Mycroft sent a quick response telling her to indeed proceed with the rescheduling of several important meetings, knowing many may be hard to reschedule but also knowing that his brother would need his continues presence for the next few days. After packing up any papers that would require his immediate attention, he set off for 221B Baker Street, hoping that his brother would still be able to move and survive the ride back to their family estate, which Mycroft still inhabited. Despite any argument Sherlock might make Mycroft knew that the near silence that he existed in here would be more useful to Sherlock's recovery. It was after he had made all of the necessary precautions he set off in his car to 221B Baker Street.
Sherlock heard the buzz his phone made as it vibrated against his wooden night table. While Sherlock hoped that it was Mycroft agreeing to bring him medication that he so desperately was starting to require, it could have easily been Lestrade requesting his help on yet another case. Either way Sherlock was in no way capable of reaching over to get the phone and was now experiencing a blackout in his vision, that would prevented him from reading whatever text was awaiting him on his phone. He wasn't left wondering long, he had closed his eyes for only a moment it seemed, when he heard the door to 221B Baker Street Swing open and close gently behind whomever had just entered. Sherlock heard the ever-present clink of Mycroft's umbrella, which seemed to accompany his brother almost everywhere he went. Sherlock sighed in relief knowing the Mycroft would soon enter hopefully brining him the painkillers he so desperately.
Mycroft entered 221B Baker Street with the utmost caution, knowing that if Sherlock had reached just the start of this migraine episode that any noise he made would undoubtedly cause his brother a fresh stab of pain. Mycroft set his umbrella down near the door as he entered, he saw no sign of Sherlock in the main area or on the couch. It was with a heavy heart that he moved towards Sherlock's bedroom, fearful of what he might find. Although many people had indeed dubbed him the Iceman, he felt like anything but as concern for his younger sibling overwhelmed him. As he opened the door just a crack he could see Sherlock huddled on the far side of his bed, a pillow thrown over his head as he tried no doubt to block the pain that was coursing through him.
Sherlock cringed as a fresh wave of pain washed over him, no matter how hard Mycroft tried to be silent the clacking of his shoes on the wooden floor of 221B was in his mind just another cause of pain. He heard Mycroft open his bedroom door and enter as softly as he could. He waited for Mycroft to come over, but instead heard the feet retreating, at which he felt the slight bit of confusion, at least until the footsteps came closer to him. Mycroft removed the pillow from his head and replaced it with a cool compress, for which Sherlock at the moment was incredibly grateful. "Oh Sherlock, how on earth did you let it get this bad already?" Mycroft whispered, trying to cause he brother as little discomfort as possible. "Case" Sherlock mumbled. "Had to finish the case, pain wasn't bad then." Mycroft sighed, Sherlock had at least been in pain for a few hours. Based on Sherlock's lack of reply to his text Mycroft had the suspicion that his brother had already lost part if not all of his vision. However with Sherlock unable to move without a great deal of pain Mycroft thought it best to try and treat his brother's current symptoms first before any attempt was made to move him. Leaving Sherlock alone for the time being he quickly whipped out his phone to check with Anthea on when she would be able to procure the medication that he hoped would aid Sherlock's recovery, only to discover that she had already sent him a message saying that the package had been dropped off almost two minutes prior downstairs just inside the door of 221B. Mycroft felt a rush of gratitude, not that he would ever show it. The first round of medication would give Sherlock only a few hours of pain reduction but he did hope that in that window Sherlock would at least allow himself to be moved to their old family home. Once Mycroft had received the package from downstairs, he made his way once again into his younger brother's bedroom. Sherlock seemed to be going in and out of consciousness and Mycroft prepared the first injection and moved towards Sherlock. Mycroft watched at Sherlock stirred only slightly as the needle entered his arm. Mycroft proceeded to refresh the cool compress on his brother's forehead, noting with slight worry that Sherlock's forehead was slightly warm and clammy. Hoping that it was simply a result of the migraine and almost praying it was nothing more Mycroft moved out to living room to work on the documents he had brought with him and wait.