When Luck Runs Out

The Real Victor Of District Twelve

But soon they left, joining the rest of the crowd to go cry over my dead boyfriend. I sighed, and it wasn't long before I heard the soft, slow song of an organ being played over loud speakers. I stood near the window, looking out through the glass, and looked into the window of John's abandoned house. It was all dark, but it was almost like I could see people in there, and as I focused more they got more and more vivid, the dark shapes taking on humanlike characteristics until I could see four people, John, Greg, Jeanette, and myself. John and I seemed to be dancing quickly, darting around on the hardwood, while Greg and Jeanette clapped along to unheard music, all of our faces gleaming with delight, the smiles on our faces so radiant that it was hard to believe it wasn't real. But as my eyes started to water up and blur, the people were gone, faded back into reality, and all I saw was the dark, empty room and heard the slow organ music. And for the first time since he had died, I cried. I properly cried, tears splashing over my cheeks, my eyes dumping every little pent up emotion I've had since I got back, all flooding forth in one big tidal wave. I slumped to the floor, sobbing for the man I'd lost, the love I'd lost, and the life of happiness that could've been mine, torn from me as quickly as the images in the window. I sat on the ground and wept until there simply were no more tears to cry, and then I just sat, defeated, on the cold wooden ground. I could hear the music; I could hear muffled voices over the loudspeakers talking about who knows what. I might just be the only person in the District that hadn't come out to honor John, and I was the one that loved him the most. It was kind of ironic, but then again, it was fitting. I couldn't face the idea of saying goodbye, there were simply too many things to say, too many personal things, that I didn't want broadcasted on live TV. In a couple of hours the music stopped and the talking stopped and I heard our gang move back to the houses. I saw the Watsons go back into their house, which means Mrs. Hudson was able to sort it out for them. Molly went into her own, my parents said goodbye and disappeared inside, and I knew that the cost must be clear. I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror, wanting my last and final moments with John to be perfect, and I shouldn't look like I had been wallowing in my tears. After I quickly brushed my hair and wiped my face off I made my way downstairs, flattening out my jacket and walking through the deserted Victor's Village. As promised, the square was empty. The speakers had been removed, the organ vanished, the only thing that remained in the square, on the stage, was a long thing coffin, rising up the body of John Watson. I took a deep breath, walking up the stone stairs, the only sound was the small echoes my footsteps left. I saw his body lying in the coffin, just like my dreams, I saw his pale face, his eyes closed, and his arms crossed on his chest, like all funerals did. He was wearing his silver suit, the one from the interview, with his beautiful hair combed to perfection and his skin so smooth it looked unreal. John, my John, looking so beautiful yet so dead, it hurt me. I walked up to the coffin, putting a hand on his soft cheek, but it wasn't warm. It wasn't the warm skin I had gotten so used to cuddling up to, it was freezing, it was dead.
"Oh John, where do I start?" I asked, my voice all broken with emotion upon looking upon the body. "Where do I start to say how much you mean to me, how much you don't deserve this, how it should be me laying in that coffin?" I asked. Not surprisingly, he didn't respond. I ran my hand along his cheek and held one of his freezing, limp hands, tears once again rolling down my cheeks.
"You were the best man I've ever known, the most loving, the kindest, the gentlest boy. You didn't deserve this, such a pure, such an innocent boy thrown into this mess of violence and brutality. But without you I know that I would probably not be talking right now. Without you, I would've put a gun in my mouth a long time ago." I admitted. I looked around the square to make sure no one else was here, because this would be mortifying.
"And I know I've said it so many times, and honestly, you'd probably be sick of it right now, but if it's the last time I can say it, John Watson, I love you so much. I've loved you since I first saw you, I wanted to know you, I wanted you to know me, and above all I wanted you to love me. Not because I wanted someone to love me, but because I needed you to." I insisted. "I should've died in that mall, I should be the one in that coffin, and you're the true Victor even if I did get the crown. So, I brought it for you." I said, pulling it out of my pocket. The beautiful crown, the crown of the Quarter Quell victor. I placed it ever so gently on top of his sparkling beautiful hair, and it fit him like it was meant for him, which it was.
"You look beautiful John." I decided. "Simply beautiful." Another tear rolled down my face as I suddenly realized I had nothing left to say.
"I guess...well, I guess this is goodbye for a while then. Until I can finally join you up there." I decided. I leaned down and pressed one last, loving kiss onto his cold forehead, hoping that he could feel it in the afterlife.
"And I promise John, I promise you right now. President Snow will pay." I promised. And with that I straightened up, took one last look at the motionless body in the coffin, and walked back down the stone stairs, leaving my love and my life on the stage behind me. 
A/N: Well, for starters, I didn't anticipate just how short this story part would be, but, well, I guess there's nothing I can do about that. So, as some of you might already know, I was planning on writing a third story, the last in this trilogy, about Sherlock's attempt to overthrow the capital, (don't worry, death can't stop the Johnlock) but I don't know if I'll actually write it, I'll consider it, but it will be towards the back of the list at the moment. This story was my longest, and I feel like yes, it did drag on just a bit, but in the end the story was alright and everything worked out as planned. So after this story you will get my next one, called I Don't Want to Believe, kind of an alien X-Files sort of story, should be pretty cool,  so ya...keep reading and I hope you enjoyed it :)