Author's Note: Sorry if this chapter is long and boring! This was a beast to write! And I also apologize for how long it took me to update! I got wrapped up in work and life in general and didn't get ample time to write! Please bear with me, and I hope you keep reading anyway.
As for the contest, I added a little something in here. Something special from my other story, John's Lullaby. I mentioned it twice, but discreetly. If you find it and be the first to comment with the correct answer, you will win a quick one shot of your choice written by me! Anyway, good luck, and enjoy reading!
Before he could really think about what was happening, John was being pushed outside into utter chaos. There were people all around him, screaming questions that the Capital was just dying to get the answers to, crying for him to be safe and to come back, calling out last minute advice. Everyone was shouting at once in an overwhelming buzz of noise that left John completely disoriented. But then he felt someone grab his hand, and there was Sarah. She looked just as dazed and shocked as he did, but she was there. The touch was comforting and it kept him grounded until finally silence greeted them. They were in the train.
"Who knew we were so popular?" Sarah murmured, trying but failing to make a joke. John shot her a wry grin and shook his head.
"I guess that's the thing. No one is truly popular until they are reaped into the Games." he replied back after a moment, taking in his surroundings. He had never seen so much expensive looking decor in once place before. Everywhere he looked screamed wealth and ostentatiousness. He couldn't help but think back to the little shack he called home and feel slightly ashamed, however he quickly banished the feeling. He would be proud of his home, of District Twelve. All the expensive and busy decor really were there to make the tributes feel this way, to show them that the Capital and President Snow would always be in power, that they were nothing in comparison. John would have none of it.
"Ah, I see you two are admiring the lavishness of the decor here. Let me be the first to tell you that there is plenty more where this came from!" the woman John instantly recognized from the Reaping walked over to them, smiling widely.
"I have never seen anything like it." Sarah replied politely, looking all around her with wide eyes.
"It really is...something else." John commented, not quite sure how else to word what he was feeling and still seem polite.
"Well, just you wait till you get to the Capital! It is beyond beautiful. I'll let you two explore for a bit. But remember to come to dinner now, you have to meet your mentor! My name is Gem, if you have any questions or concerns don't hesitate to come find me!" the woman named Gem chirped as she waltzed away. John couldn't help but chuckle as he watched her leave.
"What's so funny?" Sarah asked, rasing her eyebrow at her friend when Gem was out of earshot.
"Nothing...it's just Gem is such a fitting name for her, don't you think?"
"With her emerald skin, turquoise wig, and violet eyes she certainly looks like some gemstones threw up all over her." Sarah agreed with a giggle. John soon joined in, and they found they couldn't stop even if they wanted to. They laughed until tears fell from their eyes and their sides ached to an unbearable degree. With everything going wrong, it was nice just to ignore it for at least a moment and just laugh, even if it was at nothing really funny at all. John found himself feeling much better, the tiniest bit of hope returning. He wondered as he watched Sarah if she felt the same. After catching their breaths they spent hours exploring the train, staring at all the costly furniture and trying to figure out how the many strange gadgets that were thrown about worked. John gripped at the windowsill when he saw just how fast they were travelling when he made the mistake of looking out the window. It was quite unnerving, to say the least, especially since he couldn't feel a thing. The ride was so smooth, if he were asked he would say they weren't moving at all. He did his best to quench the queasyness in his stomach.
"It's amazing, isn't it? How different everything looks outside of District Twelve." Sarah murmured, lost in her own thoughts. John couldn't help but agree with her. The forests and woodland landscape that was prominant in District Twelve were breaking up, beginning to turn into fields and countryside.
"Quite extraordinary." he replied, not entirely sure if his friend even heard him. He wasn't sure how long they sat there like that, watching the world go by, but they didn't move until Gem appeared and ushered them to their rooms to get dressed properly. Apparently dirty, threadbare, ripped clothing were not appropriate for the occasion of being sent to their deaths. John honestly could not see the point of it all.
Begrudgingly he opened his dresser and picked out the most normal looking articles of clothing he could find, which ended up being a beige jumper and some comfortable looking jeans. He made his way to the shower, where he spent what seemed like hours just standing under the hot water as he marveled at it. The closest thing he had ever been to this was boiling semi-clean water and pouring it in a tin tub, and that was usually not very often. Water was a precious thing, and the only way to get it was to either collect rain water or sneak out into the forests and get some from the rivers. Not many people dared to try the later option. The Peacekeepers did terrible things to people who got caught in the act. It never deterred John Watson, not one bit.
He finally made it to the dining area to realize he was the last person to arrive. Gem and Sarah sat next to one another, while an unkempt man with long, slightly graying blond hair sat alone on the opposite side. They all stared at him as he walked over, and he shot them a sheepish look.
"Sorry I'm a bit late." he apologized out of habbit. If anything, he had been taught manners back home at least.
"Not to worry, dear. I understand how overwhelming all this must be for you. Please, do have a seat and enjoy dinner! Oh, and this is your mentor." Gem announced grandly, gesturing towards the lone man who seemed very intent on his drink. When John greeted him, the man did not reply. He shot Sarah a look, and the girl shrugged. Apparently he had treated her the same way. Taking a seat that was thankfully next to his friend, John allowed himself to take in all the food that littered the table. There were all kinds of different meats, many John couldn't even name. There were also breads, fruits, vegetables, and plenty of foods that were foreign to him. Everything was served in the most exhuberant way possible. He found himself scarfing down the food before he could even process what it was he was eating. It all tasted so good! So rich and filling! He had never eaten like this before in his life. With a quick glance, he noticed that Sarah was doing the same.
After a time of complete silence, the man with graying blonde hair finally spoke up, his voice strong and demanding their undivided attention.
"What can you two do?" he demanded, catching the two tributes off guard.
"What do you mean?" Sarah asked first, noticing John's mouth full of food at the moment.
"I mean what talents do you have? What can you do that could possibly keep you alive in the arena?" their mentor elaborated grudgingly. John began to dislike the man. His job was supposed to be to keep them alive for as long as possible. He wasn't doing anyone any good with his attitude.
"We were healers, back in District Twelve. Curing people who were sick, tending to injuries." John replied, forcing himself to remain kind. No point in sassing the man who was supposed to keep you alive.
"That will do, I guess. Anything else?" the older man asked gruffly, eyeing them both in a way that John felt meant he had no hope of them getting very far.
"John is strong. He once beat up a Peacekeeper. Plus he can use a gun." Sarah replied, making John choke on his drink mid-sip. What she said was ultimately true. He had beaten a Peackeeper once, a beast of a man who decided it would be a good idea to insult Harry when he found out she was a Lesbian. He was tall and thin, but strong enough to land a few good punches on John once he began to fight him. He had never liked the man very much; he was a shady character with eyes that shown too brightly, and a voice as cool and slippery as a snake. Ian was his name, if his memory served him properly. And he could use a gun, he often used one to shoot birds for food back home. Still, it sounded ridiculous being said aloud.
"You really beat up a Peackeeper?" Gem asked, cat like eyes wide with shock. John gave her a sheepish smile. He supposed not too many people attacked Peackeepers. They often stuck fear in practically everyone in his district.
"A gun's not going to help you much in the arena. They don't use them anymore." their mentor replied, voice void of any possible emotion.
"Well what about Sarah? She can-"
"John, it's alright. I don't have many talents that can help me. " Sarah interrupted, a sad smile that didn't reach her eyes spreading across her lips. A feeling of dismay coursed through John's body. She firmly believed she was going to die.
"Sure you do! You can..." he trailed off, brain struggling for something, anything he could use. She couldn't give up, not yet. As hard as he tried, he couldn't think of anything other than healing people. He only really saw her when they were working. He instantly regretted not hanging out with her more.
"It's fine, John. Really. The only thing I can do is help with injuries." she replied, voice soft.
"But that's something! That knowledge could mean the difference between life and death!" John insisted, refusing to back down on his argument. Sarah didn't reply, and silence crept back into the room until awkwardly broken by Gem.
"Well, the video should be starting soon. The one where they show all the tributes! We don't want to miss it! Shall we?" she asked, rising from her chair and gesturing for the others to do the same. John reluctantly followed suit, the last to stand and follow her out. He wasn't looking forward to this. He knew he needed to get to know his competition, but in all honesty he didn't really want to know. He didn't want to think about who could kill him and who might not. He grabbed on to Sarah's hand as the seal of the Captial appeared on the screen and the introduction played.
District One was played first, the crowd of people roudy as always with excitement for the Games. They were careers, so it wasn't uncommon, but it was quite sickening to watch just the same. The two tributes chosen (A girl named Sally Donovan and a boy who John could only seem to remember his last name, Anderson) were not overly intimidating. He surmised he could probably take them down if need be, but there was something about them that spelled trouble. Instant dislike filled his body. He wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating them.
District Two proved to be more of a problem. A girl by the name of Irene Adler waltzed onto the stage, flashing a charmingly suggestive smile and a wink to her audience. Every part of her screamed she had something up her sleeve, and John felt unease creep through him, cold hands tugging at his heart. If he thought she seemed bad, however, that isntantly proved wrong as the next tribute sauntered up to the stage, a boy by the name of James Moriarty. His eyes shone brightly, and a smile that sent shivers down John's body graced his lips. He would definitely have to watch out for those two.
District Three brought a girl named Kate, a pretty blonde who didn't seem opossing at first, but John guessed she had a fire in her belly, and a boy named Sam who was no older than twelve. He was shocked at first, but he didn't cry. He remained composed throughout the whole spectacle, and John commended him on his bravery, but didn't believe him to last very long.
District Four summoned a shifty looking girl named Clove, and to John's horror a very muscular...man? No, boy, named Sebastian Moran. His eyes shone, and John could see hatred, burning like fire behind his pupils. His whole body went cold at the sight. There was no doubt about it. This guy was a cold blooded killer. John felt that this tribute would stop at nothing until he killed each and every tribute unlucky enough to be in the arena.
Districts Five and Six passed by in a blur. John was too busy trying to breathe to pay proper attention. He could feel Sarah's hand tighten around his own sweaty palm. He would ask her about them later.
District Seven brought on a fiery red head named Millie, and a strong, capeable boy named Greg Lestrade. John watched as shock registered through his feautres and he made his way slowly towards the stage, as if in a dream. The camera shifted to show an elderly lady looking on, tears in her eyes. John instantly felt sorry for them, and he vowed then and there, quite unsure where this sudden burst of courage even came from, that he would do whatever he could to save as many of the tributes as possible. Perhaps they weren't quite as shady or intimidating in real life, just putting on a show for the Captial, hoping to live, just as he was.
District Eight reaped a petite, mousy girl named Molly Hooper. She seemed timid and shy as she took her place on the stage, and her eyes were wide with fear. John didn't hold out much hope for her surviving long either, and he pitited her. She seemed like a sweet girl, very pretty. His focus was suddenly shifted when the male tribute was called, something different happening than the others that instantly caught his attention. He watched intently as Sherlock Holmes make his way down to the place next to Molly. He could hear grumbles from the audience, no sympathetic sounds or pained cries like he had heard from many of the other tributes. Sherlock seemed to not to be very well liked, and instantly John could understand why. There was no expression at all on his face, just simple uncaring. He stared out at the audience as if they were a bunch of idiotic children that he couldn't waste his time on. Anger flared through him, as hot as fire. He was being sent to his possible death, and he didn't care? He just sat there, glaring at the world as if he was too good for it. Not showing a hint of surprise or pain or sympathy when he shook Molly's hand. He was void, face completely wiped clean of anything that resembled an emotion. John couldn't help but glare at the screen, not bothering to explain to the confused faces staring at him. He didn't know why he was so worked up about the situation. It wasn't his life he was throwing away by not caring if he lived or died. But just the same, he couldn't help but want to smack the tirbute and tell him just what an idiot he was.
From District Nine, a girl named Clara (if that didn't cause Harry to start drinking, John wasn't sure what would) and a boy by the name of Dimmock were reaped. Both seemed resigned to their fates, not entirely surprised by what happened. Disticts Ten and Eleven went by, John no longer paying attention. He was too focused on all of the people that would probably kill him once in the arena. There were a good many. Most of them, in fact, except that Sam kid and Molly. They didn't seem to be the type to kill.
Then, the horror to end all horrors began: the reaping of District Twelve. He was forced to watch Sarah as shock spread across her every feature as her name was called, forced to hear her family members out watching cry out in desperation. He was forced to watch his friend make her way to the stage, trembling and stricken. Then it was his turn. He closed his eyes and looked away, unable to take any more. But he could still hear his name being called, could still hear Harry's anguished scream nearly burst his eardrums. He heard a sort of a scuffle begin, probably a Peacekeeper making the mistake of trying to detain her while she was in distress. He hoped it was Ian, although he couldn't tell from his closed eyes and how the video quickly changed scenes to give the overall summary of all the tributes. As grandly as it began, it ended with the overused saying in the most annoyingly chipper voice imaginable: "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"
John finally opened his eyes as the screen went black. The silence in the room was almost overwhelming, but he could tell what they were all thinking. That they were both going to die. It was written all over their faces.
"Well, that's the end of that!" Gem declared, always the chipper one, it seemed. She jumped from her seat with a smile on her face. "Now, I am sure you are both tired. It has been a long day. Tomorrow we can discuss what we are going to do, and soon we will reach the Capital!"
Sarah and John retreated towards their respective bedrooms, right next door to each other. They didn't enter right away though, but stopped at their doors and just looked at each other. Sarah with frightened eyes brimming with tears, and John hadn't a clue as to how he looked, but he assumed he didn't look too much better off. He certainly didn't feel it.
"What do you think?" he asked aloud, although already knowing what she would say.
"I don't know. They all seemed so...strong and prepared for this. Especially that Moran guy from District Four. And that Moriarty from District Two really creeped me out. He has something up his sleeve, I know it."
"But that little boy from Three didn't seem so bad. He's a young one." John replied, trying to be optimistic but failing miserably.
"Don't underestimate him, John. People change in the arena, often for the worse. Someone can be shy and sweet, but change into a cold blooded murderer faster than you can blink." Sarah reprimanded, finding great interest in the floor. Her words sent pricks of ice to shoot up and down his spine. He took a deep breath and shook his head.
"Well that's not going to happen to me. I don't plan on murdering anyone. I plan to save as many as I can." he answered after a moment, voice a whisper. Sarah's eyes shot up to him in complete surprise.
"Are you telling me-"
"Yes, I think I am. I am going to go against the Captial on this. I am going to start a revolution." if he wasn't sure on this before, seeing all the faces of the good people that might die certainly helped him warm up to the idea. He was going to put an end to this, even if it put an end to him.
"And how on Earth are you going to do that? You can't just go against the Capital, John! Especially not by yourself! They will destroy you! Do you even have a plan?" Sarah hissed, horror spreading across her face.
"Not yet, not exactly. Harry told me that I had to make the people of the Capital care, actually and legitimately care about us. To make them realize we are just a bunch of teenagers, with hopes and fears and a future crushed into pieces because of these games. Make them realize we aren't just some random animals running around killing each other. I'll start with that." John explained, and he grabbed Sarah's hands in his. "I need your help for this, Sarah. I need your support."
She shook her head slowly, not taking her eyes off of John. He could tell she was waiting for him to take it all back, to admit it was a sick joke and wouldn't do that to her again. But it wasn't, and he wasn't going to take it back.
"They'll kill me, and you." she hissed, but she sounded unsure, desperate for any reason to back him off of this, and failing.
"It shouldn't matter. You already think you are going to die, so what's the difference? You can either die playing their stupid game, or die standing up for something you believe in, something good. It's your choice, but I've already made mine." He hated throwing all of this on her, now of all times. But they would reach the Capital soon, and the Games would start. He had to start planning now. "Goodnight, Sarah."
Without another word, he walked into his room and closed his door, leaving his friend staring after him with wide, shocked eyes.