Mycroft Age: 19

I gaze out over the edge of the cliff, feeling the cool breeze toss my hair about. A vacation. A good one, a planned one and mummy made me promise to bring Sherlock along. To which I obliged. Poor kid. I stick my hands in my pockets and let out a sigh. I haven't seen him since we've been here. We got out of the car and he disappeared.

I think he might hate me.

Sadly, it bothers me that he would hate me so much. I didn't do anything except leave. And yet, he hates me so completely it's nearly corporeal. I was unaware that anyone could hate so much.

But.

A thought I would have preferred to stay buried drifts across my brain. Maybe it's not me he hates. Maybe he just hates mummy for what she did to him. Us. I shake my head in confusion. I will never understand him. Sherlock is too complex. I watch the water lap against the rocks below and wonder what it would be like to fall.

Not that I would fall on purpose. Not that I'd actually want to fall. Obviously. But just, what would it feel like? Would I be scared? Would it hurt? How and where would it hurt? I'm not curious enough to find out so I just look down and wonder about it. I cock my head to the side, trying to imagine the sensation of falling and landing on the rocks. I close my eyes and can feel myself falling, I can feel the rocks digging into my back, breaking my bones. I can almost smell my blood swirling away in the churning water and see Sherlock peering over the edge, a startled expression on his face as he watches his brother die, hundreds of feet below him, unable to do anything.

I blink to wash the morbid image away and turn toward the house. I open my mouth to call for Sherlock, only to have the words shoved down my throat as my body is pushed over the edge. With the sudden drop my arms fly up and grip the edge of the cliff. I cry out as the weight of my body is distributed to my shoulders. I didn't see my attacker.

What the hell just happened?

I pull up to try and get back on solid ground as my feet kick against the side of the cliff. If I let go now… I'm dead.

"SHERLOCK!" I scream at the top of my lungs. "SHERLOCK!" I faintly hear the door open and Sherlock's face suddenly appears over the cliff.

"Mycroft? What the hell? Is this a joke?"

The side of the cliff, the sharp rocks bite into my skin.

"For Christ's sake Sherlock! Pull me up!" He frowns.

"How did you…." He asks, the question trailing off.

"I don't know. Someone pushed me." I reply impatiently. I can't feel my fingers. All the blood in my arms is leaving and my shoulders hurt, my arms are being pulled and my palms are bleeding. "Just pull me up! I can't feel my fingers!" His frown deepens. He reaches out to grab my arms. He's shaking. What the hell? "Sherlock? What's wrong!" I ask as he pulls his arms back. "What's the matter?" Shit. I'm going to die, I'm going to fall off this cliff and die. What a coincidence that I was thinking about it before it happened. Shit.

"If I touch you, you'll fall!" He exclaims, fear causing his voice to crack. He's scared. He's too scared to do anything. Shit.

"Sherlock!" I say his name loudly so he can hear me. "I won't fall. I promise!" His cheeks glisten. Christ. He's crying.

"You can't be sure! You've already left me once! I can't- Mycroft!" Normally this would be touching, but I can't have this right now. Or I'll die.

"Sherlock." Stern now, "You have to pull me up. Now. I can't feel my bleeding fingers and if this continues, I'll have to let go. Can you pull me up now?" Sherlock doesn't say anything and appears to be thinking. Then he stands up and turns to walk back toward the house. "WHAT THE HELL SHERLOCK?" The fear sinks in. He's going to let me die. My fingers slip and I try to hold on harder. Within seconds my right hand falls away and I haven't the strength to pull it back up. "Shit." I murmur. A rope is tossed over the side and Sherlock's face appears over the edge again.

"Grab the rope." He commands. I shake my head.

"I can't Sherlock."

"Damn." I open my mouth to reprimand him. Mummy doesn't like it when he swears. "Hold on Mycroft. I'm coming." He mounts the rope and starts over the edge. When he reaches me he wraps my arm around his shoulders. "Hang on." He says and tugs me over. My other hand slips off and as I'm about to fall, Sherlock catches me. Putting both of my arms around his neck he starts to climb. "Mycroft." He says, stopping. "You have to move your legs." I nod and bury my head into his neck while he climbs. Assisting him as best I can.

"Thank you." I whisper. "I thought you were going to leave me." He doesn't say anything when we reach the top and simply tells me to get off of him. I roll onto the cold grass and lay staring up at the sky. He sits down next to me. We're silent. No words need to be spoken.

"Mycroft?"

"Hm?"

"I could never leave you." I prop myself up on my elbows and look at him.

"What?"

"I couldn't leave you on that cliff. I couldn't."

"What are you saying?" He glances at me.

"I don't hate you Mycroft. I hate what you did. Grounds enough to let you hang a little longer I think. But I couldn't leave you there to die like you left me. I'm better than that." I purse my lips.

"I didn't leave you to die." Sherlock shakes his head and stares in front of him.

"Yes you did. And you know it." Thinking back I did know when I was leaving that I was abandoning my brother to a fate that should have been mine, and I still left him. I left him with that bastard father, and a coward mother, and I left him alone, and by himself. The light dawns on me, he's a better man than I'll ever be.

"I'm sorry." I breathe, hoping he'll hear me, but dreading if he does. He doesn't say anything, but nods instead. 'I know,' it seems to say, 'I know that you're sorry, but I can never forgive you,". He'll hate me for the rest of his life, but it's okay, because he doesn't hate me he hates what I do. Maybe one day he'll go out and meet someone worse than I, someone who actually does terrible things, and then maybe he'll come around. Maybe he'll give me the chance to save him.

Maybe.

I HAVE RETURNED FROM THE DEAD! I am back, there will still be gaps between everything because of my Jim project titled, 'Thought You Might Call' and I want to start another thing, but probably won't for a while. Well, two other things really. Anyway, don't forget to review, and I love all of you!

Until Gallifrey is free, I am yours,

Time Lord Victorious