We skidded to a stop outside the stylist's station, where there were more paparazzi than ever. This time they knew the tributes name's also, so instead of just calling look over here, they called for John, or for Irene. I stayed close by John, yet again, steering him away from the crazy fans. It seemed like yesterday I was walking in here for my interview outfit, still thinking the thing will not go as bad as evaluations. Well, I guess everyone got to see how wrong I was about that. We got inside the glass doors, and it was like a night and day change. The sound was cut off to soft music and peaceful chatting. I looked around, making sure Greg wasn't there. Unfortunately he was there, but he was talking to some other guy that I didn't recognize. We crept across to the washing place, the room where John and I stole the clothes back, and Mrs. Hudson opened the door, leading us into the room. The stylists were waiting for us with big smiles; they were some of the only ones who like it when the tributes come. Apparently it gives them someone to use their talents on or something like that.

"John, you go to that chair and Irene to the other one." Mrs. Hudson decided.

"We can keep our clothes on right?" John asked, very hopefully with a nervous glance to the three of us.

"Yes dear, just come on over." a stylist said from the other end of the room. Both John and I exhaled breaths of relief, the awkwardness levels would've soared through the roof and beyond. Sara and Anthea, the two stylists, came over and started talking to the three of us about the outfits. Apparently they would be going for another light show thing, since it was an apparent success. I didn't hear much, but I guess they would use sequins that look just like the fabric to reflect back the stage lights and stuff. I had to admit that was a clever idea, these people really do waste a lot of their time on the outfits. Since they already had the measurements, John and Irene had to sit and get their hair and makeup all done fancy and that took a good two hours of miserable boredom. Once again I was in the chair, except this time that stupid magazine was gone, so I was forced to just sit there. I was forcing myself to pretend that this was all for the parade, and John and I still had something of a week to bond. The truth was hurting me more than I even  thought it would, I didn't want John to die, I didn't want one single scratch to hurt him, I wanted to keep him with me in a blanket where no one could hurt him. But that was a fantasy; I knew that if John didn't show up to the games there would be worse consequences. They couldn't hurt him, but me, Molly, Mrs. Hudson; even his family would pay the price. I thought it might be worth it, god knows that I'd jump into those games instead of him just to save him from the horror in that arena. I knew that if I go back in there and win again that the psychological danger would be astronomical, I'd be having nightmare, hallucinations, paranoia, everything terrible under the sun. Finally when they were done in the hair and makeup, they stood on the podiums and apparently were unable to dress themselves. I politely looked away as they changed, and when I assumed they were don't I looked back. John looked breathtaking, standing on the podium with what appeared to be just a plain golden suit with a white shirt and black tie, but when he moved the gold reflected off the lights, giving him a more angelic type of look to him. Irene had a golden, flowing gown, also reflecting, but she didn't look nearly as good.

"How do I look?" John asked me with a goofy smile.

"Fantastic!" I said truthfully. John smiled modestly, but looked proud to be complemented like that.

"You know what; we should go get some coffee!" I joked as loud as I could, to attract the attention of either Molly or Mrs. Hudson.

"Don't you dare!" Molly hissed.

"I will strap you to that chair!" Mrs. Hudson added. It was a bit unfortunate that both had heard me.

"It was a joke! God." I pointed out; slouching a little bit in my chair, but John seemed to think the whole thing was funny. A little bit later, we were rushed off to the interview building, a special arena sort of thing made especially for tribute interviews. I thought the whole thing was a bit much, but I guess the Capital saw it as a good investment instead of giving money to the struggling districts. But, you know, who doesn't need a giant stadium? Sarcasm, again. The station's crowd made all the other ones look like two people, when we got off there were Peacekeepers keeping the crowd behind the yellow gates they put up. I really didn't see why Capital people loved the tributes, they literally had nothing special about them but they were just going to die soon.

"I feel famous." John laughed. His smile really warmed my heart, even in these conditions. The stadium was dark, but we got to go back stage, where all of the other tributes were talking to their mentors and escorts and stylists that had come along. Some were giving us looks, most jealous, but some were disgusted, as if our outfit choices were ugly or something. I thought our tributes looked the best, even without my biased opinion. John looked a little bit pale, hearing the crowd talking through the stadium even from here.

"Don't be nervous, you'll be fine." I assured. He muttered something about just being hungry, but I saw right through that. He forgot I was in his place a year ago, dreading going onto the stage and having to talk to Caesar, in front of the entire crowd, it was sickening.

"They'll love you, I guarantee it." I insisted.

"I'll mess up, somehow." he grumbled.

"Hey, that's what you thought with the evaluations, and you got out with an eight." I pointed out. The music blasted in the stands and I heard the sound of Caesar laughing, so that must mean it's starting. John gulped at the sound of the music, obviously terrified.

"John, come on, it's almost impossible to mess up as much as I did, and I ended up winning did I not?" I pointed out.

"If you call winning nightmares and paranoia, yes." He agreed. I couldn't disagree with that; I guess he could piece together things better than I thought.

"But I'm still alive." I pointed out. John nodded, not looking too sure about this. I looked around to make sure no one was watching us, they were all fussing over their own tributes, and Mrs. Hudson had wandered off somewhere to do escort stuff. I took one of his hands gently, holding it between both of mine and trying to look as positive as I could. His brown eyes looked beautiful with all of the golden makeup and clothes he had on, and it was difficult to not stare at them.

"You'll do amazing, in the interview and in the games, because you don't know what you have in you until you have to use it."

"I don't know what I have in me until some guy cuts me open." John corrected, and even though I was in serious deep talk mode I had to laugh.

"See, you totally ruined the moment!" I protested. John smiled up at me, I may have ruined that one, but it was a lot better when he was laughing over when he was frowning. The district one boy walked onto the stage to thunderous applause, everyone loved the first couple, but after a while, once you get to Twelve, everyone kind of loses interest in the same couple of questions. Caesar does his best to keep everything exciting, but I was sure I saw a lot of people leave when I was up there before. The tributes slowly dispersed one at a time, cheering, talking, laughing, more cheering; it was a sort of pattern. The line got smaller and smaller, but I walked up with him, trying to cheer him up when his mood was down, and when he was confident I gave him tips and told him how good he was going to be. When the Eleven girl left for the stage, we could see the stand and the chairs. Caesar's hair stuck out like a sore thumb, he looked ridiculous laughing with the stupid white smile. I could feel John shaking slightly as the girl got up, and he was called on.

"Do your best, you've got this!" I assured as he walked on stage. I ran to the viewing window, where all of the other mentors and escorts were sitting. I pushed through the crowd and watched him sit on the chair nervously, the crowd cheering a lot, but not nearly as much as they had been.

"Very nice to meet you John." Caesar said, shaking his hand. "And might I say, you look truly radiant today." The crowd laughed at the stupid pun, and John cracked a nervous smile.

"Well, uh, happy to be here, I guess." He muttered.

"So, you're what, fifteen?" Caesar asked.

"Sixteen." John corrected.

"Sixteen, sorry. How does it feel to have a mentor only two years older than yourself?" he asked. I felt the eyes of the other mentors on me, and I felt my face get a little hot.

"Well, Sherlock, he really understands everything I'm going through, he's more like my friend than my mentor, but I guess it's a bit odd that I saw him at school two years ago." John shrugged. I couldn't help smiling, he considered me his friend.

"Do you think you can start a Victor streak in District Twelve?" Caesar asked.

"Oh, god I hope so." John said with a nervous laugh. Apparently Caesar found it a lot funnier than John though, because he broke out laughing. I knew he just did that to get the crowd all excited, but it made John feel a little bit more confident I think. He was sitting up straight, like I told him to, so that was good news.

"How about back home, any family watching this?" Caesar asked.

"Ya, Mom, Dad, my sister Harriet." John waved out to the crowd, where I guess there was a camera, "Hi guys." He said with a nervous smile.

"Now, you said you consider Mr. Holmes your friend, how do you think he'll be when you're in the games, considering he's been through it just the previous year?"

"He'll probably be worried sick, but from what I can tell, he seems like a crier too." John laughed. This time Caesar didn't have to encourage the audience to laugh. I blushed a little bit; he just had to add that didn't he?

"Has he cried in your presence before?" Caesar asked with amusement.

"Not yet." John shrugged. Wrap it up John, that's enough about me.

"Well, I wish you best of luck out there in the games, everyone, John Watson!" Caesar said, standing up and holding up one of his hands. John smiled nervously at the crowd before shaking Caesar's hand one last time and then walking off the stage. I met him at the door, and he looked so relieved, which a smile on his face.

"Oh, so I'm a crier now?" I asked.

"Don't deny it." he laughed. "How'd I do?" he asked. The crowd was now cheering for Irene as she stepped onto the stage.

"You did great, but really, crier?" I asked again, trying to absorb the fact that the entire nation now thought I cried myself to sleep each night.

"Oh be quiet, it lets them know you're human." he pointed out.

"Of course I'm human; they don't need your stupid interview question to figure that out." I defended. Mrs. Hudson came over then, congratulating John and saying how great he did. The crowd was now laughing at something Irene must have said. I guess no one but Molly was really interested in what she had to say, I certainly wasn't.

"That was some funny stuff you said about Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson added with a laugh.

"Oh will you stop that!" I hissed.

"Do you need a tissue dear?" she asked.

"That is enough, thank you!"

"I'm sorry about that, I didn't really know what was coming out of my mouth half the time." John insisted.

"It's fine, there's probably been worse said." I assured. John just shrugged, but whatever he was going to say was lost to the cheering crowd. Irene walked into the room, and Mrs. Hudson rushed over to talk to her. Molly seemed to appear out of nowhere, congratulating Irene, who obviously didn't want to hear it.

"I'm tired, let's go home." She decided, walking away from the two and smiling rather chillingly at me.

"She is so weird." John hissed. I nodded in agreement.

"Well, I guess there's nothing else we need to do here, do you want to get on the train then?" Mrs. Hudson asked the two of us. I nodded, and John agreed that he would need a good night sleep. The last goodnight sleep both of us might have. We rode the short distance to the Tribute Center, which was just starting to regain its population, the people all returning from the interviews. Greg said hi to me from across the room, but I just waved halfheartedly and kept walking to the elevator. I knew this was going to be the moment, tonight, I would tell him, tonight nothing between us would be the same. We loaded into the elevator, riding it up to the Twelfth and final floor, grabbing quick bites to eat before breaking off into our rooms for the night. Molly and Mrs. Hudson sat on the couch, and Irene disappeared into her room. I went into my room, and to my slight surprise John wasn't tagging along. I shut the door, but left it unlocked in case he would come. I changed into my pajamas and sat on my bed, taking deep breaths of nerves. How was I going to do this? He'll probably be terrified; he might even walk out of here, who knows? The time passed and still the door didn't open, I was getting the feeling that this might be easier than I previously thought, he might not even show up. After a while I just gave up, maybe he was scared, maybe he was expecting me to come to his room, although he never told me I could. Nevertheless, I flipped the switch on the light and pulled the covers over me, trying to fall asleep. I knew I couldn't fall asleep, not when I knew that this was the last night that I had the comfort of knowing John was safe, that he wouldn't die in a blink of an eye. I tried to make myself forget about that, it was just another night in my room, in my old house, with the cold wind blowing through and the squeaky floorboards when my dad walked around. A little bit later I heard the door open, casting a streak of light through the darkness of my room. It was John, I could tell by his silhouette.

"Are you okay?" I asked, fearing that he was scared or even sleep walking. He didn't answer; he just walked over to the side of the bed and slipped under the covers with me, laying his head on my chest and wrapping his arms around my shoulders. My stomach twisted in a knot and my heart started to beat three times faster. I knew John could hear that too, his ear was pressed almost right on top of my heart. At first I had no idea what to do, I felt like I wasn't able to move, but then I regained control of myself, putting my arm comfortingly around him and holding him close, like a live human teddy bear.

"I'm terrified." He admitted in a weak voice. It was a voice I didn't recognize, it was fearful and broken. His confidence had gone, even though he had done everything he possibly could to win these games, he was convinced he would die.

"It's okay, I'm here." I assured, finding one of his hands with my free hand and holding it in an attempt to comfort him. I felt his breath on my chest, I felt his body heat next to mine, it was terrifying yet beautiful. I had no idea what I was supposed to do now, fall asleep, keep talking to him? I doubted there was anything I could say to convince him that the games would be fine, because we both knew that the games were nothing but fine. They were starvation, dehydration, freezing, disease, and murder wrapped up with a nice little Capital bow. I could feel his shaking, he was terrified, and that didn't improve my attempted positivity.

"John?" I muttered.

"Hm?" he hummed in response. I took a deep breath, not knowing if I should do this or not.

"I love you." I said in a very quiet voice. I prepared for him to run, to kick me and run for his life, but he didn't. But he didn't do that, in fact, he didn't do anything. His breath slowed down and his grip on my hand loosened, he must have been asleep. I smiled to myself, well that figures. The one time I actually try to express feelings, and he falls asleep. I guess that's what I get.