Oh Brother.

As John and Charlotte ran across the moor, he took note of the buildings her could see in the distances. About a mile to the east of Holmes manor was a much smaller house, with most of the lights lit up, then another estate the size of Holmes manor about a mile east again from there. Around half a mile south of there was a house and stables, all lit up. Where they were heading was south of Holmes manor, if John were to estimate, it was about a mile. He was very much completely out of breath and in pain by the time they reached it. Charlotte was only slightly out of breath, the wound in her side was clearly hurting her, she was valiantly trying to hide it from him though.

He took a minute to return from the brink of dying before looking back over the moor. There was a town across the moor, further than anything else from Holmes Manor. He looked back to the house they had come from, there were no discernible lights on in the house. Though it was hard to tell as thick bushes reached the first floor of the house. Covering most of the windows.

“What happened?” Charlotte said as she and John arrived at what was obviously a stable. Sherlock looked reasonably proud that his sister had escaped cuffs so easily. Mycroft didn’t even acknowledge her presence, he was stood disapprovingly some distance from the others, looking out over the moor. Sherlock pointed at a man who was slumped in a chair, with a young woman sobbing next to him, in what seemed like relief. There were a small group of people gathered now. Plainly the residents of the house. One of the stable boys was trying to comfort the dog, who had been barking loudly at Sherlock and Mycroft when Charlotte and John arrived.

“She thought he was dead.” He said simply, “a horse is gone.” Sherlock added, pointing to an empty stable block. Charlotte took note of the name of the door. She turned to the residents of the house.

“Not Blazing Silver? Isn’t he running on Saturday?” One of the younger boys nodded.

“It was his last night in these stables. He moves to the racetrack stables tomorrow morning.”

“Blazing Silver?” John asked Charlotte quietly, still recovering his breath.

“He’s a horse. Talk of the district. Somomy stock. And a brilliant runner. I know a man in Tavistock who will be distinctly upset at his disappearance.”

“Fitz?” Sherlock said, distracted, from his position crouched in Blazing Silver’s stable. Charlotte smiled.

“Yeah. I went to see him today. He says hey.”

“Yeah I bet he does.” Mycroft said quietly. Charlotte rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Go back to bed grumpy.”

“No.” Her brother replied simply, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. The dog in the corner growled a little louder, clearly distressed at the amount of strangers in his stable.

“Why don’t you take the dog inside?” Charlotte said sweetly to the boy who was tending to him. He nodded, nervous, and took the dog away. Growling and barking loudly as he went.

Sherlock suddenly stood up and looked after the dog. Then he smiled. Charlotte frowned at him, then turned her head to look at the growling dog. She copied his smile unconsciously.

“The curious incident of the dog in the night time.” She muttered under her breath.

“Exactly.” Sherlock muttered back. He turned back to the stable wall. An overcoat was hung there, but no bridle. “Hmm.”

“Where is my horse?!” A voice yelled from the house.

“Time to make ourselves scarce I think.” Sherlock said, upon hearing the voice. Charlotte nodded and they both disappeared into the night before either Mycroft or John could react.

A monstrously tall man appeared in the stable door, his fair-hair billowing out like a lion’s mane.

“Colonel. Please. A bit of decorum.” Mycroft commented, moving to stop him entering the stable. Mycroft was tall, but this man a good 4 inches taller, and a great deal broader in the shoulder department. John felt a little stumpy suddenly.

“Get out of my way Holmes.” He pushed past Mycroft into the stable. “Where is he?”

“Gone sir. Taken.” Said one of the boys quietly.

“What?!” The girl let out a sob. “Shut the infernal girl up.” The only other woman stood in the crowd moved forward and tried to pull her away from the unconscious man. The younger girl lashed out and threw herself back onto the man with renewed cries. “It’s not like he’s dead you stupid girl. Look at him. He’s clearly drugged. Shut up and get out.” He roared at the girl. Nearly everyone in the stable winced, bar Mycroft, who was used to the Colonels voice, John, who had heard louder explosions in Afghanistan, and the unconscious man.

“Colonel Ross. I don’t think you are helping the girl.” Mycroft had the two remaining men in the crowd carry the unconscious man back to the house. With the two women following dutifully. Ross fumed for a little while, searching his stable.

“The police have been called?” He said, louder than he normally would have, as per the influence of anger. Mycroft nodded.

“So I am led to believe. Your cook rang them.”

“It would be her, she’s the only one with any bloody sense in her.” Mycroft smiled faintly.

“It seems your stable man became intoxicated after eating his dinner. My brother seemed to think opium poisoning.” Ross looked at Mycroft as he talked of Sherlock.

“Your brother was here?” Mycroft nodded.

“Yes. Still avoiding you. They will for eternity no doubt.” The man let out a booming laugh.

“Good. Keep them away from me. Bloody kids.” Mycroft smiled. “Bane of my existence when him and his infernal sister were young.” John wondered what Charlotte and Sherlock had done to this man to make them so wary of him.

“They are not children anymore Ross. He is a detective in fact. From the look on his face he has already figured out who has taken your horse.”

“Really? You don’t say.” Ross said in thought. “Send them round tomorrow morning.” John looked at Mycroft.

“Charlotte hasn’t had any sleep yet. I doubt she will be awake in the morning.” Mycroft looked at John, Ross seemed to notice his presence for the first time.

“Colonel George Ross and who, exactly, are you?” He said, holding out a hand for John to shake, which he did, and nearly lost his arm from the force.

“Major John Watson. 3rd batallion.”

“Ah, an army man. You were at the Khyber Pass were you not? The medical man who got shot trying to help Rifleman Jones.”

“You have heard of me?”

“Yes. Your team were quite proud of you it seems. Running out for that injured man. Risking your life.” John looked away retiringly. “Do not be humble. I have heard the story near three times now. From separate men too. Be proud of your actions good man. How be it that you’re here?” The Colonel asked.

“He is ‘friends’ with my brother.” Mycroft commented, pausing slightly on the word ‘friends’. John glanced at him and frowned. The Colonel looked him up and down.

“Really? Hm, surprising.”

“Yes. And I will be going back to the house now if you don’t mind. Tired you understand. Exhausting business knowing the Holmes family. Hard to keep up.” Ross laughed loudly.

“Yes. Quite. I hope to see you with the younger Holmes’ in the morning Major.” John nodded politely and started the walk back to Holmes Manor.