I woke up naturally, there were no nightmares, no screaming, my covers were still pulled over myself and all was well. I looked around, the curtains weren't closed but the outside world was black, it was night time. What I could see were shapes in the darkness, flying past in blurs. So I was on the train then. Someone had brought me here, someone had carried me apparently. I got up, still in my dress clothes but I smelled like alcohol. It was no mystery why, I had practically laid in it for a while. All of the memories of before came flooding back in a stomach twisting wave. I had kicked John in the stomach, obviously the boy from my games wasn't here, he was dead, somewhere in the ground, not in the Twelfth floor of the Tribute Center. I wandered out the door and into the living room compartment. It was no surprise to see the light on, I immediately felt really bad about all of this. I hoped they understood it wasn't me in there, it was hallucinations, anger, my crazy brain had been on autopilot. Molly and Mrs. Hudson were both sipping large mugs of something and John had an icepack on his bare chest, laying on the couch and staring at the ceiling. Oh god, no, I hurt him, oh my god.

"Are you okay?!" I asked, rushing to his side. He jumped, I saw fear flash across his face and I felt my heart slow down. He shouldn't be scared of me, oh god what have I done?

"I'm fine, just a little ache. Is that really you?" he asked in a forced voice.

"Yes, it's me, are you sure, what did I do?" I asked, putting my hand on the side of his face and pushing his bangs back from his face.

"I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed.

"He'll be fine, don't worry." Molly assured, but her tone was definitely ticked off. I've got a good guess why. I turned from him, looking at the two angry women sitting on the couch. Even though I knew them to be good hearted, coco drinking therapists they looked downright murderous.

"This is what drugs do to you Sherlock, you hurt the ones you love most." Molly pointed out with sigh. There was a big 'I told you so' coming, I could sense it.

"I, I lost control, I don't know what got over me." I admitted, taking a deep breath.

"We know that definitely wasn't you, but still you scared us half to death." Mrs. Hudson pointed out.

"I don't know what happened, one second I was fine, but that photographer pushed me off the edge, too much emotion I guess." I sighed.

"Sherlock we're viral by the way, over ten million reposts in the last couple of hours." John said with a laugh. He sounded hoarse, as if I had kicked the words out of him.

"Are you sure you're not mad about that?" I asked with worry.

"I really don't care." He shrugged. I nodded, if he didn't care then I didn't.

"Don't change the topic Sherlock." Molly snapped. I looked back at her with annoyance. "If this happens again we need to send you to rehab, and I know you don't want that."

"No, please, don't make me, they have no idea what I'm going through." I begged.

"We did a little research and found one specifically for victors who are traumatized by the games, it's in the Capital and if we need to send you there we will." Molly pointed out.

"Please no, I can't go to rehab." I pleaded.

"We need to flush all drugs and alcohol you own and get some sort of panic room. It'll be hard, but I know you can do it." Mrs. Hudson added. Oh gosh, I didn't like the sound of that.

"So I get a strait jacket and a padded cell, you'll just leave me there to suffer?" I asked, offended.

"Pretty much ya." Molly agreed.

"That's human abuse." I pointed out.

"More like animal abuse." John laughed from behind me, making me crack a smile despite all of this. It was too perfect to hear him joking again, right in front of me, alive.

"Well who knows, maybe the emotion that tips you off will be happiness and you just can't stop laughing and singing, or sadness where you're a sobbing wreck, we don't know." Molly pointed out.

 "That's not how it works, although that seems a lot better than what I just went through." I admitted. Anything is better than seeing him again, that poor tribute who I had to kill, his haunting laugh and stare.

"What did you see anyway?" Molly asked. I sighed, that was way too deep than I'd ever tell her.

"Just flashbacks from the arena." I shrugged, as if it was just another day. Technically it was another day, but just a lot worse. Molly backed off immediately, knowing this wasn't her area to pry at.

"You'll be okay Sherlock; I know you'll be fine." John assured, and I couldn't help smiling at him. His word was the only one I'd like to believe. I looked at the clock on the wall, it was two thirty in the morning, they'd been up this whole time apparently.

"Didn't you guys get to sleep?"I asked.

"Couldn't." Molly shrugged.

"Sorry for ruining the entire night." I muttered, thinking I should probably get that overwith. After all that panicing somehow I had actually managed to get the drug, me agasint the three of them, it was a shocking what you can do when drugs lie at the other side of the room. I felt really bad for John, I didn't know what was wrong but it sounded like something with his windpipe or something. he didn't deserve that, right after the games he should be having the night of his life and not sitting on the couch with ice on his chest.

"Where's the crown?" I asked, noticing it's absence.

"Somewhere in my bedroom I think." He shrugged. I nodded with a sigh. Tonight was supposed to be perfect, we were going to exchange stories, hold hands, maybe I'd even get a kiss or two and guess were that ended up. Stupid drugs, stupid mind, stupid photographers. I sat in the closest armchair to John, who was now rearranging the ice on his chest with difficulty.

"What happened exactly?" I asked.

"Well, he had you pinned down and you kicked him." Mrs. Hudson said obviously.

"No, I mean to him, what was the damage?" I corrected.

"A big bruise, nothing major Sherlock, we're just taking precautions." John assured with a smile. I nodded but didn't want him to be hurt, after all I've been through he really doesn't need that.

"So we're over ten million then?" I asked with a small smile. Molly picked up her phone, checking something.

"Now very close to eleven." She sighed. I held out my hand for her to give me the phone, she wasn't all that keen on the idea but gave it to me anyway. I looked at the picture they've been scowling at for a while and bit my tongue to prevent talking. It was John and I, clearly, he's got the crown and everything, and my hands were around his waist, pulling him closer and his hands were pulling my head down to him, our lips were locked very patiently. I sighed, handing the phone back over.

"Well then, that's a bit unfortunate." I decided. The three of them looked at me with mild annoyance.

"So you don't have the drug and it's this big scandal and now it's just a bit unfortunate?" John asked.

"Well then I knew if I wanted to I could probably get it back." I pointed out.

"Obviously not." Molly muttered.

"What can I say, I'm irresistible." I sighed with a fake obnoxious smile.

"Excuse you, but I believe...." John started.

"John just shut up please and thank you." I interrupted. Molly and Mrs. Hudson didn't need to know about what happened, they know the end result but they didn't need the details. John stopped talking, thankfully, but I could tell he was blushing almost as much as I was.

"So, should we all try to get some sleep now?" Molly suggested. I didn't think I'd sleep, but I just nodded, they needed sleep even if I didn't. John nodded and sat up with a groan, the ice pack falling onto his lap.

"Sounds good." He agreed. Mrs. Hudson nodded in agreement, so the two of them said good night and retreated to their rooms, threw the compartment and to who knows were.

"Do you need help?" I asked nervously.

"Don't worry about me Sherlock, I'll be fine." He assured, getting to his feet and stretching. As they said there was a big bruise in the middle of his chest.

"I'm really sorry." I said once again.

"It's okay Sherlock!" he insisted, walking just fine out of the compartment without waiting. Wait, is he going to his own room? I didn't want to have to sleep alone again, not when he was here. I walked swiftly to catch up to him, now in the dining car.

"So..." I said hopefully, maybe he'd get the hint.

"So what?" he asked. I sighed, idiot. My room was the next compartment, maybe he'd just stay with me?

"Well, good night, I guess." I muttered, looking at him expectantly. He seemed to get it now.

"Oh, fine, I'll be there." He said with a bit of a laugh. I smiled at him thankfully; feeling like this was a hugging time but instead just slipped into my room and let him walk on. I changed into my pajamas and collapsed under the covers, not tired at all but very excited to finally talk to John freely. I wanted to know how he had thought up that master plan and all that, it was truly genius, that coming from me. I turned off the light and waited, watching the door with one of my eyes. Finally it opened, and John's silhouette entered in the thin crack of light. I knew there was a leather chair, just like I had slept on, but he came over and slid under the covers with me, not seeming to be scared of me like he should be. He rested his head on the pillow next to me and held my hand, smiling peacefully at me as if I didn't attack him before.

"You're not scared of me?" I asked in a small voice.

"No of course not, that wasn't you, that was the drugs." John pointed out.

"Well, not yet the drugs, but yes, that wasn't me." I agreed.

"Why were you so desperate, what did you see?" he asked curiously. I sighed, but it was no secret now that he was a victor. He'd have the dreams too; I'd expect he'd start seeing the boy from One more often now.

"The boy that I killed in the arena when I was tribute. Never lets me forget him apparently." I sighed.

"So that's why you kicked me?" he asked.

"No, you were just so ugly that I thought huh, mine as well kick him." I said with a laugh, and got a bit of a smile from him. "Actually yes, he was back, with the knife in his head again." I agreed.

"I'll get those too, I know I will." He sighed.

"I can't pretend that you won't." I agreed.

"How can you deal with them, other than drugs I mean?" he asked curiously.

"Oh I have no idea; I'm one for the peaceful solution of things." I sighed. "Ask Molly I guess." John smiled at me and I kind of wished he'd cuddle up to me like before the games. It was strangely therapeutic. But I shouldn't be complaining, the very fact that he was here with me, holding my hand was a miracle from every God anyone had ever believed in. He survived the games and my drug raid and still wanted to be close to me.

"I'm so happy your back." I muttered, the honest truth, maybe falling short actually.

"I am too." he said with a laugh. "I knew I had to live, I knew I had to do something because I knew you needed me as much as I needed you."

"You're right; I had already decided that if you died I'd follow you." I admitted. Suddenly his smile faded, looking into my eyes to see if I was being serious or not. But I was dead serious, and I think he could see that.

"No, Sherlock, don't you dare." He muttered, scooting closer to me so that our noses almost touched.

"I'm not quite sure either of us could imagine the pain I'd go through. You were the first person that I've ever told anything to, you know me better than my own parents. I couldn't lose you too."

"Well then it's a good thing I got back, now we can be together forever." He said with a smile.

"I hope so." I agreed. There was a sort of awkward pause, I could only imagine the beautiful life I could live with him at my side forever.

"I'm guessing you've never had one of these sappy love moments before right?" John asked. Suddenly my tongue seemed to twist as I tried to answer him. This was what he considered a sappy love moment? What do those end with?

"No." I said forcefully, hoping to see his face closer to mine every time I blinked, which was very rapidly. That's what I do when I'm surprised; I blink like I have sand in my eyes or something.

"Well good, neither have I." he admitted with a laugh.

"What's your point?" I asked.

"No idea, just I have no idea what to do." He admitted.

"How about you go to sleep? I'd say we're both in need of some." I suggested.

"Well whose fault is that?" he asked with a little laugh, but kissed me on the tip of my nose and cuddled even closer, almost like before. It seemed like an electric shock was pushing through me now, radiating from my nose where his lips had touched it. I was tempted to tell him that he had missed, but I didn't know how that would go over, so I just stayed quiet, felling his body leaning ever so slightly against mine and his chest rising and falling softly. I could only imagine he was falling asleep or close to it, so I just tried to close my eyes and follow suit. Something about having him so close made that task simpler than I could ever imagine in my wildest dreams, but for some reason my wildest dreams seemed to have been left back in the Tribute Center.