hunger games au

[bigbrotheriswatching]

He ushers them out late at night, each carrying a rucksack, in anticipation of hard times ahead. They have to get to the train station on their own. If they can make it that far, they stand a chance. The question right now is just to look as calm and reasonable as possible, and not get stopped, despite Sherlock's newfound celebrity, and Mycroft's lingering popularity as well.

One thing he hadn't counted on, unfortunately, was the public interest in the brother story. Younger, trained by the older, picking up the mantle as it were. It's been a long time since Mycroft was in competition, a very long time, but the world hasn't forgotten him quite as much as he'd hoped.

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[the_new_sexy]

He loves Sherlock. Sherlock lets out a little rueful laugh at that. Their relationship has always been strained, though they are brothers. Mycroft loves Sherlock. Sherlock thinks that if he didn't hate his brother so much, he might love him as well. Shame they'd never know that.

"They'll sweep the forest in a clockwise motion," he says, gesturing to the grass. The grass is overgrown, but there is a slight burn of hovercraft energy at the tips.

"The trees? Build a small sleeping area there?"

[bigbrotheriswatching]

"We're not far enough yet. Another hour or so walking will put us just at the point where the search begins to thin, where the night begins to grow cold and they wish to turn back, where their haste can be used against them."

He agrees with the idea, though.

"It'll be a small lean-to, it'll give us a little more camouflage."

[the_new_sexy]

Sherlock nods.

"All right." Mycroft is the more experienced. He knows how they operate, he's survived the games. But Sherlock feels like there's something else. Something that they're both missing.

It was too easy to escape. They set up failsafes against this.

[bigbrotheriswatching]

Mycroft feels it too, and when he's finally ready to stop for the night he clears his throat, glancing around at the low light.

"We need to gather sticks, branches, and the like. And consider what we might be missing."

Because it must be something.

[the_new_sexy]

"Smoke will attract attention. We should set the fire up long before we make camp," Sherlock advises.

He looks up to the sky. No sign of hovercrafts. He'd have expected them by now. At least looming by, attempting to find them.

"Making an example of you," he thinks aloud. "Allowing you the ability to get this far, but then catching you---when? When would be the best time?"

[bigbrotheriswatching]

"Oh, no fire. The branches are for the lean-to. I wouldn't risk flames for another few days' walk."

Stooping to pick up a long branch for the backbone of the structure.

[the_new_sexy]

"When would be the most appropriate time to catch someone they want to make an example of? Not the first day, that would be too obvious."

He doesn't pick up any branches, he just follows, his mind elsewhere, his eyes on the sky.

[bigbrotheriswatching]

"Even if they are just humouring us the first day, there's no sense making them aware of our whereabouts. We can only hope to slip away before they catch us in earnest, use their own game against them."

Easier said than done, of course.

"The answer might be going deeper into the woods."