.
"What if I strike first?" I asked. "Not that I would."
"Then I'd let you kill me. I know that if you think I need to die, the situation is urgent." John decided.
"I'd never." I pointed out.
"Exactly why I'd do nothing." John agreed.
"What if I was possessed?" I asked.
"What do you mean possessed?" John laughed.
"Like, a demon, or a ghost was using my body. Maybe some wicked capital technology." I suggested.
"That's weird Sherlock." John decided.
"This world is weird, I'm sure nothing could be impossible anymore." I sighed.
"I'm sure I won't be around to see it then." John shrugged.
"You most certainly will." I insisted. John just smiled, one of his fingers catching a knot in my hair and yanking it uncomfortably.
"Ouch." I muttered, but John just shrugged.
"I don't think you understand just how much you mean to me Sherlock." He insisted.
"I'd never be able to see myself like you claim I am." I pointed out.
"I know, I know. But you're the smartest person I know, the kindest," I snorted at that, but John kept going, "The bravest, the most selfless, the most caring person I've ever known. And you're so beautiful Sherlock, just so beautiful." John decided, kissing the first part of my face he could reach, which was evidently my jaw bone.
"You're beautiful too." I pointed out.
"Not really, beautiful is more of an angelic thing, and you're rocking that whole fallen from heaven look." John decided.
"I crawled from Hell." I defended, and John just pecked my cheek once more.
"Whatever you want to think." He insisted, rolling his eyes. When finally his lips were able to reach mine, I was ready, and for once in my life I was able to kiss him back with all of the love I had hidden inside of me, instead of just being all awkward. His hands cradled my head between them, and he was leaning up against me so that my back was very uncomfortably pressed against the wooden part of the couch, but such magic was coming from the kiss that I just couldn't be bothered. For a second everything was a blur, everything was perfect, but then, when my brain was able to clear away the fog, I realized that there were cameras, everywhere. I stopped abruptly, but John didn't really seem to notice.
"John." I pointed out, which immediately stopped him as well.
"What's wrong?" he asked quietly.
"There's live cameras, remember?" I asked, blushing so ferociously that I could probably take the place of a burning camp fire. John didn't really say anything, he just jumped from where he sat and ran, mortified, into the cracked tile bathroom. I sat there for a moment, trying to get my bearings and not look like a flustered little dork. I was, of course, a dork, but now that there were cameras everywhere and people had probably seen that entire thing... Oh god, the thought of that being broadcasted, my parents seeing that whole thing, Mycroft's eyes slanted in suspicion. I'm not even sure my grandmother watched the games, but god if she did I was so dead. Molly and Mrs. Hudson... well, they'd probably be happy actually, to see us happy I suppose. Especially Molly and her little talk about me expressing my feelings to John more clearly. It was a terrible thing to think about, my family see me and my boyfriend share a moment, but then I remembered that I'll never have to face them about it, I'll be a bit too dead. If they wanted to they could always tell off my corpse, I'm sure just the thought of it would make my corpse blush with humiliation. The moonlight was bright and I heard another howl, and then another one. They didn't sound far off at all, a block, maybe more, but I seriously doubted they were wolves. With all of the easy food collecting and water, I was sure the dangers the Capital created would be far more deadly than just a regular back woods wolf. I sighed, but I decided that maybe I should comfort John in some way, even though I didn't really know what was wrong. I knew he was probably pretty mortified, because he had just kissed me pretty roughly on live TV, and told me I was beautiful, which made me blush with pleasure. I had never thought of myself as beautiful. I got to my feet and walked over to the bathroom, where the door was shut.
"John?" I asked.
"What?" he called back.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
"Oh, ya, I'm fine." He didn't sound fine.
"Can I come in?" I asked. I tried the door, but it was locked. It shocked me that these rusty old doors could still close, much less lock, but I guess they only held up when it was most inconvenient for me. I heard him get up, and the lock click, but he didn't open the door. I cautiously opened it, not really knowing what to expect. Instead of some plot to kill me John was sitting on the edge of the claw foot bath tub, his head in his hands, looking somber.
"What's wrong?" I asked. John sighed, and I sat down next to him, patting his knee comfortingly, since his hands were holding up his head.
"Nothing's wrong, I was just an idiot." He sighed.
"You weren't an idiot, you were fine." I assured.
"I got too carried away, I couldn't think straight. And now I just kissed you on TV, god, my parents saw that." John shuddered. Even though I knew I shouldn't, I couldn't help but chuckle a little bit.
"What's so funny?" he snapped, as if I were laughing at his embarrassment.
"Nothing, just the thought of your mom seeing that." I laughed. John actually cracked a little bit of a smile. "Hey, come on, they might not have broadcasted it, they only show the interesting stuff, right? Well there might be a battle going on right now, or those wolves that we heard, they could be tearing someone to shreds. The two of us kissing is definitely not enough to catch the viewer's attention compared to the death of a tribute." I pointed out. That seemed to cheer John up just a little bit, but honestly I was lying through my teeth. Those wolves were only walking around, and I doubted there was a battle going on, especially considering the way we were all spaced out.
"Well I guess I'm just being over dramatic then." John decided.
"It's fine John, it's all fine." I assured.
"I'm sorry though, if you, you know, weren't all that into that, like I said, I got carried away. Just the idea that we might not get the chance to have a moment like that ever again, makes you want to preserve the time you've got." John shrugged.
"I know, I know what you mean." I assured.
"Just don't get the idea that I only like you for the kisses, I love you for who you are, your soul, not your body. And that sounded creepy, ignore that." John decided. I just laughed, leaning onto his shoulder and giggling.
"I know what you mean, idiot. Emotional love, my specialty." I agreed.
"Is that why Molly was badgering you so much?" John asked.
"Precisely." I agreed. John just laughed along with me, and for a moment everything was good. It was almost like we were sitting on the couch at home, talking awkwardly and giggling about what pathetic love lives we both lead.
"We should get some sleep, I'm sure the tributes will be getting closer." John decided. I nodded in agreement.
"There was a bed in there." I pointed out.
"Gross." John insisted.
"My thoughts exactly. We could always drag the mattress out, make sure it's bug free, and then sleep on it." I suggested.
"I'm good for sleeping on the couch. Besides, one of us will have to stay up and keep watch, because who knows what might happen overnight?" John asked.
"Good idea." I agreed.
"I'll take first watch." Both of us said in unison, and I just laughed.
"No, you need sleep, you're injured." I pointed out; tapping his elbow and making him wince.
"Not a good excuse, not at all." He insisted.
"Well, it's the one you're getting." I demanded, getting up and rushing to sit on the floor before John got there.
"Sleep." I demanded.
"I'm honestly too tired to argue. Is there a blanket or something I can use?" John asked, looking around.
"Probably one in the closet." I decided. John went over and brought out an old woolen blanket, looking surprisingly okay. He shook it out a couple of times, but only a couple of leaves and dust bunnies shook out.
"Wake me up at one o'clock, and then you sleep." John demanded.
"I don't have a clock." I pointed out.
"Make your earliest estimate then." He decided.
"The only good thing about the games is that you can sleep in as long as you want." I pointed out.
"No I can't you're going to wake me up." John insisted, laying down on the couch and snuggling up in the blanket. I had to admit, it looked tempting to join him, but I decided that it was more worth it to keep watch. I could suffer a couple of hours to keep John safe. In no time he was asleep, snoring silently into the pillow. I didn't want to be a creeper so I tried to focus on something other than how cute he looked when he was asleep, so I looked out the window in the darkness. Nothing moved and all was dark, I couldn't see the ground and therefore any career pack that was sneaking around was invisible to me. I doubted that Moran and Moriarty would work in a pack with others though, if anything I think the other people would be too scared to join up with them. The best plan of action, whether you're from one or from twelve, would be to hide where Jim and Moran couldn't find you, because if they find you that means they won't kill you, but torture you slowly. Bloody psychopaths if you ask me. The hours past uneventfully, and I didn't even feel remotely tired, quite the opposite in fact. Even though it was night time I knew that I should be tired, but that kiss had sparked new energy into me, and I knew John was absolutely beat, so I just let him sleep, my own eyes dropping only a little bit as the sun started to rise. In the end I nodded off against the wall, leaned against the window pane, hoping John wouldn't be too angry when he woke up.