A/N: I know it's been a long time since I've updated this. I'm so sorry oh my god. I have no good excuse.

Harry's fingers brushed John's as they joined the line to sign in. They looked at each other and John saw the fear in her eyes, masking his own.

"It won't be you." John told her, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid it's going to be you." Harry told him, chewing on her lip.

This surprised John a little. Almost all they ever did was fight. All Harry ever did was win the fights. "Me? Why are you afraid for me?"

Harry watched him. "If you're not here, who will I argue with every morning?"

John smiled weakly. "Everyone knows how much fun we have with that."

Harry forced a smile. John looked forward again, chewing on his own lip. Really, all that meant was "I'll miss you if you're reaped, because I know there's no chance you'll survive this."

"Hand, please." John let the peacekeeper take his hand and prick it, squeezing the blood onto the paper. "Next."

John stepped away and caught Harry's eye who was in the other line. "I'll find you when it's over." he promised her. Harry nodded. She didn't look too sure, but she nodded all the same.

"John!" Someone took his arm and pulled him into a roped off area full of boys of his age.

"Hey, Mike." John said to the boy. Mike Stamford was his best friend. His only real friend.

"How many times is your name in?" Mike asked seriously.

"15. You?"

"24." Mike chewed on his lip. John squeezed his friend's shoulder reassuringly.

"There are tons of people in District 12. I'm pretty sure that out of all of us the odds are in our favour." John said. Mike nodded.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang echoing through the town square. Everyone silenced instantly, looking up at the stage. Effie Trinket jumped backwards in a foolish way, uttering a soft "Oh!" When she realised the microphone was on. She took a step forwards again and put on a huge smile. "Welcome, welcome, to the 74th annual Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour." She beamed.

There was complete silence, except for the buzzing of the microphone and Effie's loud footsteps as she walked over to the first glass ball. "Ladies first." she grinned in an unnatural way. Her hand reached into the ball.

"Not Harry, not Harry, not Harry..." John thought.

Effie pulled out a strip of paper and unfolded it. She ran back over to the microphone. "Mary Morstan."

John's eyes were wide. Mary Morstan. John had liked Mary Morstan since he was in the fourth grade. Long blonde hair, dark green eyes. She always walked with a slight bounce in her steps. She was always so happy.

As she stepped out from the crowd, there was no bounce.

She walked slowly to the steps, looking grim. Everyone knew that Mary wouldn't last long. Mary knew that Mary wouldn't last long. She walked up the steps to the microphone. Effie had her introduce herself and asked her a few questions. John tuned everything out. He couldn't take this anymore. He let Effie and Mary's voices fade to a dull drone, watching a couple of ants run around his feet. And then some words caught his attention, pulling him back to the reaping.

"And now, for the gentlemen." Effie beamed and walked over to the glass ball on the opposite side of the stage. Mary looked at the ground. John could tell she was trying not to cry.

"It isn't me, it isn't me, it isn't me." John told himself. Effie's hand slipped into the glass ball and her long, pink fingernails pulled out a slip of paper. "It isn't me, it isn't me, it isn't me."

Effie scrambled back to the microphone again and unfolded the paper.

The little voice in John's head was practically shouting now. "It isn't me! iT ISN'T ME! it isn't me!"

"John Hamish Watson."

A full on wave of feelings crashed over John, and he felt immensely dizzy. He felt hundreds of eyes on him, and he suddenly realised exactly why Mary wasn't so bouncy.

Three pairs of eyes stood out, but he couldn't see two of them. The first was Mike. His eyes were wide and scared. Sorry, even.

The second was his mother. She was lost in the crowd, but John could feel her panic, and something very close to loss. She'd already been through this once when his father died, and now she'd have to go through it again. This time, though, it was on live television for the Capitol's entertainment.

The third was Harry. Fright, loss, terror. "I VOLUNTEER."

John's eyes snapped up at Harry's voice.

Effie beamed. "What was that? Who volunteers?"

Harry pushed out of the crowd. "Me. I volunteer." she said firmly, her eyes filling with tears. John tore from the crowd to see his sister. She looked so grown up, standing there with her back straight, her face showing hardly any emotion besides the tears that betrayed her.

"No!" John shouted.

Effie looked extremely flustered. "Well, isn't that sweet, dear, but I'm very sorry. We need a male and a female tribute. Unless there are any other volunteers..."

John knew there wouldn't be. He didn't hesitate to rush to the steps. As he passed his sister in the aisle, he let his fingers brush over hers for a moment. A signal that everything would be alright. Even though it was a total lie, he saw her relax slightly, the fright on her face appearing again. The whole square was silent as John walked to Effie on the stage.

"Hello there, John." Effie beamed in her sickeningly sweet way.

"He-hello." He muttered into the microphone. Effie beamed into the audience.

"Is there anything you'd like to tell us about yourself, dearheart?" she asked into the microphone, grinning to District 12.

John cleared his throat, trying to bring more life into his voice. He had to be strong. For Harry. He had to be strong. "I'm 18," he said, his voice surprisingly louder, "I live with my mum and my sister."

"And that was your sister, wasn't it?" Effie asked, her unnaturally high voice making John's head start to pound.

"Yes." John nodded.

"Very good." Effie beamed. There were a few moments of awkward silence before Effie cleared her throat once more. "Well, shake hands, you two."

John turned to face Mary. She was white as a sheet, her green eyes sticking out quite well. She took the first steps towards John and John mirrored her, reaching out his right hand as she reached out her left. They took each other's hands and shook firmly.

"Nice, nice. Very sweet." Effie tittered. She stood straight in front of the audience and smiled her dazzling smile once more. "Well then, happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in your favour."