The Train - 2

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Out of all the things I assumed I would be, travelsick was not one of them. Shortly after we were given time to say our goodbyes to our loved ones (Or in my case, my insufferable yet sorely missed older brother and John's father) we were ushered out of the rooms and taken to a part of the district that wasn't usually seen by people. The train station was not a place I had been to before, I wasn't even aware it existed. Well, of course it must have. Tributes needed a way to get to the Capitol. The train we boarded was grand, luxury in a way I never thought possible. It seemed like the finest materials in Panem were covering the sofas, the table, even the curtains were patterned. 'Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.' God, that made me sick. Panem meant nothing, not Panem as a nation. The Capitol was everything to them, they had all the riches, they had all the money and the power. Our tiny lives didn't count at all, each district was as powerless as the next, excluding one and two. They actually liked the Capitol. Deranged, the lot of them. Effie had her own cabin, gold and mahogany covering every inch of furniture. It hurt to go in there, so I decided to stay well away.

The travelsickness was never something I expected, mainly because I had no desire to travel, and no money to get out of the district anyway. I learned a little too late that it was better to look out of a window and remain still, but I managed to keep it in. When John noticed my slight change in expression and position, he got closer to me. He hadn't said anything since the reaping and I assumed that he didn't want to talk. He was a solitary person with a moderately high opinion of himself. I assumed it was because he didn't want me to volunteer for him because he thought he could do it, but under closer inspection, he was as terrified as I was. His shoulders were shaking as he sat beside me, knees pulled up to his chest in a desperate attempt at protecting himself. My protective instinct took over and I wrapped an arm around him, bringing him into my chest so I could keep him close. Keep his thoughts as far away from their game as possible. He remained quiet, sometimes looking up at me like he had intentions of speaking to me but then sighed and looked back down again. I cleared my throat quietly and sighed. “I apologise for trying to volunteer in your place. I was just trying to keep you alive, away from this-...” I cut myself off in fear of saying too much or accidentally saying something that would affend him, and looked down at John, who now met my eye. His face was burned into my memory, branded there forever under a section of things he never wanted to see again for as long as he lived. The fear on John's face was strong, unbelievable even. “I understand if you don't want to talk to me, I probably offended you. Your family is strong and you don't need to be replaced by a lanky idiot such as myself, but you're all I have, John. I would do anything-... Absolutely anything in what little power I have to keep you from dying out there.” John's expression had turned to one of something similar to pain. A small tear ran down his cheek, which I quickly removed. He wasn't allowed to cry. That's what his father said. If John cried, people would think he was weak and target him. They couldn't be more wrong. John was strong, a warrior at heart.

The voice that came from beside my chest was one I would never forget, a broken sounding voice that hit me like a wave, stabbing at me like a thousand knives, each with the intention of tearing me apart, ripping me to shreds and slicing me until there was nothing left. So much meaning in those few simple words. “Sherlock, I'm scared.” John's trembling was more forceful now, more violent against me. I brought him closer to my chest, just holding him wordlessly, letting him know that I was there, letting him know I would keep his heart beating for as long as I could. The doors opened to the dining carriage of the train, showing the table piled so high with food that it was a wonder it hadn't buckled under the weight. A third of the table was dedicated to cakes and desserts, ice cream and jelly, meringues and tarts. All of which made me sick to my stomach. The vast expanse of food was such a shock to both me and John that we remained seated in the back carriage of the train and just stared. Panem rushed by behind us, showing the few acres of woodland that hadn't yet been claimed by the Capitol or a specific district. That was the best part, ideal hunting ground. Though there was no need for hunting in such a magnificent, luxurious area as this. John remained close to my chest, though his pained expression changed to one of wonder and slight confusion. Neither of us had seen this much food contained in a small area.

Effie's voice rang out through the train, “Come on dears, you must be hungry. I hear they practically starve you down in thirteen. Terrible living conditions.” She turned to Sally Donovan, who was staring longingly at a pile of Belgian waffles. “Oh, child. Isn't the mahogany just to die for?” Sally didn't give her an answer, but instead piled her own plate high with waffles, burgers and potatoes cooked in various different ways (that seemed a little too excessive for my liking – potatoes were good enough alone, they didn't need breadcrumbs or frying.) Effie turned her nose up at Donovan's unsophisticated nature of having all three courses on one plate, but kept her mouth shut. “Poor dear, they must be treating you so terribly down there. Sherlock, John, join us.” John got up quite shakily and wiped all traces of tears from his cheeks. I decided I would take the more solitary, protesting way of going about this year's games. I allowed myself half of a waffle and refused to eat another bite for the rest of the day. The waffle was unlike anything I have ever eaten. It was perfect, sweet and cooked to the point where it was delicious and practically melted on my tongue. I hadn't even heard of waffles before now, but I needed to push the perfect dessert out of my mind. I needed to make my point. While John joined Donovan, I made my way over to Sarah, the other female tribute. She had also taken my approach and refused to eat, but covered it up with a simple, yet ineffective 'I'm not hungry'. Effie saw right through it, of course, but didn't press her for answers.

“I'm going to die first. I'll step off that podium before the timer counts down to zero and they have to say in it.” she whispered, now fully aware that I was listening. “I don't want to watch all the death and bloodshed. I just want to die.” I nodded at this, knowing my attempts at stopping her were pointless. She was alone, no motivation to continue life. It was evident that she wouldn't survive the games. She had no hunting ability or experience with a weapon. She just existed, being kind to everyone and everything in her path. “That's a little excessive. You could join an alliance, make your time in there worthwhile.” I murmured, trying to say something positive. I couldn't find much to say on the topic though. “At least eat. You need to keep your metabolism up through training, even if you do nothing.” I paused for a while, just watching John. “Surely there's something, anything you have back there to make you want to stay.”

//AN: (again) UwU two chapters in one night? Woah... Don't get high expectations, I have a two week holiday soon and I intend to finish this before then. I may update on my phone but omf that's going to be so slow//

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