The Fault In Our Factions (Chapter 1)

Science & Faith

BBC Sherlock / Divergent / Hunger Games Crossover

Summary: A certain sixteen-year-old John Watson is getting closer to Choosing Ceremony Day, where he must decide his own faith in one of five factions; Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Dauntless, or Erudite. When in his new faction he meets a girl named Katniss Everdeen, possibly one of the fiercest females he's ever come across. A little side field trip takes them to the other factions where they meet trusty allies. When things go wrong, both John and Katniss must flee beyond the borders of the factions into unknown lands, taking a few helpful friends along with them on their journey.

Characters & Ages

Sherlock Holmes (16), John Watson (16), Katniss Everdeen (16), Mycroft Holmes, Molly Hooper (16), Gale Hawthorne (17), Greg Lestrade (16), Mary Morstan (16), Jim Moriarty (16), Sally Donovan (16), Phillip Anderson (16), Primrose Everdeen (10), Harriet Watson (19)

*I do not own any of these fandoms. They rightfully belong to Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Veronica Roth, and Suzanne Collins. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.*

The door of my closet is a single panel that is made up of a mirror and a silver frame. The wheels squeak every time I slide the door to the right to extract my outfit for the day, as I've never bothered to fix it in my free time. I've never been fond of the wailing screech it gives off either; loud noises distract me and almost split my head open.

My wardrobe consists of lots of plaid and comfy jeans, but the thing that stands out when you first open the door is the distinct colors of red and yellow. Our faction has chosen these colors to represent Amity, and we're actually one of the luckier factions. Abnegation has to wear grey all the time, but we can wear whatever we please as long as one of our colors is present at all times. That's no problem with me and my sense of fashion. Normally, I just wear my watch which is a dark shade of red, so that way I don't have to worry about clashing with my other colors on my clothing.

I have a favorite black jacket with two buttoned pockets across the chest area that I absolutely love, and it hangs securely on a hook on the left wall next to my collection of jumpers. Everything is on the left side of my closet, my dominant side, and for a male I'm not entirely sure how I am so neat and organized. My shirts are all hung up together, my pants folded in half over the hangers, and my two belts sit on the shelf I can just barely reach on my tiptoes.

I select my most familiar pair of jeans and a navy blue shirt. There are also two pockets stitched over my chest near the level of my heart, and to show my dedication to my faction I slip on a yellow wristband with tree leaves etched into the rubber surface. That's the symbol of Amity; a tree. Our faction values peace and friendships, and as we're reminded daily, our motto is, "Open arms, open eyes, forgiving hearts."

But sometimes, I feel like I've got to close my eyes, just to open my soul out to the world. Live and love.

I always dress in the far corner of my room so I'm as far from the window as possible, regardless if I have the blinds closed or not. We live in a fairly compacted area with lots of people going about with their usual business, and even though I trust almost everyone that I've come to know in my faction, I still deserve some privacy. Families in Amity tend to get together for a gathering every weekend for a feast; this tends to bring outsiders into the group and meet new faces. I enjoy them myself and have met a few kids who attend school with me, one being my best friend Mike Stamford.

Amity initiates do almost everything together. Dinner is eaten with everyone sitting around the table, and no one leaves until everyone is finished. We spend at least two hours a day with our families, and after I finish my homework in my room I like to chat with my mother in the kitchen while she makes a light snack for me to munch on. Our faction is responsible for the shipping of produce, so we usually receive the best foods first before the rest of the fresh ingredients are sent off to other places.

I just finish buttoning my shirt when the first sign of sunlight peers through the cracks in the blinds covering my window. I made sure when I rearranged my bedroom to make sure my mattress didn't come in contact with the light at all, as I never wanted to be disturbed by my sleep from blinding rays of heat. I make sure to leave some of the clasps open at the top of my shirt to show a slight outline of the red tank top I wear underneath. I have very little yellow in my clothing, but I figure a bracelet couldn't hurt that much. I bend my spine over and pick up my brown belt from the carpeted floor, hearing the buckle click against my thigh. Before slipping it into the loops in my pants, I slide my closet door shut to return it to its proper position.

A short, skinny boy of sixteen stares blankly back at me. In fact, I just turned sixteen not even three months ago. And today is the most important school day of my life. My blonde hair is specifically swept over the top of my skull, always parted in the exact same place and flattened as much as I can manage to press it down. Broad, muscular shoulders are pulled down and back confidently while strong arms hang by my sides. I stand with my feet a few inches apart, oddly turned out from a natural habit I've developed over the years. Cheeks with some remaining baby fat stick out from my pale skin, and a wider nose than most people is in the center of my face; I never liked the odd shape of it. I've gotten strange comments about how my facial complexion makes me resemble a hedgehog when I smile showing my teeth, but I never see it when I look in the mirror.

But the thing that stands out the most about me undeniably is my eyes. Nobody has irises like me. Deep blue with silver lining the pupils, they can express any sort of expression I need to without much effort. Sometimes, if I look closely, I can almost see ocean waves crashing in them. Or maybe when I'm in a dreamy state they'll be a sky blue galaxy containing thousands of stars that represent happiness and serve a job of sparking the twinkle in my eyes. Or perhaps when I'm angry, I'll spot flickering blue flames of a fire roaring up to flash a warning look at the person they're directed attention is on.

They're basically a blue tidal wave of a fire galaxy that I was blessed with the gift of being born with them. And you know what? I wouldn't trade them out for anything except for maybe a tint of mint green to add to their stunning painted appearance.

Anything.

My fingers fumble with my leather belt as I hook it through the loops. Then, securing it through the third hole at the front, I straighten up and stare back at myself in the glass. Everyone of the age of sixteen should be nervous today.

Because today, our own fate is decided. You'll know where you really belong, but that doesn't mean you should follow your results.

Your test results.

To be honest, you should go with your gut feeling. Just because some stupid test tells you where you should belong shouldn't mean you should be forced to choose another faction.

That's what I'm doing today. At school, all the sixteen-year-old teenagers will be tested through some sort of simulation to debate where our loyalties truly lie. There are five factions that the human race divided themselves into; five groups based on different personalities and beliefs so everyone could live in harmony and be run by a government. Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Dauntless, and Erudite. I've heard rumors that they're others as well, but if you're considered one of them you're basically a threat to society.

A mouse caught in a trap that you can't escape.

And once your results are exposed, you must decide who you really side with. The following day, we're all sent to the Choosing Ceremony to select our new and permanent homes. You can either choose to remain with your family or leave them behind. But if you switch factions, you hardly ever get to see them again.

Because of the saying, "Faction before blood."

I have an older sister who's nineteen named Harriet. I've asked for her interjections on the aptitude tests, but she's refused to say a word ever since I mentioned them. Supposedly you're not supposed to share your results with anyone or discuss how it went. She also went through the Choosing Ceremony process and chose Amity, so she remained loyal to her own faction.

I however, on the other hand, am not so sure about staying.

Not because of anything bad about my faction, but just because there are a lot of transfers every year. Some people think its betrayal if you switch out, but most people choose the right one based on where they believe they belong.

Where they'll fit in.

The door to my bedroom slowly pushes open as my mother knocks to enter. I don't bother to give my parents permission to come in, seeing as they always look after me and do whatever they need to in order to protect me. I'd trust them with anything. But my sister on the other hand, she's a different story. She's made some bad decisions lately.

My mother comes in with a sweet smile on her face and stares at me with care in her heart. She loves me so much, and so does my father for that matter. Her curly blonde hair comes down to her shoulders, and her blue-grey eyes are nothing compared to mine. I suppose I got both the blue-eyed genes from my parents when I was born, causing my irises to absorb all the color.

"Look at you. My boy, all grown up." I grin and stare at the floor in shame, my cheeks becoming hot and turning an alarming shade of pink.

"Mum, don't embarrass me," I point out, tucking four fingers on both my hands into my pants' pockets while I let my thumbs hang out.

"So, today is the day."

"Not quite," I correct her. "That's tomorrow. I think the Choosing Ceremony is more well-known."

She lifts her graceful hand up and runs her smooth nails over my cheekbone. Her touch is always warm and helps me calm down. "Are you nervous?" she asks, her hand falling to my collar bone.

"A little." I admit it because I don't want to say a false statement to my mother. "But, at least I'm not stressing or anything."

She tugs my arm and pulls me out into the hallway. "Come. I'll make you a good breakfast so you won't starve by the time it's all over and done with."

Just at the mention of the first meal of the day, I could already taste maple bacon in my mouth and scrambled eggs melting on my tongue. And just for good measure, I always wash it down with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

Marshmallows included.

On the way to school, I can't help but plug my nose from the gross smell the bus gives off. The pipe in the back of the vehicle gives off black smoke that puffs into deformed clouds and drifts away into the air. Such terrible damage to the environment.

It's a good thing regardless of the chatter-filled ride that my stop is the last one, so I only have to stay seated for ten minutes before we reach the building. Hundreds of people stumble out of various modes of transportation, and I lean up against a pole to wait for the last students to show up before I head off inside.

The Dauntless children arrive in a train that zips by like a cheetah, and they're all crazy enough to jump out of the cars while their ride is still moving. Some I notice land on their feet, but others stumble like their drunk and do a face plant in the grass. I can't help but give off a snort as I turn to walk through the front doors.

My first class of the day is history, and I'm one of the lucky ones who doesn't have to sit next to an Erudite student who knows everything. They're such show offs. They'll spit out their knowledge about any subject with ease like their brains have a computer chip implanted in them. I suppose sitting next to a Dauntless kid is rough too. All they do is basically give you dirty looks and crack their knuckles for fun. I swear they'll all have fat finger by the time they're twenty. Almost all of them also have some sort of tattoo or ghastly piercing somewhere. Whether it's the eyebrow, nose, or normal ear piercing, they've got one somewhere.

I don't mind the Abnegation much, probably because they value other peoples' lives before their own. They're the selfless ones. You can spot them easily in a crowded hallway because they all wear grey clothing. The girl with red hair who sits next to me in my first period is from Abnegation, and she's one of the nicest people I've met. Her name's Molly and she's very shy.

And then there's Candor. They're okay as well, but because their open in opinion about everything, it can get obnoxious sometimes. Like one of the kids in my math class, all he does is criticize my clothing or writing style. There's nothing wrong with my writing; unless it's a stupid reason like the fact that I'm left-handed.

I turn the corner and nearly get smacked in the face by a backpack that belongs to an Erudite. The joy of having great reflexes is that I was able to block it easily. The one thing I make sure to check for damage is my journal. I've had a strange fixation with writing and tend to keep a record of the ridiculous events that happen in my life. I give each dedicated event a title, writing the date in the upper right corner and off I go. My imagination can roam free wherever it will take me.

I pass a girl on my left with long, brown hair that's pulled back in a braid. She's somehow managed to make it cross diagonally down her head and finish out lying casually over her right shoulder. Pretty sweet hairstyle, actually. She's dressed in almost all blue, and I can assume from her stance that she is from Erudite.

I walk alone to my class because none of my friends study the same subjects I do. But sometimes it's best to be alone. I huddle my textbooks into my ribs as the door of my classroom comes into view, and I dodge a group of Candor boys before slipping in through the crack and taking my seat near the middle of the room, located right next to the teacher's desk. Maps litter the walls and the last students jog to catch their classes before it's too late and the morning bell sounds.

I guess it's a good thing I have history first. It will take my mind off things.

Well, for now.