Hello lovelies! How I have missed you! Once again, I am sorry for the delay. I have been reading more fanfiction than I have been writing it :/ but I never gave up on this story! Not at all! I have too many plans for it! XD I want to thank you guys so much for reviewing/favoriting/following and reading this story! I would have given this up long again without you guys! I appreciate it more than you know! :D I hope this is long enough and enjoyable enough! Feel free to tell me everything I do wrong with this! XD But thank you for all the compliments! It makes me feel so good inside! ^_^

Forgive me, this chapter doesn't have too much Molly and Sherlock interaction, but I hope its still good! There should be lots more in the next chapter! :) Anyway, I love you guys so much! Thanks again! :) Have some big, creepy, imaginary hugs from me! ;)

Molly jumped from the platform, running for the cornucopia, hoping to get ahold of a weapon. She didn't plan on killing anybody. Not if she didn't have to. But she would defend herself.

She didn't get very far before she suddenly found that she couldn't run and she slammed face first into the ground. Everything had gotten very muddy, probably from all of the water. It looked like most of the place would be flooded around the cornucopia within the next few hours.

Great, Molly thought. This didn't start out like I'd hoped.

Molly pushed herself to her feet and immediately started looking for Sherlock. Sherlock, with James a few feet to his left, were hiking carefully through the mud while most of the other Tributes were having the same problem as Molly; getting stuck and falling every step they took. Maybe taking it slow was better. Sherlock and James seemed to know what they were doing.

Molly started to follow their example, moving slowly but surely, closer and closer to the cornucopia. Molly spotted a spear in the mouth of the cornucopia and she dared herself to go a little bit faster. Bad idea. She seemed to just be getting herself more stuck.

Sherlock noticed and she could swear she saw him roll his eyes, but he tried to maneuver himself towards her to help her out.

He got to her quickly, his long strides giving him speed and grabbed her arm. She smiled up nervously at him as they trudged through the mud.

"Pick up your feet, Molly," Sherlock commanded. She was hopping after him, trying to keep up, even with him holding on to her. He was going slow, but he took long strides, causing Molly to trip a lot trying to stay beside him.

Sherlock sighed, frustrated, and let go of her arm, going ahead of her.

"Sherlock!" Molly yelled, still tripping, trying to keep up with him. She frowned. He was abandoning her already. "Sherlock, wait!"

She was only half-way to the platform that the cornucopia sat on when Sherlock climbed up and ran into the cornucopia ahead of James. They both took the weapons they needed, and Molly saw Sherlock come towards her, the silver spear in his hand. He didn't step into the mud, he just positioned the spear in his hand, about to throw it... in her direction.

Molly paused, a sudden jolt of fear and betrayal squeezed her chest, and she saw Sherlock roll his eyes.

"No, Molly," He shouted, peeking at his side when he saw movement from another Tribute before turning back to her. "Catch!"

He threw the spear and it landed in the mud right beside her. She understood, and mentally slapped herself for even believing Sherlock would do such a thing right away.

She trudged through the mud as fast as possible, but was sad to find out she would be one of the last Tributes to reach the cornucopia. She forced herself not to worry too much, though. At least she had a weapon. As she neared the platform, James stepped in front of her and pulled her out. She had sunk into the mud so much that it reached just below her knees, and that was the reason she didn't mind him touching her. It would be hard to get out by herself. Plus, if she shrugged away from him, that could mean the trust between them would waver that much more. At least, that's what Molly feared.

She smiled up at James in thanks, and he smiled back sweetly before running off. Molly ran to Sherlock's side. He was helping Irene out of the mud and Molly went wide eyed when she saw them smile at each other. Her stomach clenched and she turned away quickly, distracting herself with the smooth exterior of the spear.

She had to believe that him smiling at her was for the sake of the alliance and not for any other reason. It wasn't hard to convince herself of the fact. It was Sherlock, after all. He didn't just smile at someone for no reason. He didn't do anything without a reason.

Molly went into the entrance of the cornucopia, thankfully not seeing any dead bodies, and picked up the first backpack she laid her eyes on. She sat down on the ground, just outside the cornucopia, and opened it. Inside was a water bottle, a fifteen foot long bungee-cord, a washcloth and some paperclips.

"Well, these could be pretty useful," Molly said to herself.

"Molly," Molly jumped at the sound of Sherlock's voice. He was standing in front of her. He looked annoyed at her reaction. "Focus, Molly. Follow Irene. You two will be going to find clean water. Hurry."

Molly nodded, and turned to see Irene, as confidant as ever, standing on the edge of the platform, waiting for her. Molly stood up as Sherlock threw a backpack in Irene's direction. She caught it easily.

Man, what can't she do?

"Oh, and Molly," Sherlock said as she walked away. She stopped to look at him. "Don't do anything stupid." Then he turned and walked the opposite way.

Molly frowned. She was sure he meant well, at least, as well as Sherlock could be, but she couldn't help thinking that he was saying it because he still viewed her as weak, despite what they had talked about on the small roof.

Molly stood next to Irene awkwardly, at least on her part. Irene was not bothered in the slightest.

"Are you ready to go, dear?" Irene asked, her voice smooth. Molly immediately became annoyed, but tried her best to seem normal, so she smiled.

"Yeah," Molly replied simply. Irene turned and walked along the edge of the platform. Molly followed in her footsteps.

By now, all the other tributes were out of site. Some had ran for the caves. Others were climbing the vines in a direction Molly couldn't see them from. Others, of course, were dead in the mud or on the platform. Molly and Irene had to step over a couple of them.

Molly didn't dare look at their faces longer than a second, just to make sure none of them were John or Greg or Mary. Thankfully, none of them were. Now Molly just had to hope that none of them were the corpses in the mud.

Once on the other side of the cornucopia, Molly and Irene stepped into the mud and made their way towards the rocks, aiming between two of the largest waterfalls. They trudged slowly through the mud, like they had learned. Molly didn't like being back in the mud, but she found it just a little easier as the mud became just a bit more watery. She realized with a bit of surprise that it probably should have been a bit harder, but it wasn't and as the minutes passed by, the mud seemed to be disappearing entirely.

Irene and Molly finally reached the rocks and they climbed out much easier this time. As soon as Molly was on the rocks, and Irene started walking again, they came to a halt, jumping with the noise that seemed to come from every direction. The same blast repeated seven more times and they stayed where they stood for a few seconds longer.

"Eight," Molly said sadly.

"They were counting the Tribute who committed suicide, too." Irene added, seaming unfazed. She looked away from the sky, Molly noticing that she glanced towards the cornucopia, and then started walking back towards the cliffs.

Molly also glanced back at the cornucopia before following. She saw the figures of Sherlock and James, studying the corpses before throwing them into the thinning mud with the others. Molly frowned, wishing she was with Sherlock instead of Irene, and hoping he didn't get himself into trouble.

"There's one more near the entrance," James said. "The girl from District Three."

Sherlock nodded, glancing up at the retreating figures of Molly and Irene, looking very small from the distance and the boulders against the cliff side, before following James to the front of the cornucopia.

The girl from District Three was laying on her back, flies already swirling above her pale face. Her long red hair was disheveled and parts of her hair had been tugged out of her braid.

Sherlock felt nothing as he studied her. He probably should have felt something for the girl. He had killed her, after all. If anyone asked why, he would tell them it was just self defense, but that couldn't be farther from the truth.

"What do you see?" James asked, seeming very curious.

The last few Tributes Sherlock had studied was out of fun. Either James or himself had killed the few others that were now in the mud, so there wasn't much to study.

James, however, had no knowledge of Sherlock killing this girl from District Three. He was on the other side of the cornucopia at the time, watching other Tributes retreat, and murdering an unlucky kid that crossed his path. Sherlock's plan all along.

"Obviously the person who killed her didn't train very well," Sherlock lied easily, pointing over to the stab wounds. "They used a small knife," Which was now hidden in the deep mud, which was now steadily becoming water. "and stabbed her multiple times to get the desired effect. The first time they stabbed her, they realized it wasn't a kill shot and went berserk, stabbing her until she ceased to make any sounds or movements and then quickly ran off, but they didn't get far."

James looked at him with a questioning expression before following the direction Sherlock pointed at, seeing a body in the thin mud, the face staring right back at them. The girl from District 9. Sherlock had gotten rid of her almost immediately after the red headed girl.

"Brilliant," James said, but not to Sherlock's deductions. "So, we already got our revenge." James stood up and clapped a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "Well done, buddy."

Sherlock smirked, and ignored him. He just had to act as James's pet a little longer so everything would go smoothly.

It will all be over soon. Sherlock thought as he pushed the body of the red headed Tribute into the mud.

Molly and Irene walked into the mouth of a cave, keeping their hands on the cave wall and moving carefully for the lack of any source of light. Well, Irene had matches in her backpack (she checked before they walked into the cave), but they decided not waste them. They wouldn't stay lit for very long and they would be gone very quickly.

Molly constantly looked behind her, watching as they got farther and making sure no one had followed them, and the small amount of light was comforting.

"Wait," Irene whispered, stopping, causing Molly to nearly bump into her. She didn't seem to notice. "Do you hear that?"

Molly listened, turning her head in all directions to try and hear it better. "I might. What is it?"

"I'm not surprised you can't," Irene said, sounding almost smug. Molly glared at the back of her head, trying to burn off her perfect hair with her eyes. "The explosion must have deafened you somewhat. I'm surprised you could hear anything over the roar of the falls."

Irene started moving again but Molly stayed where she was for a moment, realizing that she was right. The ringing in her ears was suddenly more noticeable now.

"So, what do you hear?" Molly asked, trying to not sound impatient.

"Water. Not the water from the falls. Its softer. I think we chose the right cave."

"Obviously I can hear the water from the falls," Molly muttered, not really meaning to say it out loud. She paused for a second, but Irene just ignored her, or maybe she didn't hear her. She really hoped it was the latter.

They walked deeper into the pit of despair, as Molly liked to call it. The mouth of promised light and happiness now far behind them. If she put her hand up, she could cover the entrance from her sight.

And now they were going downhill, which made the entrance disappear almost entirely from view. But before it could, Irene stopped suddenly, jumping back a couple of inches, right into Molly, a yelp of surprise tore out of her.

"Sorry dear," Irene said, not sounding very sorry. Now very calm. "I found some water."

"What?" Molly exclaimed, sighing in relief. "Where is it?"

Irene felt for Molly's wrist and ran it along the wall until her hand came across the small trail of water that ran down the wall.

"That's not very much water," Molly said, disappointed.

"No, but this is." Irene said, pushing Molly forward. Molly heard (surprisingly) the splash before she felt something wet sprinkle her face.

Molly giggled happily. "Water!"

"Better report this to the boys," Irene said, walking away. "Stay here. I should be back soon."

Molly was going to follow her anyway, but she decided to do as she was told, for now. She sat down beside the water, now able to hear it better.

It sounded like a smaller version of the waterfalls, but it was a river rushing up against the walls of the cave tunnels instead of crashing with a big lake. And maybe, somewhere down stream, it did.

Even after a few minutes, Molly could still hear the echo's of Irene's footsteps, and she started to wonder just how bad her hearing was. The ringing in her ears was stronger in the right ear than the left. That made sense. The now blown-to-bits Tribute had been directly to her right. Even though she had covered her ears, it obviously didn't do much.

Molly thought about taking her water bottle out from her backpack and taking a drink of the cool cave water, but decided against it when Sherlock's words rang loud and clear in her head, don't do anything stupid.

Would it really be a stupid choice? She asked herself. Maybe not, but she decided to wait for everyone to come back anyway.

For now, she was going to form a back-up plan for herself, just in case anything went wrong. She was sure Sherlock had thought one up for himself by now. She had to take advantage of the time she was left alone. It was too big of a risk to just doddle around, especially in the Arena.

When Irene finally exited the cave, she saw three figures trudging through the mud towards her. She started towards them when someone grabbed her arm. She whirled around to kick them in the leg. They immediately let go of her and backed up, nursing their bruised thigh.

Irene turned around and looked at the boy. She recognized him and noticed he didn't have any supplies on him. He stood up straight. If he still felt pain, he didn't show it now.

"What do you want?" Irene asked, ready to kill him if he tried anything.

"I have something for James," The boy said, digging in his pants pocket. When he pulled his hand back out, he left his fingers curled around the object that was hidden in his palm. He held it out to her, but still didn't remove his fingers. "It goes to James, and James only. Sherlock Holmes must not find out about it. Do you understand?" He said sternly. Even Irene trembled at the sincerity of his tone.

"Yes," She said simply, approaching him slowly, but confidently. "I'll make sure he gets it." She assured, when his fingers didn't loosen their hold.

He still seemed a bit reluctant, but James had to get it somehow. He placed the small tube in her hand and turned to leave.

"What is this? Chap stick?" Irene asked, incredulously.

The boy stopped and turned half-way to glare at her.

"Make sure James-"

"Gets it. Yes. But-"

"Just give it to him." He said finally, seeming to disappear into the mountain. Irene didn't have time to be curious, however. The boys were already pulling themselves out of the mud.

Irene put the tube in her bra. Sherlock wouldn't notice it there. Even if he suspected, it was still the perfect place.

She jogged over to the boys, careful of all the rocks that threatened to trip her.

"Where's Molly?" Sherlock asked as Irene approached. James was at Sherlock's side and Sebastian was at James's side.

"In the cave. We found water."

Sherlock nodded. "Good. Who was that?"

Irene smirked. "You know all the Tributes. You know exactly who it was."

Sherlock didn't answer and instead walked passed her back to the cave. The rest followed behind him and Irene discreetly pulled the tube out of her bra and into James' hand.

"Present from Charles," Irene whispered, knowing Sherlock wouldn't hear through the roar of the waterfall nearest them.

James smirked, staring at Sherlock's back.

"Sebastian," Sherlock shouted. "You still got the tarp?"

"Of course I do, Holmes. Do you take me for a fool?"

No answer.

ONE MORE THING! (Or, technically two? Or three?)

I have noooo idea if they would still have chap stick and bra's in their time, but I also think why wouldn't they? Both are useful things! And I really don't want to come up with some new invention as a substitute for those things XD So bear with me! I know its wasn't too long, but then again, none of these are really long. Average sized, I'd say. Anyway, I will once again try to get the next one up soon!

Thanks again, loves! :)