He paused at the door to the open room. The machinery was off, the bag of saline solution and the unmentionable was gone. The room was dark, and quiet, and still. For a moment his heart contracted. But surely someone would have told him?
Ah, he thought, and padded quietly through the hospital halls to another room. He stopped a way aways from the open door. Two bodies lay intertwined together, duplicate machines decorating the head of the bed. He tried not to stare, he really did, but you didn't get a new family member every day. A dark head raised itself up, eyes glinting in the dark.
Mycroft raised a hand, part in greeting, part in acquiescence, part in go-back-to-sleep and the rubber band around his chest eased away. He turned around, and walked towards one of the guards - ill disguised in scrubs he noted - posted to the floor.
