(super long) A/N: I know that I have about 5 unfinished SPN fanfics, but I'm sorry, my SPN muse has fled me for the time being. I will eventually finish those one day, but my muse decided to attack me with this idea instead. It was inspired by the vid on YT by Deductism. Her vid is amazing in every way and it's a SuperWhoLockIn vid to Hunger Games, and the idea was so interesting that I just had to give it a try. I apologize beforehand though because I've never seen Doctor Who before, so I decided to leave the Doctor out of this story so I didn't butcher his character. I've also never written Sherlock, John, Merlin, or Arthur before so I'll give it my best. :D I'm also going to say beforehand that this is NOT a death!fic for any character, but there will be whump for most of them. (it's the Hunger Games, come on) hope you enjoy this and please please please let me know what you think of this.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, Supernatural, Merlin, or the Hunger Games and I sadly never will
How did they get here?
What kind of twisted reality had they been thrust into this time?
'Courageous Tributes, each of you have been gathered here from distant lands to take part in the annual Hunger Games. The time to prove your worth has come. You may notice how each of you stand on a metal plate. That plate serves as your starting point. If you any one of you steps off of them, then please take note that you will be taken out immediately.'
A woman's voice, as warm as the sun, rang out in the clearing in which they all stood. Confused glances were silently passed between them as each man took in their surroundings. As the voice had said, small metal plates lied under their feet, but beyond the disks lay a vast plain of grass that bled into a looming forest. Curious eyes swept over the landscape, revealing that they all stood in what looked to be a grassy clearing surrounded by woods.
Just as they began to shift uncomfortably, the voice rang out again.
'You have one goal here. In order to win the Games, you must remain the last man standing. Kill your opponents, and you walk free.'
Horror filled every man's eyes at the revelation, and quick glances were exchanged between the tributes.
'Oh but don't fret, in order to make things more interesting, each of you will have the opportunity to gain a little outside help. By that I mean that if you prove yourself to your viewers, then you may just gain yourself a Sponsor. Your Sponsor can send you things that may end up saving your life in the long run, so remember to keep that in mind.
One last thing brave Tributes, at the center of the clearing in which you stand lies a Cornucopia filled with weapons and a variety of other items to help you survive. Once the timer hits zero, you may exit your plate and attempt to obtain these items.
Remember, survival is your only key to escaping. Best of luck to you all, and may the odds be ever in your favor.'
As soon as the woman's cheerful voice faded, all eyes landed on the pile of supplies that was stacked in the mouth of the Cornucopia.
Ten. A monotonous voice declared from nowhere in particular.
Feet shuffled nervously.
Nine.
Eyes sought out familiar faces.
Eight.
Silent agreements were made.
Seven.
Reassuring nods were exchanged.
Six.
Hands clenched in anticipation.
Five.
Sweat streamed down.
Four.
Muscles tightened
Three.
Breaths were exhaled.
Two.
Adrenaline coursed through veins.
One.
Confusion was pushed aside.
Zero.
All Hell broke loose.
~()~()~()~()~()~
Dean liked to pride himself on the fact that he was able to adapt to almost anything. Hell, he faced zombies, wendigos, ghosts, lamias, vampires, werewolves, and freaking dragons before, but none of that could have ever hoped to prepare him for what was happening now.
As soon as the wretched voice had spoken that last number, everyone in the clearing burst into chaotic movement as they scrambled for the Cornucopia.
Letting his instincts take over, Dean too burst into action as his powerful legs tore across the open expanse of grass separating him from the supplies. Adrenaline leant speed to his feet, and before he knew it he was at his destination.
Before he was able to grab any of the packs, though, a flurry of movement on his right had him rethinking his strategy and grabbing the nearest weapon to him. Spinning toward the possible threat, Dean brandished the massive hunting knife as he took up an offensive position.
The man that stood in front of him looked more like a boy in appearance, but the fierce, proud look in his bright blue eyes spoke of experience beyond his age. Blonde hair highlighted the man's fair skin and gave him a deceivingly charming appearance, and the strange outfit the man wore made him look like a knight from medieval times.
The large sword held in his hands looked as if it were created for him and him alone, and even Dean had to admire the beautiful blade.
Green eyes locked with blue ones in a battle of wits as both men stood their ground, neither willing to make the first move. Dean could read the hesitancy in the man's eyes that was no doubt reflected in his own. He had no desire to kill anyone, and from the look in the other Tributes eyes, neither did he.
Was he really expected to kill these other men simply because some voice had declared it? Dean only took orders from one man, and that man died years ago protecting him.
~()~()~()~()~
Arthur knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was the strongest, fastest, and most agile knights in all of Camelot, so it came as no surprise to him that he reached the Cornucopia first. What did surprise him, however, was that another man had managed to match his speed the entire way.
Instinctively, his hand found the one sword in the pile of weapons before him, and without a moment of hesitation, Arthur had the blade poised at the other man.
With reflexes as fast as Arthur's own, the other Tribute snatched up a wicked looking hunter's knife and met Arthur's blade with his own. Running his eyes over the other man, Arthur sized up his potential enemy.
Cropped, dirty blonde hair looked almost brown in the shade of the Cornucopia, but the man's green eyes practically glowed from lowered brows. There was something dangerous about the man in front of him, who stood a few inches taller than him, but Arthur was confident that his sword skills could defeat any enemy he crossed.
Tightening his grip on the leather hilt, Arthur hefted the sword higher and raised his eyes to meet the other man's. Arthur had no idea why he was here, or how he had gotten here even, but now he was suddenly being forced to kill others?
The notion didn't sit well with him, taking another's life never did, but if his hand was forced, he had no doubt that he could best his opponent.
~()~()~()~()~
Unlike the other Tributes in the clearing, Sherlock decided against heading for the Cornucopia and instead backed away towards the cover of the woods. Before the clock had even begun its countdown, he had already learned everything he needed to know about the other contestants, and he knew that it would be pointless to engage them in any form of combat at this point in time.
"John!" He shouted for his friend, the slowest of the other tributes, and gestured at him to follow.
The army doctor stopped his advance towards the Cornucopia and looked back at Sherlock confusedly. Gesturing again, impatiently this time, Sherlock continued his retreat to the woods without another glance at John.
Soon enough the sound of footsteps thumped behind him, as he knew they would, and the two vanished into the cover of the trees.
~()~()~()~()~
John Watson had no idea why Sherlock decided against acquiring supplies at the Cornucopia, but he trusted his friend's judgement, which is why he found himself turning away from the clearing and following Sherlock into the forest.
As soon as Sherlock deemed it safe, they slowed their pace and came to a stop behind a tree.
"Why didn't we go towards the Cornucopia? Sherlock, we need those supplies." John said as he attempted to regain his lost breath.
"Think, John. With all those experienced fighters in one place, we'd have never gotten anything without paying with our lives." Sherlock straightened his coat and brushed off imaginary dirt as he leaned against the trunk.
"What makes you think they're all experienced? Hell, we're experienced Sherlock. Surely we could have gotten something. Who knows what was in those packages."
"No." Sherlock stated firmly. "Those two men, the brothers, the way they held themselves says hunters or fighters. Obviously experienced in some form of tracking due to the way they walked, too lightly for men of that height, and a simple recreational hunter wouldn't have achieved that level of stealth, not without years of training, so the obvious explanation points to hunters or fighters of some kind but probably hunters because of the mud and dirt on their clothes and shoes. The mud was dry so it wasn't found here, which only means that they had been doing something in the woods before we were all unceremoniously dumped here. The way the mud is stuck on their boots says they've been hiking through a particularly wet part of the woods and fairly quickly too, hence they can only be hunters or possibly hikers but the way they held themselves on the plates says fighters and the only physically strong, quick, and yet light on their feet kind of person in the woods would be a hunter. And then there's the hair."
Pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes, John resigned himself to the long explanation that was bound to ensue.
"Well how do you know they're brothers?" He enquired.
Sherlock slid his blue eyes towards him. "Obvious, John. Even you could tell if you had only taken a moment to observe the way the shorter one looked at the taller one, and vice versa. The protectiveness in his eyes was there for all of us to see. Without even knowing it, he revealed his biggest weakness before this 'Game' had even begun. Love," Sherlock spoke with slight disgust, "Is a dangerous disadvantage."
John rolled his eyes but chose not to say anything on that matter. Peering around the trunk of the tree, he attempted to catch a glimpse of the clearing.
"Now the other two are slightly harder but the blonde man-"
"Sherlock, stop. You don't need to show off to me, I already know what you do is amazing. If you say they're experienced then I believe you." John cut him off before he could go off on another tangent.
A small smirk lifted the corner of Sherlock's mouth before he pushed off of the trunk and started walking again. "Come on, John. We should keep moving. We can return to the Cornucopia tomorrow. I'm sure the rest will have left or died by then."
Shaking his head, John suppressed the disturbing thought of killing the other innocent tributes and instead headed after the one man he could trust.
~()~()~()~()~
People always used to tell Sam that he wore his heart on his sleeve, and that he could be too nice for his own good at times, but it never bothered him. Sam liked to help people, and he never could turn his back on someone in need, so after the timer had struck zero, and after everyone had taken off in their own direction, Sam hung back a bit so that he wouldn't be forced into a situation he didn't want to find himself in.
He found himself instead watching Dean race across the grass in a mad attempt to reach the Cornucopia before the others. A proud smile lifted his lips when Dean made it there first, but the smile soon fell as he noticed another man was there too, pointing a deadly sword at his brother's chest. His feet were already moving before his brain had even given the command as fear swirled around his chest like a caged beast. Despite his reluctance to take another life, if anyone threatened Dean then Sam wouldn't even hesitate to end them.
His long legs made easy work of the distance between them but just as he was almost upon them his feet collided with something on the ground, taking him crashing to the floor.
A groan sounded from below him, and Sam cast a surprised look towards him feet to find one of the other Tributes also on the ground. The boy (because that's what he was, wasn't he?) had raven black hair and deep blue eyes. A red neckerchief hung at his neck and a rather plain blue shirt and brown jacket adorned the boy as he struggled to stand.
He blinked in surprise at how young the boy looked, younger than him that was for sure, before rolling over and standing up gracefully.
Immediately, Sam's hazel eyes sought out his brother. A sigh of what could only be relief escaped his lips when he saw that both men had yet to move. Taking another glance at the struggling boy, Sam reluctantly gave in and extended his hand in assistance.
"Merlin!" A strong voice cried out, and Sam turned his head to see the blonde Tribute racing towards him.
"Arthur." The raven haired boy breathed out in relief as he too turned towards the blonde Tribute.
There was a protectiveness in the blonde's – Arthur's – eyes that Sam recognized from Dean's own look. Quickly taking his hand back, Sam took a few steps away from the boy, Merlin.
"Sammy!" Dean's familiar voice boomed loudly, and within seconds he was at his side.
"Sam, you okay?" Concern laced his brother's voice as he ran his hand over Sam's shoulder, searching for any kind of wound.
"Dean, I'm fine, I swear." Sam pushed away the probing hand and turned his attention to the other two Tributes who stood before them.
Arthur had grabbed Merlin and pulled him to his feet, and the two stood facing the brothers with identical looks of caution in their blue eyes.
~()~()~()~()~
If there was any time to reveal his magic, then that time was now, as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Arthur, facing off with two dangerous looking men. Merlin could tell that the two men before him were deadly, and that if a fight did break out, then he wasn't so sure that Arthur would get out without a scratch.
The shorter one, Dean, as the other had called him, had a large hunter's knife clenched in his fist. The taller one, Sam, had no weapon, but Merlin was sure that his sheer size and brute strength could prove to be equally as dangerous.
"Arthur, we should run." Merlin shifted nervously.
"Let us get weapons and supplies." Arthur demanded, ignoring Merlin completely.
A wolfish smile spread across Dean's face. "Like Hell I'm letting you get anything. You want some of that?" He nodded towards the Cornucopia, "Then you gotta fight me for it. I'm not letting you get the upper hand in this."
Shifting the knife in his hand, Dean pointed it towards Arthur in challenge.
"Merlin." Arthur stated simply, but Merlin caught on with what he was implying.
"Don't get yourself killed." Merlin said before taking off towards the Cornucopia.
The sound of clashing blades met his ears but he refused to turn around. Arthur had given him a task and he was determined to complete it.
Arriving at the mouth of the Cornucopia, Merlin grabbed the nearest bag and turned to run back when a massive weight collided with him. His feet left the ground completely as he flew back several feet before slamming down into the earth.
The jarring blow knocked the bag from his nerveless fingers. Struggling to regain his senses, he quickly rolled over and sprang to his feet. After a moment of dizzying spinning, the world came into sharp focus once more.
"Sorry about that, but I can't let you take that bag." A voice spoke, and Merlin recognized it as Sam's.
Turning around, Merlin came face to face, or rather, face to chest, with the older Tribute. A gleam of metal to his left had him fixing his gaze on the short sword clenched in Sam's hand.
"Just walk away. I don't want to have to do this."
Merlin took a step back to put distance between them, but he didn't turn to run. Casting a quick glance back towards Arthur to make sure he wasn't looking, he raised his hand towards Sam, palm out.
The thrum of magic warmed his splayed fingers and danced along his outstretched arm.
"No. You walk away." He warned.
The resolve in Sam's eyes was enough to confirm that neither of them was willing to give in, which meant there was only one path left to them.
With the crash of blades as their backdrop, the two Tributes reluctantly commenced in the Games.
I didn't include Cas simply because I thought it would be unfair to have 3 SPN dudes and two from the other shows. He may show up later, though. Also, this chapter was just to set up each character really, which is why the weird formatting with each characters POV, I just wanted to write how each character initially reacted in the beginning. Following chapters will probably only be maybe two ppls POV, and will switch off each chapter, so like the second chapter would maybe be Dean's POV and Sherlock's POV, and the following would be Arthur's POV and Sam's POV or something. This is just a test, so if you don't like this idea then let me know and I'll trash it. If you want me to continue though, then please let me know, because I'm not too sure how this turned out. xD
Please review, and constructive criticism is always welcome.