Friday morning Mycroft felt as though something was off. He felt down his horse's legs and felt no heat, even had their father check the horse. There was nothing wrong with her, nothing out of the ordinary at all. Even Sherlock told Mycroft he was just nervous when he confided in his younger brother. Sherlock had ridden his course very well, of course Mycroft didn't think he'd have any problems anyway. Candy Cane was used to jumping much larger fences so eagerly jumped everything in sight on the one star course, and Sherlock was just good enough that he could stay on her back for the ride. Sherlock was a ball of energy now after his ride, which was both comforting and nerve-wracking to Mycroft.

Despite his strong feelings that something was wrong, Mycroft took their word for it that everything was fine, he was just nervous. It was the size of the jumps, and the complexity of the course that made him wary. Nothing was wrong with Starlight Express, the grey mare had performed excellently the day before, and nothing unusual had happened since then. This morning had been just like usual, they arrived and she nickered when she saw Sherlock and him. She ate all her grain, drank normally too. Everything was just fine. In fact, it had stopped raining, the sky was clear and blue with not a cloud in sight.

Sensing his older brother was nervous, Sherlock helped Mycroft groom once again. Mycroft even lifted Sherlock up so that the little boy could reach the horse's back. As the time to start neared though, Sherlock had to go off with their father to find a seat. Sherlock insisted on sitting by the water jump, because that was his favorite one. Mycroft didn't like that jump though, in fact it was his least favorite on the course.

Mycroft almost didn't want Sherlock to go find a seat, he wanted that moral support. However the boy and his father went anyway, leaving him alone. Mycroft leaned against his Brolly, tangling his fingers in her hunter length grey mane. She nudged him, as though to reinforce what everyone else had told him. That everything was fine, just fine.

Over the speakers, Mycroft heard his name called. He took a deep breath before swinging up onto the horse and heading towards the starting area. Outwardly he kept himself calm, the only thing potentially giving him away being the way he gripped his riding crop. Suddenly it was his turn, and he waited for them to give him the start. The man holding the stopwatch began counting down, ten, nine, eight.

Mycroft leaned forward slightly, seven, six, Starlight Express was playing with the bit in her mouth, he tugged on her in order to get her full attention, five, four, three, two, one, GO. With a flick on the crop on her shoulder, Starlight Express shot out of the starters box like a bullet from a gun. Mycroft had heard she was a brilliant starter during her racing career, and the takeoff she had usually helped with these cross country courses.

The jumps were large and the combinations incredibly complex, but one by one they cleared them. With each and every jump Mycroft felt his confidence building. Everyone was right after all, everything was fine! The only thing that wasn't really fine was the going, the track was a muddy torn up mess from all the horses that had gone before them. The pouring rain the day and night before had absolutely soaked the track. Before the jumps it was rather muddy and chopped up, but Mycroft trusted his brolly to get them through safely. She was sure of foot, and never once tripped.

Another jump cleared, Mycroft looked up ahead to see what was coming next. He had walked this course earlier, and knew what was coming, but to him it seemed incredibly different on the back of his horse. It was a short hill that went down to a drop into water, then they had to jump over something in the water, then jump out of the water. Then the rest of the course was a breeze, in Mycroft's opinion. Starlight Express was jumping incredibly well, and Mycroft felt almost as though they were flying. She tugged slightly on his hand, asking for more rein. Confidently, he gave it to her.

Tapping his riding crop on her side, she began moving a little faster down the hill, however just before dropping down into the water her front legs slipped forward and out from under her. Mycroft pulled her head up and used his crop and leg to encourage her to keep going. She dropped down into the water awkwardly, nearly unseating her rider. Mycroft held onto her mane, pulling himself back onto her. Her strides in the water were large bounding leaps as the water was deeper than it should have been due to the rain, and Mycroft felt as though he had lost all control. He pulled on her head sharply to the left, attempting to stop her before the jump. All his confidence was lost in an instant, they couldn't do this!

She didn't listen, for once in all the years they'd been together, she didn't listen. She took the bit in her mouth and kept on towards the jump. Suddenly they were in front of the jump, far too close, however Starlight Express didn't seem to care. She launched herself up over it, catching Mycroft completely off-guard.

What happened next happened so quickly, Mycroft to this day can't remember it in great detail. However Sherlock saw it all happen, and remembered every milisecond. Starlight Express' valient efforts to jump were not good enough, her front legs caught on the front of the jump and she unseated Mycroft as she toppled over the jump. He landed in the water first, she landed atop him, however at the awkward angle she landed at she had broken her neck, killing her instantly. It was a one in a million accident the way she'd landed, and Sherlock felt both horrified and fascinated that such a thing had just happened to his brother.

People rushed to Mycroft's aid, shoving the horse off him before she drowned him. Sherlock was told by their father to stay where he was, however he ventured away anyway and stood at the edge of the water, watching as they pulled his brother out. Even at the tender age of six, he knew that Starlight Express was dead and there was nothing to be done about it. However he wasn't sure what his reaction should be. People around him were crying, others just stared at the scene in shock. Sherlock just replayed what had happened in his mind, and wondered if something had been wrong with the horse after all. A very small part of him wondered if his father would allow him to experiment on the horse now that it was dead.

After that things were a blur. Sherlock watched them carry his brother off on a stretcher, and watched them drag the grey lifeless form of Starlight Express out of the water. He'd just ridden her two days prior, somehow it didn't seem real. He secretly pinched himself to see if he was dreaming, but he wasn't. They covered her with a black tarp until she could be moved off the course and out of the eyes of the public. Sherlock decided there was something he had to do. While his father spoke with someone on what to do with the horse, he pick-pocketed him. Their father always carried a pocket knife, he had told them once it was a useful tool. Indeed, Serlock knew it was.

He approached the horse's form, slowly for probably the first time in his life. He pulled the tarp away from her face, kneeling next to her head and rubbing her neck. "Mycroft will miss you Brolly, 'cause Mycroft loves you" he said under his breath, grabbing three fistfuls of her short mane and cutting it off with the knife. He put the hair and the knife in his pocket before rubbing the horse's nose and covering her back over. "Bye Brolly," he said before standing and returning to his father's side.

They went straight to the hospital, their father handing over the matters of the horse to someone else. They were supposed to bring the horse back to the farm and bury it in its paddock immediately. Sherlock was glad for what he'd done, Mycroft would never get the opprotunity. On the ride over to the hospital their father gave Mycroft's leather riding crop, which he'd been handed at the scene of the accident, to Sherlock. He didn't want to carry it, and figured his younger son could use the distraction.

Sherlock wasn't exactly bored at the hospital, though he certainly wasn't very excited to be there. Their mummy greeted them in the waiting room, and scooped Sherlock up into her arms, refusing to let go. Sherlock tried to pry himself away from his weepy parent, but to no avail. He resigned himself to her coddling before finally managing to break free. His parents began to speak to each other in hushed voices after that, Sherlock didn't bother to listen. Instead he walked over to the play area and sat down, pulling the pieces of mane out of his pocket. Mycroft had taught him how to braid once, using the very hair in his hand to demonstrate on.

Carefully, he divided the hair into three evenish sections, before braiding it into a short chain and tying off both ends with a piece of string he had in his pocket that he'd cut in half with the pocket knife. He was going to use the string for an experiment later, but he could always get some more. Once it was done he stored the braid in his pocket and forgot about it.

Hours passed, Sherlock began to get bored. He made another child cry by telling them that their parents were both cheating on each other and that they would be split up within the year. He also got scolded at by his father when the man finally realized his son had taken his pocket watch. Then Sherlock imagined Mycroft's riding crop was a pirate sword, and used it to knock over piles of beaten up toys that were in the play area.

Finally though, the doctor came out and told them that Mycroft had shattered his leg in several places and he'd needed surgery to repair the damage. Though it would heal, it would always hurt him to walk. In addition to that, he also had severely bruised ribs, and concussion. Luckily though, he'd been taken out of the water before any damage could happen due to drowning, so as soon as he woke up he would be ok. They were allowed into the room to see him, Sherlock followed behind his parents so he could peak into other rooms and deduce what was wrong with the people in them. A nurse saw him after he peeked in the third room though and he was forced to scamper the rest of the way after his parents without looking anymore.

When they reached Mycroft's room, Sherlock thought his brother looked stupid. At least, that's what he told his parents outwardly. They told him to mind his manners, so he went into the corner and sat on a white plastic chair, watching his brother from across the room. Perhaps stupid wasn't the right word, he just seemed different. Small, weak, pale, dead popped into Sherlock's mind as well although he knew that Mycroft definately wasn't dead.

More hours passed, until it was nearly 2 in the morning. Father had sent Mummy home to get a little rest, promising to call her if anything changed. He himself had just left the room to go get a coffee. Sherlock decided to get closer to his brother, so he hoisted himself onto the bed and sat next to him, swinging his legs off the side. Suddenly his brother's voice made him turn and look.

"Sherly"

Sherlock didn't know what to say, so he just replied, "I'm here Mycroft.

"Is my Brolly alright?"

There was a long silence, because Sherlock didn't know whether it would be best to lie to his brother or not. What would his parents want him to say? What would Mycroft, were he fully awake and alert want him to say? "I'm sure your Brolly is fine." he finally told him.

"Can I see my Brolly?"

Sherlock scrambled for an excuse to avoid this conversation, "You're in the hospital and just woke up. Your Brolly is all the way back at the stables, so no."

Mycroft became incredibly uneasy over this news, and began examining the room. Sherlock grabbed his brother's hand, to get him to look back at him. "Go to sleep Mycroft, you'll have your brolly back," he assured him, he had never felt so bad for lying to his brother before. He never would feel so badly about it again.

The older Holmes closed his eyes, and squeezed his brother's hand, "Get rest Sherlock, jumping today."

Sherlock swallowed thickly, "I know Myc, I'll let you have my ribbon since you won't get one." However Mycroft hadn't heard him, he was already sound asleep. When their father returned Sherlock told him what had happened. The man sat in the chair he'd pulled up at the bedside, leaning back in it and steepling his fingers under his chin, before looking up at his son. "Sherlock, I don't want you to lie to your brother. He is a little more, sensitive, than the two of us. He needs the news quickly, it'll be like ripping off a plaster. The longer we draw out the news, the longer it will hurt him. He'll get over it if we just tell him."

"When should we tell him, Father?" Sherlock asked, slightly troubled. What his father was saying made sense, but he certainly didn't want to be there when Mycroft recieved the news.

The man thought for a moment, "When we get home. I'll bring him straight into my office, so that your mother isn't there to make a scene out of it. It's alright if you don't want to be there Sherlock, I'll tell him myself."

Nodding in agreement, Sherlock allowed his father to arrange the chairs so that Sherlock could lie down with his head on his father's leg. "Get a little sleep Sherlock, your mother will come in a few hours and I'll take you back for the show jumping."

"Father?"

"Yes Sherlock?"

"I don't know how to braid a horse's mane. Mycroft showed me, but he does it better."

"Don't worry Sherlock, I'll braid the horse's mane for you tomorrow."

"Thank you Father."

Sherlock drifted to sleep then, and to him it seemed as though his eyes had only been shut a moment when his father was shaking him awake. Blearily, Sherlock got up, stretched, shivered slightly at how cold it was in the room, and then he said good morning to his mother who kissed him and wished him luck.

By the time they returned, the atmosphere of the whole event had changed. Sherlock noticed right away, as he'd finally gotten himself awake. People threw pitying looks in his direction as he walked over to Candy Cane's stall. The mare shoved her nose at Sherlock, and the boy patted it almost as though he were unsure. It almost didn't seem worth it without Mycroft there to see.

As he had promised, Sherlock's father braided the black mane and helped his son brush off the parts of the mare's back that Sherlock was too short to reach. As his father had braided Candy Cane's mane, Sherlock had changed into his show jumping atire. Just like everything else, it was a little big on him. This time though, he didn't mind. In fact he didn't even complain about the garters.

Wordlessly, his father boosted him up onto Candy Cane's back and lead him towards the arena where he'd been called. Sherlock's mind was racing, however he knew the course and was confident that he could complete it. At the sight of the jumps, Candy Cane began to prance under him, full of energy and waiting for the sweet release Sherlock would soon give to her. He entered the ring, letting Candy Cane walk around and look at all the jumps for a moment.

"Let the horse do the work, just stay in your two point," Mycroft's voice echoed in his mind. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock loosened his rein slightly and sent Cany Cane into a canter, standing up in his stirrups. He turned the horse towards the first fence, and suddenly the time was ticking in his head. She approached the jump, leaping over it easily.

"She'll over-jump, the fences she used to take were much higher than the ones you'll be on. Focus on guiding her in the right direction and staying in control," Mycroft's voice chimed as Sherlock steered the thoroughbred to the second jump. With each jump, Sherlock urged his horse faster. He knew they'd jump clean, he just had to get the fastest time. Skillfully, he used all the tricks Mycroft had taught him to shave the time. As they cleared the last fence with not a single fault, Sherlock felt great. He enjoyed the thrill, the thought that went into it. However, once again, the fun in it was gone somewhat without his brother.

Just as Mycroft had told him, Sherlock went home with a ribbon. Not only a ribbon, but a trophy as well and a rosette. He'd won in his division, and he felt very proud of himself. He offered Candy Cane extra carrots after the ceremony before helping to load her onto the trailer that would return her to the farm. The bay seemed confused as they began shutting the trailer doors, as though she wondered where Starlight Express was. Why wasn't the big grey beside her going home?

Sherlock presented Mycroft the ribbon that night when he visited the hospital. The older boy smiled weakly and thanked his brother for it. Sherlock then sat on his brother's bed silently, yawning. He ended up lying down beside him, curling into his brother and draping an arm carefully over his torso. Normally he wouldn't want to cuddle his stupid older brother, but this was different. He had a feeling that when Mycroft found out the truth about his Brolly, he wouldn't get the chance to ever do this again. He also felt comforted, feeling his brother's steady breathing beside him. Starlight Express's once intelligent eyes had been blank and dead yesterday, her sides still and unmoving and her heart no longer beating. Sherlock shuddered and held his brother tighter at the thought that Mycroft might have been the same.