I must have fallen asleep because I was woken up with loud banging on the door. I groaned, I felt perfectly fine now, it must've worn off. Ugh.
"What!" I called.
"Dinner's ready!" it was Mrs. Hudson.
"I'm not hungry!" I pointed out.
"Sherlock you haven't eaten anything in almost two days, come out here or I swear I will break this door down and drag you out!" she threatened. The sad thing is, I believed her. I dragged myself to my feet, stumbling to the door and blinking away the sleep I had. The light stung my eyes, but thankfully the sun was going down, so there wasn't any real sunlight.
"Is he okay?" I asked hopefully.
"For now, but he really needs water." Molly sighed.
"Then we have to get him some!" I insisted.
"You need to sit and eat, we already made a plate for you." Molly insisted, pushing me towards a chair. The plate in front of me had steak, broccoli, and potatoes, the classic meal. I didn't want to eat, I felt like I'd throw up, but nevertheless I picked up my fork and started to pick at the food.
"Were you sleeping?" Molly asked as she twirled some spaghetti onto her fork.
"I was yes." I snapped.
"Nightmares?" Mrs. Hudson asked. No, for once, I was high, but I just nodded, that would be what they were expecting. I picked at the potatoes on my plate with the fork, trying think of a good way to distract them long enough for me to throw this slop out the window. The TV showed another girl, the one who had climbed up the volcano; she had reached the top apparently. She was standing on top, looking inside at the bubbling lava. It was a too close to the top to make me feel comfortable. If he was going to go out, I didn't want him to burn to death in this lava. The girl looked nervous, but dropped a couple of stones in the lava. They sunk, but left a cloud of dark smoke rising. I didn't know what she was expecting to happen, them to burn or to bounce back, it was obviously lava idiot.
"Eat Sherlock." Molly insisted. I stuffed a mouthful of broccoli into my mouth, but I immediately thought I was going to throw up. It took a lot just to swallow the vegetables.
"Are we going out again?" I asked hopefully.
"As long as you're up for it I suppose." Molly agreed.
"I'm fine." I lied. I wasn't fine, and part of me wished that she could see that. The TV switched perspectives and it was John this time, the first time I've seen him since this morning. He looked awful; he was coughing and looking around desperately. The smile that was once on his face was long gone, and I was pretty sure he wouldn't be making any jokes for a while. His clothes were dusty and dirty, there were small cuts on his face from God knows what and it broke my heart into so many little pieces that I doubt even duct tape could fix it.
"No, go now." I decided.
"We're not going anywhere until you finish your meal." Molly decided, but I could tell she didn't want it to come to that. She wanted John also, just not as much as I did. She wouldn't be left to death like grief if he died. I stuffed as much food into my mouth as possible once John's image left the screen. I ate that plate of food faster than any of us thought imaginable, draining a glass of water and making my hair look presentable as I walked to the elevator.
That night was wasted apparently; no one gave us any money even though my throat was starting to hurt from talking so much. We tried everything we could possible try, the sappy love story, the guilt trip, I even flirted with one of the girls and if that's not determination I don't know what is. The only thing that we got out of that night was a phone number scribbled on a napkin, and I dumped it in the nearest trash can I could find on the way back home. The streets were close to deserted; everyone was either at home or at a restaurant, enjoying their evening. I was getting less and less patient; I couldn't stand this anymore, I had a job to do and I wasn't doing it. I was angry, storming down the street at a pace that Molly had to jog to keep up with.
"Sherlock wait!" she called, but I had no reason to wait for her. "Sherlock it's not your fault!" she insisted, catching up to me finally.
"YES IT IS MY FAULT!" I screamed, stopping where I was to let my anger out. I knew she didn't deserve it, but she was about to snap my last nerve. "JOHN IS IN THERE AND I CAN'T HELP HIM, I CAN'T DO MY BLOODY JOB!" my voice echoed off the dark street, and Molly just stood there in shock, not knowing what to do.
"Sherlock you're doing all you can!" she assured.
"THERE HAS TO BE MORE!" I kicked a metal trash can, the closest thing I could find. Unfortunately it was nailed to the ground, so all I got was an extreme amount of pain, not as much as I deserve though. My hands were clenched into fists; I was physically shaking with rage. "THERE HAS TO BE MORE I CAN DO!" I repeated. Molly was out of words, she looked terrified and I didn't blame her. If anyone else was in her situation they'd be running for their lives. I didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she stayed.
"You have broken almost every rule you have for yourself to try, you went out in public, talked to people you've never seen before, you even flirted with a girl! If someone told me that would happen a week ago I would've laughed in their faces! You have gone to the ends of the earth to do whatever you can and you still think you haven't done enough!" Molly debated, looking like she was on the verge of tears. I didn't know what she would cry, this was my battle not hers.
"HE'S STILL IN THERE, HE'S SUFFERING AND DYING! I'M LEFT HERE TO TRY TO COPE WITHOUT HIM BUT MOLLY I CAN NOT!" I started, breathing heavily and hoping no one was on this street. "I have tried everything to get a good night's sleep, to live my life without the fear of that arena, everything under this bloody sun, and the only thing that worked was when he was with me, when his hand was in mine, I slept like a baby." Molly looked torn between beating me up and hugging me, part of me thought she was able to do both if she really wanted to. "He was the single best thing that happened to me, and I've lost him in less than a week. Maybe this is why I haven't trusted myself to feel like normal people do, why I locked up all my emotions because this is what happens when I try to think that I can love someone. I'm left alone, and scared, and angry, worse than I was before but this time I know there is something that I can do, and I'm not doing it correctly." I felt like a weight had been removed from my shoulders, talking about it even though it was angry, it helped more than I thought it would've. Admitting that this was new, that I felt hopeless, someone to sit and listen was more than I could've asked for. Molly just walked up to me and gave me a hug. Even though it was not returned, just the fact that I let her be within two feet of me was probably saying something. I heard her sniffle; she was fighting back tears almost as much as I was.
"If any sponsor had heard that, you'd have all the money in the world." she muttered. She led me back to the apartment, and now the toll of what I had said was taking place. I was too embarrassed to walk beside her, I walked far behind, I didn't want her to look at me. She had thought I was an emotionless freak before, and now all the sudden here I was losing my mind over a boy, I felt like a whiny teenager who was being judged by his mother. But she didn't bring it up the whole walk back, or the elevator ride, and when I locked myself in my room neither one of them came knocking. I flipped on the TV and went into the bathroom, splashing my face with cold water. My reflection in the mirror looked so normal; if I didn't know myself I might have thought I was normal. But if I stared into my eyes I could see the hurt that was buried deep, all of this mental and physical pain that was eating me alive. That night I went to bed early, sticking two syringes in my arm this time and trying to have a peaceful, dreamless sleep. Somehow my eyes did shut, and I actually fell asleep, a task, in this manner, that I thought impossible.
"Sherlock wake up." someone was at my bedside, which was odd, since I thought I locked my door. I opened my eyes and saw the outline of a short, muscular man. He smiled down at me with hazel eyes and I thought my heart must've stopped.
"John?" I muttered.
"Don't look so surprised Sherlock, I'd never leave you." He assured.
"You're, you're in the arena, you're dying." I pointed out, trying to shake myself out of this miserable dream. It was haunting me, John was haunting me, but when he placed his hand on top of mine it was solid.
"You don't think much of me do you?" he asked with a laugh. He was wearing his pajamas, and not the tribute outfit they had given him, he was clean, fresh, and innocent.
"How'd you get out?" I asked with amazement.
"To see you of course." He said, as if I was supposed to take that as an answer. He sank onto the bed with me, holding my hand close to his face and smiling. "I couldn't leave my best man here to suffer."
"Too late." I muttered.
"There's no need to be worried for me Sherlock, I'll be fine." He assured.
"I could've helped you though; I failed…" he shushed me quietly, and I closed my mouth immediately, worrying that if I upset him he would leave again.
"You did all you can, and that was all that I could ever ask for." John assured. I smiled at his reassurance; maybe I was doing something right after all. "I understand you got my message, from the arena?" he asked.
"It was so nice to hear you again." I said.
"I wasn't lying Sherlock, I may have been a little bit psycho in there, but I meant it. And I loved that kiss as much as you had." He said, stroking my cheek with his freehand. I shivered at the touch, he was here, solid, somehow someway and this was the best thing that I could've ever wished for.
"I meant it to. I love you John." I repeated. He nodded as if that was old news, which I guess in some way it was. And then he kissed me, this time with a lot more passion than in the tube. That had been a desperate kiss; this was one that was telling me to stay with him forever. And of course I would never leave him, never let him slip from me again.
When I woke up John was gone, but I remembered the night vividly. That couldn't have been fake, he was so, real, it couldn't have just been a wild hallucination. I rolled out of bed, looking around the room to see if he was on the ground or something. He was here, I fell asleep next to him, or was I asleep the whole time? I pulled on my robe and unlocked my door, walking into the living room where Mrs. Hudson and Molly were already up. They looked more excited than I wanted them to be, they should be as miserable as I was.
"Good news Sherlock!" Molly exclaimed. I looked at her with annoyance, there was no such thing as good news anymore, surely she should understand that more than anyone.
"What?" I asked.
"He found water!" she exclaimed. Even though the night I had, I smiled the expression almost hurting my face since it felt like I haven't smiled in ages.
"You're serious?" I asked, as if she was just trying to cheer me up.
"There was a little pond and he managed to sanitize some water, he's up and on the move again." Molly said. My face dropped a little bit, realizing what that meant.
"So, he's still in there?" I asked. They both looked as confused as I felt.
"Of course dear, where could he go?" Mrs. Hudson asked. I shook my head, of course he hadn't been real last night, of course he was just a hallucination. The fact that he could've gotten out was way too ridiculous.
"Nothing, just, hoped he wasn't." I muttered. Molly looked slightly suspicious, she knew that I had been resorting to things to fall asleep, by now she had to have realized that I was getting high almost every night.
"Let me guess, dreams?" Mrs. Hudson asked, stirring her tea around. I nodded, taking a seat on the couch but couldn't help smiling.
"He's okay then?" I asked, not willing to believe it.
"Maybe he heard your speech, it wouldn't be impossible." Molly suggested. I glared at her, disappointed that Mrs. Hudson didn't look surprised. Obviously she had been told about what happened.
"So you've been informed." I sighed.
"We're worried about you Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.
"There's nothing to be worried about." I defended.
"Drugs?" Mrs. Hudson pointed out. I looked up at her with surprise.
"What about them?" I asked in a bored expression. I didn't expect to be confronted like this; I didn't want them to go poking around in my private life.
"Oh come on, Molly was smart enough to figure that out, when you say everything under the sun we can figure out it's drugs." She insisted.
"I'm not on drugs, I haven't sunken that low yet." I defended. Molly held up a shoe, my shoe in fact, the drug shoe.
"Where did you get that!" I demanded.
"I got it when you were asleep, not too hard to pick a lock." She shrugged, dumping the multiple syringes into her hand. "You were, well, cuddling your pillow." Molly said in a small voice. I felt myself blushing, but I was too worried about them finding about the drug shoe than my hallucinations.
"Did you have a warrant?" I defended, holding out my hands for the shoe and its contents.
"No, but we have every right to search. Drugs lead you down a dangerous path Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said.
"I've already been down the dangerous path, that's why I need them, to keep me from remembering it." I pointed out, still gesturing for the drugs.
"You said that John helped you sleep without these?" Molly asked. I didn't want to, but I nodded. And then, to my amazement, she handed me two syringes. "These should hold you over until he returns. If he doesn't, we have to send you to rehab, but if he does, we're flushing all of these little needles down the toilet." Molly insisted. I shoved the syringes in my pocket, afraid that they'd try to take them from me again.
"Fair enough." I muttered.
"We're very disappointed in you Sherlock, for not telling us about this." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.
"Don't tell me you haven't used them before?" I asked Molly.
"No. I knew that if I did I'd only get worse." She pointed out.
"How do you sleep at night?" I was amazed that she was able to.
"With a lot of tea and self-respect." She snapped. I frowned at her, obviously she wasn't thinking much of me at the moment, but what did I care, I got what I wanted. But rehab, oh that sounds miserable. Good thing I'd never go there. If John doesn't make it out, I know the last place I was going was rehab and the first place was to go visit the man upstairs. I sulked, leaning my head on my knees and watching the TV. The Careers were suffering now, almost as much as the others without water. They were sluggish and irritable, I was kind of hoping a fight would break out between them, leaving many dead and less for John to have to deal with, but obviously that was too much to ask. But as long as they went without water, the better the chances that they would die.
"Breakfast then." Mrs. Hudson decided, walking over to the table, which was once again loaded with all types of food. I wandered over, not wanting to take my eyes off of the TV since John could show up any moment. It was weird, almost like he was a celebrity on an award show, a very deadly award show. I didn't eat anything more than some bacon since I had a full meal last night. Molly looked mad at me, and it was no mystery why. She didn't approve of the drugs, but it's really not her area to complain about.
"Why don't you eat a bit more than that?" Mrs. Hudson suggested.
"I'm not hungry." I pointed out. Mrs. Hudson sighed, but gave up there. Molly didn't say anything, which was a bit of a miracle if you ask me. She just glared at me, but as long as she kept her mouth shut I wasn't complaining. I didn't know how they expected me to get through with only two syringes. At the moment on the TV the Careers were hunting down some poor tribute, a girl, but she was running for her life so I couldn't quite tell who it was. When she went down with an arrow I tried to think of who all was left. There couldn't be too many others; in fact the only non-Careers I remember are John and the girl on top of the volcano. I knew that once the numbers go down the gamemakers will use the lava to get the remaining tributes and entertain the audience. I hoped John could figure that out too, and get prepared. If the volcano does explode then that would take out the girl on top, but what about the Careers? Would he have to fight all of them or trick them, like I did? I excused myself from breakfast and sulked off to my room, not in the mood to go talking to people today. Maybe tonight I'd go out, but for now if I get turned down one more time I'm afraid I'll rip someone's head off. I locked the door, but it didn't give me enough security since Molly had said she could pick a lock. I guess I really underestimated her motherly side, breaking and entering just to make sure I wasn't doing anything I shouldn't. I sighed; looking at the bed where I was sure John had been last night. It made no sense, usually my hallucinations weren't solid, maybe it was just a dream, or because I had two shots instead of one. I sat against the headboard and got my sketch book out, observing my last drawings. John with the victor's crown and John killing off the last Careers, my dreams on paper apparently. I flipped to an empty page and started doodling with the charcoal pencil, not quite sure what I was drawing, but trusting my thoughts to map it out. When I was done I stared at it, this time it was John on a rock in the arena, above flowing lave while there were bodies sinking into the fires. That would be nice, yes. There was a knock on the door and I just sighed. When would they start to understand that I really didn't like to talk to them?