Outside was the shimmering white paint where grass once waved in the wind. The land was untouched by life it seemed; no footprints, no birds chirping, no violent winds of last night. Sherlock hummed at how calm nature could be sometimes. As Sherlock approached the bay window more details began to pop into view. Small spider-web designed ice crystals framed the window and melted quickly as he sat on the tan cushion. The area was cold and soothing. With each exhale fog would appear and distort his view of the barren area. Captivated by it all he failed to notice the long, well-paced step coming into his room.

"Beautiful is it not?"

Turning his head slowly to the voice of his brother, he smiled. It was thin and quick, but none the less a smile. Taking that as a silent invite, Mycroft sat down beside him.

"Mummy and Father have yet to wake. We should still get prepared for the day, yes?"

Sherlock quickly studied his brother who was obviously tired; failed to sleep most likely. Even so, Mycroft was an overachiever. His hair was slick and combed, black eco blazer on and well ironed as well as his trousers. Sherlock snorted, "You look stupid."

"Yes, well at least I have potential." He stood and strode to Sherlock's wardrobe. Quick to work he rummaged through the pile Sherlock called organized. "It is quite cold, I suggest a jumper…where is it?"

Sherlock shrugged in response and went to his bed where he took off his pajamas. "I don't need you choosing my wardrobe, you do realize that? I am not a child." Without a response from the elder, a white long sleeved dress shirt fell on top of Sherlock's mop, followed by a gray knitted jumper. The process of getting Sherlock ready for the day was monotonous. Such that Mycroft believed he should be given a pound per article of clothing he got Sherlock to wear.

"Mycroft, do you suppose we could go outside and play?" The word 'play' from Sherlock came out foreign and forced. "Mummy isn't here so-…"

Mycroft took a bite of his toast that he made. The sad truth was, Mummy and Father were rarely home. Thus, Mycroft was always left with the decisions and safety of his younger. It made him protective over the years. "I doubt that is a sound plan."

"Why?"

"Study. Also, precipitation in the form of ice crystals is knowledge not new. I have noticed your arousal of it, though. Is there a reason?"

"I wish to build what others call a Snow Man. I once watched one be created and I want to know why it is appealing. Like you stated, just ice crystals."

"They find it appealing due to their simple minds. Easily entertained. Sad really."

Sherlock shrugged and poked his toast. When silence left after a few minutes, he piped up again. "How would you know?"