His hands are tied, and yet he still wishes he had an alternative. He's rarely wrong about anything, but this time he genuinely hopes he actually is; six months are a hell of a short time, and he's not prepared to lose his little brother over that period of time.
Nor over any period of time, for that matter.
Sherlock is still holding onto his devil-may-care attitude, as if he doesn't mind either way. Silly boy, is he really that oblivious to the fact that his loss would break Mycroft's heart?
Not that he expects Sherlock to be considerate enough to take his brother's feelings into account; and anyway, neither of them would ever admit to those feelings in the first place.
He tightens his grip on his umbrella more that strictly necessary as he shares the latest developments with his sibling. Sherlock merely shrugs his shoulders, then requests his phone in order to make one last call.
xxx
He's getting sentimental, he chides himself as he steps into John's flat only to find a shoal of goldfish cooing over the infant's crib.
A touch of distaste flickers across his features as Mary Watson announces her daughter's name. Still even he can't deny she's a beautiful creature, and that's when he finally notices the mousy pathologist standing to his right.
"You miss him, don't you?" she can't help but ask. He for one has never made the mistake to underestimate Molly Hooper, though he wasn't honestly expecting her to be so perceptive.
"Don't you?" he retorts, for it doesn't take Mycroft Holmes to guess that much.
The woman smiles sadly, and if Sherlock was there he would probably remind his big brother that caring is not an advantage.
However, Sherlock is far away, fighting a losing battle that has never been his own.
xxx
Mycroft always feigns indifference to his brother's fate, but that's something that comes at a price.
There are nights when he sits alone in his study, struggling to keep his worries at bay and wondering whether Sherlock was right in insinuating that he might feel lonely.
He tells himself it's strictly for her sake when he eventually relents and seeks out for Dr Hooper. She panics at first, then sees right through his lie the same way Sherlock used to do when they were kids.
"Let's have a coffee, shall we?" she suggests, and he barely catches himself before a smile can reach his lips.
This woman has a heart of gold as well as brains; now he sees why his brother is so fond of her.
He can barely recall the last time he'd felt at such an ease in the company of a goldfish.
xxx
Even his imperturbable PA raises a surprised eyebrow when the latest report about Sherlock's mission comes through. Mycroft is well aware that his brother couldn't care less about royalty, but that's probably the get-out-of-jail-free card he's been looking for all along.
Good for Prince Harry that the former consulting detective is so keen on returning to England, otherwise the whole country would be mourning his loss right now. As for Sherlock Holmes, he's still breathing, and that's an achievement in and of itself.
He sighs and decides he owes Dr Hooper a phone call. John might be Sherlock's best friend, but only Molly can really understand how much Mycroft cares for his little brother.
"He will be fine," he assures her, as if saying it out loud would actually make it true.
Perhaps it will be, someday.
xxx
Sherlock might be able to keep up a pretence of normality with his friends, but Mycroft is far from being a fool himself. His brother has spent the first night in London clutching onto his arm, as he assured him that the east wind wouldn't come for him ever again; emotional scars take longer to heal than physical ones, but that's only to be expected.
Oddly enough John Watson seems oblivious to this fact; he always thinks that Sherlock is above human frailties, but Mycroft knows well enough that he's not.
Molly Hooper knows that too, and he's quite pleased when she shows up in Baker Street at last.
"I believe you have a visit, brother mine," he says, watching as something close enough to affection graces Sherlock's features.
His little brother might ignore the basics about love, but even he has come to understand that being loved actually matters. That's why Mycroft meets Molly's gaze for the briefest of moments, then slowly walks away.