Here is Chapter One! Hope you enjoy it. If you have any questions or comments please post them:) Thanks for your support! –Shiloh

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games.

Chapter One

John Watson

Sarah gently squeezed my hand, her entire body stiff as she stared at the television suspended on the cream colored walls in front of us. We sat side by side on her couch, our dinners lying untouched on the coffee table. No one in any of the districts of Panem could possibly be hungry at this moment.

Today was the day that President LaMeriole announced the rules of this year's annual Hunger Games. Everyone was extremely frightened, as this year was unfortunately the 100th games, a dreaded quarter quell. LaMeriole had decided to continue where the capitol had left off, starting with the 76th Hunger Games.

Sarah had invited me over to watch The Reaping with her. I had been hesitant to leave Sherlock, but I realized that she needed my comfort and support a whole lot more than the "emotionless, sociopath" I shared a flat with. Still, I kept my mobile phone close to my side, prepared to answer any text he may shoot my way. I could feel Sarah's hand tighten around mine as The Reaping began.

President LaMeriole's style of reaping tributes drastically differed from President Snow's. LaMeriole held a single reaping in The Capitol, surrounded by all of his devoted followers. He would start the ceremony by explaining the events that had led up to his rule. Then he would invite the depressed shells of former victors Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark to the stage. He would explain the set of rules for the current years Games, including the amount of tributes, the genders of tributes, weapons to be used in the arena, and challenges the tributes could overcome in the arena that would earn their families (and themselves if they survived) money and luxuries. It was a sick, twisted concept that loomed over every citizen of Panem from the day they were born, till the day they died.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" LaMeriole's deep voiced boomed out of the speakers implanted in Sarah's television, causing her to jump slightly. I offered her a reassuring smile, and she settled back into her seat.

"It's alright," I assured her. "Everything's going to be all right. The chances that either of us or anyone we know, getting picked to answer the games is incredibly slim." Sarah nodded in agreement, but I could see the fear lurking in her bright eyes.

"Welcome to the 100th Reaping! I trust that everyone had a safe drive here," The President's purred, his charisma dripping off of every word. The crowd loved it. "This year is an exceptional one! That's right everyone, this year is a Quarter Quell!" The crowd began cheering maniacally, and the President gave the camera a knowing smile.

"I trust that everyone in the twenty-two districts is as excited as we are to find out who will represent their district as tributes?" I felt my stomach flip-flop in my stomach, and my phone vibrated at my side. My sweaty fingers fumbled with the keypad, and it took my about thirty seconds to open the text message.

Don't be nervous. You'll be fine. –SH

I smiled down at my phone, touched by friend's kind gesture. I typed a quick thank you, turning my attention back to the screen.

"This year, two tributes over the age of twenty one will be selected from each district. Half of them will be revealed today, and the other will be revealed at the same time tomorrow. A multitude of weapons will be included in the cornucopia, including the usual stock of knives, swords, and arrows. Guns, explosives, and stun guns will also be included in this year. But don't worry, that is only half the fun!" Capitol citizens began to evolve into a further frenzy, urging their leader to continue.

"I trust that you all remember the incident involving our very own District 19." My heart stopped in my chest, and Sarah's face blanched. This couldn't be good.

Five years ago our district hadn't produced enough products for the Capitol. Peace keepers invaded our district, imprisoning and beating people who hadn't paid their dues. Family members and friends of the unfortunate victims began to rebel, staring a miniature up-rising.

Of coarse this hope was squashed as soon as it had arisen. President LaMeriole had somehow managed to stop the up-rising without letting the public know what had happened.

Everyone in our district became terrified. The President didn't take these matters lightly, and we were all sure that he was going to punish us for our actions. But months began to go by, and eventually an entire year passes without any suspicion that our leader was going to commit any harmful acts towards us. Everyone began to carry on their normal lives, thankful that the President had shown mercy. Or so we had thought.

"The events that occurred in District 19 were highly disrespectful and un-expectable. Unfortunately, I will have to teach the residents of the district that what they did was wrong. This year's arena will be District 19. Every citizen will remain within the districts border, and they will WILINGLY accept the fact that they will be pawns in the 100th annual Hunger Games. Any tribute that wishes to earn rewards for themselves and their families can do so by killing a resident of District 19. Each tribute can murder a maximum of twenty-five residents," The President took a pause for dramatic effect. "If any resident of District 19 harms or kills a tribute, they will be executed along with the rest of their families, and the rest of the district will be forced into slavery."

Sarah began to sob next to me, burying her head in my shirt. I gently stroked her hair, my eyes wide. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not us.

My automatic instinct was to call Sherlock. He would know what to do. He always knew what to do. Sherlock would come up with a brilliant plan that would get us out of this situation.

"Shhhh," I soothed the hysterical woman sitting next to me. My nerves were shot as well, and I must admit that I felt like breaking down into tears myself. "It's ok. Keep listening." Sarah sniffled and lifted her head off my chest, re-focusing on the President.

"And now, we shall select one tribute, male or female, from each district. Including 19." The President gestured for Katniss and Peeta to approach the microphone. The sad couple did as told, their gazes trained on the stage beneath them.

"District One. Hector Mixson." Katniss began.

"District Two. Lois Nixon." Peeta followed. They continued to alternate.

"District Three. Kaymen Houston."

"District Four. Hazel Reyes."

"District Five. Mikel Candelence."

The couple continued to list names, but I found it hard to pay attention. Even if I wasn't selected to participate in this horrible game, anyone of these people could kill me. I shuddered at the thought.

"District Eighteen. June Rillingmon." My heart sped up. My district was next. I wrapped my arm around Sarah, trying to offer as much support as I could.

"District Nineteen. Sherlock Holmes." My jaw dropped and I felt my heart skip a beat. Sarah turned to look at me, sympathy and tears already beginning to well up in her eyes.

"I'm so sorr-" I was out the door before she could finish her sentence. The only thing on my mind was 22l B Baker Street, and the Detective who resided there.

Thanks for reading:) Please Review! If you want me to read any of your fics I'd be glad too! Have a great day:) -Shiloh