When Luck Runs Out

Mr. President, What an...Honor?

    "Oh, I remember his games. The wide eyed little tribute he was, adorable. No one saw his victory coming." Caesar insisted.
"Well, it's really been an underdog streak, I know that for certain." I insisted.
"So, what was his reaction after that, what happened once you pulled away?" Caesar asked.
"Who said I was the one that initiated it?" I asked, trying my best to sound insulted.
"Did you?" Caesar asked.
"No, he did! I wasn't going to press my luck that much; I had just admitted my feelings!" I insisted.
"Ooh, juicy people, juicy, the love life of Sherlock Holmes!" Caesar exclaimed.
"It's not very exciting." I muttered, but the crowd seemed to disagree.
"No, of course it is! So if you two had kissed, why do you say you should've done that..." Caesar's face broke into a knowing smile, as if he had just put two and two together.
"You still have your purity ring don't you Mr. Holmes?" Caesar asked with a sly smile.
"Let's change the topic please! Come on!" I groaned. My parents were watching this; they did not need to know such personal information. But then again, it was a yes, I was way too, well, way too me for any of that.
"Alright, alright, let's get back on track. Sorry people, yes, I know, sorry." Caesar sighed. "But yes or no?" he asked.
"Caesar! I'm going to have to play Brutus soon!" I insisted, really wanting to stab this golden haired gossiper in the back.
"E tu Sherlock?" Caesar laughed, and the crowd seemed to find that absolutely die in your seat funny.
"Alright, let's talk about the final battle. The last straw, the defining moment, when you fell into that net and you saw John tied up, being tortured by the good lads of District Three. How did you feel?" Caesar asked.
"Well, after the parade we all did a little who's who game with the tributes, and we watched the tapes from all of the past years. And ever since then, I had nightmares about what would happen, I saw myself strung up, I saw John strung up, I saw both of us strung up. And when I fell into that net, I literally saw my nightmares come to life, and it's a lot worse when you know it's real." I sighed.
"Now you managed to escape with what, a screw am I correct? With a little bit of distraction by Mr. Lestrade. What made you so keen to take on Mr. Moriarty, probably thinking at the time that he was a much more skilled fighter than yourself?" Caesar asked.
"I couldn't run, I couldn't have laid down and let him kill me. Not only was my life on the line, but John was unconscious, bleeding out, and the only thing that stood between me and him was Jim, and that had to end." I insisted.
"I was as shocked as any when you threw that spear with precision, not that I doubted your skills, but I didn't know you were so handy with a weapon like that." Caesar pointed out.
"That's what I did my evaluations with, the spears." I shrugged.
"Oh, well, look at that, it's already eight o'clock, how time flies when you're having fun, am I right?" Caesar asked.
"Oh, definitely." I muttered, thinking that this was my last definition of fun.
"Well then, all the way from District Twelve, farewell to our beloved Victor, Mr. Sherlock Holmes!" Caesar yelled as we both stood, grabbing my hand and holding it high in the air with excitement. I smiled the best I could manage, but soon the Capital anthem started to play and I knew what was coming. I knew who was coming. It took all of the strength I possessed not to strangle that greasy haired white clad tyrant as he stepped onto the stage with a crown carrier, President Snow himself, in all of his horrible glory. He didn't look any different from when I last saw him in person, at the parade, the same cleanly trimmed white beard, the same neat white suit, a white rose pinned to his jacket. I hated him so much I wanted to throttle him, but I had to force a smile and stand tall as he approached me. He stopped and took the silver crowd, intertwined with golden tinsel around the edges, a new crown for the Quarter Quell I suppose.
"Congratulations Mr. Holmes, and my condolences." He muttered as he placed the crown on my head. For a moment we stared into each other's eyes, and there was no hiding things in people's eyes. I saw evil and hate, deception and agony swimming in those lifeless gray eyes, and he surely saw the hate that simply radiated off of mine.
"Thank you Mr. President." I said with a firm voice, and for a moment he squinted his eyes, deepening the wrinkles in his old skin, but it was so quick that I almost thought it was my imagination. Snow then left the stage to much cheering, and I was finally allowed to leave the stage, joining Molly and Mrs. Hudson at the wing, who both looked very angry.
"He's such a creep." Molly muttered as I walked into the darkened hallway.
"Not now Molly." Mrs. Hudson insisted, leading the small group away from the stage.
"That was great Sherlock, you passed the test, you didn't seem too, well, you know, you cracked some jokes, you laughed, it was great." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"I didn't seem too damaged." I corrected.
"Yes, that." she agreed with a sigh.
"Now the after party, right?" Molly asked me. I groaned, remembering how badly the after party from last year had turned out. The happiness, the love that had simply radiated through the night before the photographer had ruined it all.
"I'm sorry Sherlock, we hate it too, but it's mandatory, if we could skip it we certainly would." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"I know, I know. Let's just get it over with." I sighed.
"Upstairs we go then." Mrs. Hudson decided, leading the two of us through the hallways to a set of fancy carpeted stairs. Molly and I walked together, third wheeling Mrs. Hudson in the front to lead the way. I knew that Molly had a lot of friends here, other mentors and all of that. It made me wonder how many of those little friends had died in the games. I wondered if the girl we had killed was one of her gang. I shuddered to think of what a large posy of angry girls would do to me if that were true. Mrs. Hudson led us to a pair of open glass and metal doors, leading into the banquet room, where tables and tables of food were laid out. There was a marble dance floor in the middle, and classical music playing from speakers in the ceiling.
"Now, smile, look happy." Mrs. Hudson instructed. I nodded, and I felt Molly nod beside me, even though I was sure we both didn't want to be here at all. A group of people greeted us, all with faces I didn't recognize and names I didn't care to remember. They pretty much whined over me, saying how terribly sorry they were, how badly they had wanted me to win, and how happy they were when I had gotten out alive. There were some people I only slightly recognized mingling around as well, some of Molly's friends that came around and all took turns taking selfies with me, all of which I looked very confused in. I recognized some rich people who I had tried to get to invest in John last year, and they all shared their stories and their condolences, telling me how they constantly tried to fund us but they weren't allowed for some reason.
"Why wasn't there any sponsoring this year?" I asked curiously as Molly and I moved through the crowd, Mrs. Hudson long gone to some of her friends.
"Oh, they insisted there were enough supplies around the city, and they'd hidden it. I don't get it though, that was usually their biggest money maker." Molly admitted.
"They just wanted more of a show I guess." I shrugged. "And it's not like they needed any more money."
"I suppose so." she agreed. Both of us hovered over to the food, but neither took anything, coming to a silent agreement that we both weren't very hungry at the moment.
"Molly, you need to come with us, there's this really cute guy." one of her little friends insisted.
"But I'm with Sherlock!" she insisted.
"Well, he's cute yes, but you know he's not exactly..." the lady cut off her own sentence, playing the ultimate sexuality guessing game.
"It's fine, go ahead." I assured.
"I mean, you can come too, if you want." The girl shrugged, obviously thinking that since John was dead that I was automatically in the market for a new boyfriend. Well she couldn't be more wrong.
"I'm fine. I want some alone time anyway." I insisted, my eyes wandering to the balcony that me and a certain someone had wandered out onto a year ago.
"Alright then, I'll be here if you need me." Molly insisted, patting my arm sympathetically and letting her friend lead her through the crowd. I was left alone then, standing near the food table and deciding that I was simply taking up space, wandering over to the balcony doors and staring out through the glass. Did I really want to go out there? I was as depressed as it is, there was no point in making it worse. But then again, it was a walk down memory lane, and I would probably never be here again. In fact, if all went well, I'd never have to visit the Capital again. So I opened the doors, happy to find them unlocked and the balcony unoccupied, and I wandered into the cold, not bothering to shiver as I walked over the cold stone floor. The sun had set long ago, and the world was dark save for the lights that shone brightly on all of the buildings. John and I had stood here, joked around and then shared our second ever kiss. He had been the one wearing the crown though, not me, and we were both happy, relived, and in an idiot state of awkward love. I expected him to walk from the crowd, as if hidden there the whole time, I wanted him to open the door and hold me once more in his arms, tell me that I wasn't alone any more, tell me that he was there, that he would always be there. I leaned against the stone railing and the shock was starting to wear off. I was suddenly coming to grips with the fact that those memories were just what they were, memories. And I would never create new ones with that beautiful boy, the one who I had been so lucky to call mine. John was gone, and he was never going to come back. I let my head fall onto the cement, the crown digging painfully into my scalp as I tried to hide the tears running down my cheeks. My John was gone. I picked up my head and looked down at the world, spiraling below me. I saw the streets, the sidewalks, the ant like people wandering around, fireworks going off, music playing. And slowly I knew that I wanted to join them, slowly I realized that there was no point being up here, all alone. I needed to join the masses; I needed to join the people who had crossed the veil. I stood up straight, lifting myself up onto the thin stone wall, the only thing separating me from the free fall into Heaven. I got to my feet, feeling a little bit shaky as I stared down at the people, everything seeming so small and so unimportant from up here. One step, that was all it took, one step and I'd be with my John once again. I sighed, starting to lift my foot when there was a terrible scream, and the doors burst open.
"No, Mr. Holmes, don't do it!" it was some sort of waiter, dressed in all white with a red tie, rushing to my aid. I groaned, he still wasn't enough to stop me; some stupid Snow worker wasn't going to convince me to stay where I was. But people had heard the horrible scream; they were all rushing onto the balcony but leaving enough room for the waiter and me. He was around my age, with golden streaked brown hair and blue eyes that looked as deep and as mysterious as the ocean.
"Please, Mr. Holmes, the people are counting on you." He insisted, I stood on the ledge, looking on all the horrified faces, and I could see Molly, pushing her way through the crowd, looking desperate, her hair falling out of its bun, her face white. I sighed, but turned around and stepped off of the ledge onto the balcony. I couldn't do this to Molly, and besides, there would be a better time. 
"Thank you, thank you." The waiter insisted, but I just brushed him off, I didn't need his praise. 
"What's your name?" I asked in spite, knowing that it should seem like I was thanking him for 'saving' my life. More like elongating this torture.
"Victor, sir." He muttered. "Victor Trevor."
"How ironic." I muttered, walking past him and shouldering my way through the relieved crowd.
"Sherlock, what were you thinking!" Molly exclaimed, wrapping him in a strangling hug as if that were going to prevent him from jumping again. In a way though, it did.
"I was thinking the way I normally do, shut up." I insisted, really not in the mood to be pestered by Molly as well. "And don't tell Mrs. Hudson." I demanded.
"Tell me what?" Mrs. Hudson asked. I groaned, and Molly gave me a silent 'you're busted' sort of look.
"How, um, pretty you look tonight..." I muttered, attempting a friendly smile.
"I may be old, but I'm not blind yet. I saw that whole scene." Mrs. Hudson insisted, but she looked madder than anything. Maybe it was my bad improve that settled that scowl in stone. Then she hit me upside the head with a rolled up brochure, and trapped me once more in an unavoidable hug.
"Don't do anything that stupid again Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson insisted. I nodded, thinking that was quite the mix of reactions, but nevertheless I hugged her back, just happy she wasn't dragging me out of the place by my ear.
"Can we leave?" I asked quietly, not wanting to leave with a big dramatic exit. People were still mingling around on the balcony, trying to look down and see where I would've fallen, asking that Victor kid what had happened, it was all a dramatic mess.
"I'm sure someone got that on video." Molly decided as Mrs. Hudson led us down those fancy carpeted stairs to the train.
"I'm sure they did." I sighed.
"What were you trying to do?" she asked, as if suicide were too big of a guess.
"I was trying to get a better view of the world below." I groaned. "I was going to jump alright?"
"Never ever commit suicide Sherlock, ever. If you do, I'll kill you." Mrs. Hudson insisted.
"Sounds like a bit of a loose loose for you." I decided.
"Don't Sherlock. You know that John died so that you could live, don't let his death be for nothing." Molly insisted.
"But what do I have without John?!" I yelled, stopping where I stood so that they overshot me a bit. Since we were on stairs as well, I got the high ground. "Why shouldn't I just kill myself? We're separated Molly, he's dead and I'm alive and there's no bringing him back. If we want to be together it's not that hard, it's a step, or it's a bullet, and it's a jump with a bed sheet around my neck, and then I could be with him again!" I pointed out. Both women had stopped on the stairs, and Molly looked close to crying once more.
"What about us Sherlock? We know you loved John, and that you might think it's the best idea to drop everything and go follow him into that abyss, but your master plan involves leaving us both here!" Mrs. Hudson snapped, stepping up a step to look more threatening I suppose. But she didn't have to be up a step to scare me to death. She did that the moment she had her angry voice.
"You'll be leaving me alone." Molly insisted. "I'd have no family, I'd have no friends, Mrs. Hudson would go back to the Capital. We lost John, but don't make me lose you as well." I groaned, knowing that, for now, I was beat. I couldn't just leave Molly here, all alone. At least not until things got desperate for me, not until I might start getting nightmares, hallucinations, not until I fell my heart breaking every day could I tell myself it would be alright to pull the trigger.