I was fighting back the thoughts, the door was barely holding now, the hinges struggling. I searched desperately for the shoes, somewhere, somewhere. I threw the office supplies into the wall in desperation, falling off the bed and diving underneath into the dark unknown. It was there, I found it. I squeezed back into the light before the first memory burst out. The fire, burning down the trees, the birds, the grass around my feet. I plunged the needle into my arm as the fire was racing up my leg, and it stopped. The memory stopped, my fears stopped, all was well. I sighed in relief as a nice veil of peacefulness settled over me; the thought went back in the door, which was resealing itself, all fine and dandy. I leaned against the bed, burying my face into the mattress with a soft sigh. It was alright now. There was a knock on the door, and I quickly came to my senses, knowing it must be John. I stuffed everything back into the shoe hastily and shoved it back under the bed.
"Hey Sherlock, let me in!" he called.
"Sorry, busy…" I muttered loudly. My words were slurred and my vision was fuzzy, but my brain was relaxed, and that was all that mattered.
"Are you okay in there?" John called.
"I'm fines!" I insisted. There was a monetary pause, at which John decided what to do.
"Sherlock you don't sound like yourself." He pointed out.
"Go away, I'm thinking!" I yelled, louder than I meant to. I heard his retreating footsteps, but that was all. I pulled myself onto the bed and collapsed, burying my head in the pillow. I hoped that would keep John away for now. Thankfully he didn't bother me for another hour, which was the estimated time frame that I got back to being normal. My mind raced again, but the door held this time. I walked into the bathroom, cleaning my face with cold water and running a brush through my hair hastily. I then proceeded to unlock the door and walk into the living room, where John and Mrs. Hudson were talking. He looked preoccupied though, worried even, and when I came out he seemed extremely relieved.
"Hey Sherlock, you okay?" he asked nervously.
"I'm fine, sorry for yelling at you." I muttered, sitting in an empty armchair.
"It's fine, I would've done the same, sorry for bothering you." He muttered, as if Mrs. Hudson had made him prepare those lines. I sighed, wanting more, I had started to build up a bit of a tolerance, it didn't have as long of an effect as it had before. I would need more soon.
"Are you okay though? I was worried about you." John said truthfully.
"I'm fine, a little bit unstable though, being back here and all." I admitted.
"Well, I'm sure we all are." Mrs. Hudson assured. I was talking more to John, but I smiled in agreement. Mrs. Hudson was the only person in our little party that wasn't and was never going to be in the games herself, so she's the only one that didn't understand the horror and terror the entire atmosphere creates.
"Well, I need to look at the map, if you don't mind." John said in a particularly low voice, as if trying to hide his voice from Mrs. Hudson. That's another thing you wouldn't expect from her, she has ears like a hawk for gossip. If she thinks you're saying something secret, forget even trying to hide it from her and get away with it.
"What map dears?" she asked.
"Sorry, mentor business." I shrugged, as if it were some type of top secret project. I knew I could probably trust her with the information, but I didn't want her wanting to know every little detail and to see it and all in all it would be more trouble than it's worth. She just nodded, as if she understood why it's secret and let the two of us migrate back to my room and close the door.
"I've remembered a little something about the guy from eleven." He said, scribbling a little note down on the sticky note. When he was done, he looked around at the destroyed room.
"It's a mess in here, what happened?" he asked with surprise.
"I told you, I got a little bit freaked." I sighed.
"About what?" he asked.
"I locked up the memories, I'm sorry, I can't talk about it." I said simply.
"Locked them up?" he asked curiously.
"I put them behind a mental door, so I can't just think about them. It's difficult, but if I start talking or thinking, the door cracks and this happens." I said, gesturing around the room.
"Oh." John muttered, obviously not liking my answer.
"Are you okay though? Are you going to have nightmares?" he asked.
"Are you?" I added.
"I don't know, I can't really help it if I do." John decided.
"Last night was the first night I haven't had a nightmare since the games." I admitted.
"I guess you just needed a big strong man to protect you." John laughed, standing up taller and trying to puff out his chest.
"Well, when one of those comes around tell me." I laughed, and John just laughed. "What were you dreaming about anyway?" I asked.
"Oh, I was in some type of cave, and the tributes were all swarmed around it, common nightmare really."
"You know if you die in your dream they say you die in real life." I pointed out.
"But then you showed up, and they all ran away." John shrugged, ignoring my comment. I smiled; it was nice to think that he actually dreamed about me.
"I was just too scary, obviously." I laughed.
"It was probably the smell." John shrugged. I just rolled my eyes and sat down on the bed with a sigh.
"That won't happen you know? They won't all team up against you. Maybe the careers, but not everyone. That's why you need allies." I pointed out.
"Who would want to be an ally with me?" John asked, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
"Well, I know that Jeff kid probably doesn't have one yet." I guessed.
"Wasn't the point of an ally someone who could keep both of you safe?" John pointed out.
"True. Anyone else that you might think of?" I asked.
"No one comes to mind." John shrugged, looking around the map. "But then again, Allies don't seem to be such a good idea, I know that you work together and all, but in the end one of you has to die."
"They have advantages, but you just can't get attached, because sooner or later you'll have to be the one to kill them." I said simply. That was also the analogy for us here, I couldn't get attached, but no matter how many times I tell myself that, I just fall deeper and deeper into this pit.
"On that positive note, I think I should probably get ready for bed." he decided, looking at the clock. It was only nine, but I guess he should be getting as much sleep as he could. I nodded, half of me wanting him to stay here, the other half hoping I could come with him. I wanted sleep, it had been such a great thing to actually get some for once, and it wasn't even drug induced, it was simply his presence.
"Good night, I guess." I agreed as he made his way to the door.
"And Sherlock, if you, you know, need someone, or you have a nightmare, my door's unlocked." He said, the words I was looking for.
"Be careful what you offer, I'll remember that." I said with relief.
"Hey, I'll probably need someone too." he pointed out, and with that he slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. I changed quickly into my pajamas and collapsed into bed, turning out the light with a little remote and stuffing my head into the pillows, trying to force myself to fall asleep. , I'll remember that." I said with relief.
"Hey, I'll probably need someone too." he pointed out, and with that he slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. I changed quickly into my pajamas and collapsed into bed, turning out the light with a little remote and stuffing my head into the pillows, trying to force myself to fall asleep. But I lay awake; I couldn't help think what time would be appropriate to go over there without looking like a complete creep. I kept my mind off anything to do with the games, with Irene, or anything coming up in the next couple of days. At twelve thirty I decided maybe it would be an okay time to go over, maybe he'd be asleep. I rolled out of bed and crept into the hallway, looking around to make sure no one was awake to get the wrong message. I knew there would be suspicion, especially from Irene, who still had no idea about what was actually going on here. But it was dark and silent, and apparently I was the only one awake. As I walked I felt the charm bounce off my chest, and I realized I still had it on. I never slept with it on, just in case I actually choke myself of something. It was an odd paranoid, but those come as a free bonus with the games. I opened the door to his room cautiously, seeing his figure lying still in the bed in the sliver of moonlight coming in from out here. I closed it silently and was happy to see the chair was still there, fully reclined, but this time it had a blanket draped over top of it. As quietly as I could, I curled into a little ball on the leather seat, pulling the blanket over top of me and trying to close my eyes and fall asleep.
"Nightmare?" John asked in a sleepy mutter, making me jump a little bit, but I nodded. It was complete lie, but I was here because I wanted to avoid an actual nightmare, so it was kind of the same thing, maybe.
"You're such a baby." He said with a laugh, but I just smiled. To my surprise and secret delight, he extended his hand to me, which I gladly took. This time he interlocked our fingers, which made my lungs seem to shrink. I did my best to try to look like it wasn't affecting me, that I wasn't blushing like a tomato and I wasn't breathing heavily. But apparently I didn't need to, because John's eyes closed and before in knew it he was snoring peacefully. I smiled to myself, but I closed my eyes as well, finding that sleep came a lot easier now that I had John next to me.
When I woke up I noticed that the bed next to me was empty, just a ball of sheets resembled that anyone was ever there. My hand was lying on the bed still, but it was empty. I heard the sound of a shower going behind the closed door, and knew that must be where he must be. I just pulled the blanket above my chin and tried to fall back asleep, but I ended up just lying there with my eyes closed. After a while the door opened, and John stepped out of the steamy room dressed in the training room outfit, tight black clothes with red stripes on them. He had a golden number Twelve in the corner, and he was drying his hair off the best he could with a white towel.
"Good morning." He said with a smile, throwing the towel back into the bathroom and shutting off the light.
"You could've woken me up." I pointed out, sitting up with a yawn.
"You were fast asleep, snoring like a little kitten too." he added.
"A kitten snores?" I asked.
"Really tiny and high pitched, ya." John agreed. I frowned at the connection; I didn't want to be compared to a kitten. I got to my feet, folding the blanket up and tying my robe together. I looked at the clock, eight thirty only.
"When do you have to be at training?" I asked.
"Ten. Now we don't have to rush." He pointed out.
"Hey, that wasn't my fault last time!" I defended.
"Sure." He hissed, walking out the door. I groaned, shuffling over to my room again to get dressed and decent for the day ahead. I didn't have to do much, but I decided I wanted to find out what the terrain in the arena might be like so I can give John the stations he might need. It would take a lot of numbers and calculations, but I had a brain and a whole lot of time, so I think it might be possible. I walked back out of the room, again in the purple shirt because apparently someone had washed it for me. The Avoxes must have been here yesterday. I wasn't a big fan of people rooting around my room, it was kind of private, and god forbid they find the shoe. I decided they can't talk, so the most they can do is point to it and make angry facial expressions or something. I walked back to the living room, where Molly was sitting on her laptop and John was flipping through channels on the TV.
"Good morning Sherlock." She said with a smile. I just groaned, collapsing on the couch next to John and sticking my feet on the coffee table. Molly gave me a glance of annoyance, but I ignored it. The TV channels were pathetic, they were either talking about the upcoming games, sitcoms, or cartoons. After a while John just turned the thing off, there was never anything on at this time.
"It's good to see you aren't late, like last time." Molly decided, closing the laptop with a smile. I knew she was suspicious again, but even if she believed we were in a relationship that was her problem. It was Mrs. Hudson I would be worried about; she'd go around telling everyone who would listen that the seemingly heartless Sherlock Holmes had fallen for a poor tribute. That would definitely make the news.
"Why are you up so early?" John asked her.
"I didn't sleep well." She shrugged.
"Well, I'm sure Irene is open for counseling." I laughed.
"Sherlock!" John hissed, and I shut up. I thought it was funny thought to imagine Irene and Molly holding hands to fall asleep, Irene's fake fingernails would scratch all the skin off of her hand probably.
"It's amazing that in only four or so days you can make him shut up and in two years he doesn't even say good morning to me." Molly pointed out. I knew it was supposed to be a joke, but she sounded legitimately sorry for herself.
"Good morning Molly." I muttered, as if to show that I could actually say good morning without blowing myself up. John looked kind of awkward, like he didn't know what to say to that, so he just kept his mouth shut.
"I don't shut up just because he tells me to." I pointed out defensively.
"Well, when I politely tell you to be quiet it seems like you complain even louder." Molly insisted. John just laughed quietly at that.
"He complains plenty to me too, don't worry Molly." John assured.
"Well, I'm happy to hear that. At least he hasn't completely gone peaceful." Molly laughed.
"That's not possible." John agreed.
"Is it beat up on Sherlock day or what?" I defended.
"Every other day yes." John agreed. I just playfully hit his arm, pretending to be mad at him, but finding his smile able to clear up any bad feeling at the moment.
"I think it's great that you found a friend Sherlock." Molly assured, as if I needed her permission. I just rolled my eyes and ignored that comment. Mrs. Hudson arrived a little bit later, dressed and ready for the day ahead.
"Good morning lovelies!" she said happily. I just frowned; I didn't like being called a 'lovely' and a kitten in the same day. I think everyone forgets that I murdered people. I shuddered at that casual thought, no, I didn't murder, I defended myself. I was not a murderer, I was a victim.
"Good morning Mrs. Hudson." Molly and John both replied. I just grunted my good morning, because it wasn't that great of a morning, it was just another regular morning. I only had three more mornings with John anyway, so I'm thinking it's not so great of a day.
"Should we get Irene up, breakfast should be ready soon." Mrs. Hudson suggested.
"I'm not in the mood to be yelled at by Irene, but since Molly is her mentor I'm sure she'll be glad to." I decided with a small smile.
"We don't have to wait for her, I'm sure she'll get up soon. Besides, we didn't wake those two up yesterday." Molly pointed out. She was obviously thinking along the same lines as I had been, both of us had a little bit of a fear for Irene, she was pretty nasty. As if on cue, a whole bunch of Avoxes came from seemingly nowhere, carrying platters of breakfast food to our table and setting the table up all fancy.
"Well, I guess when time starts to crunch we should get her up, but for now I guess she can sleep." Mrs. Hudson agreed, but I think the food changed her mind. All of us were hungry, and obviously we weren't in the mood to be yelled at while we eat.
