Sorry it took such a long time to post this chapter. I have a lot of work to do at the moment, I fear. But this morning I found some time to write… And now you will all learn something new about Mycroft Holmes Thank you all for reading and for your kind reviews.

Chapter 8

Mycroft Holmes felt the burning pain in his chest, a reminder of his exhaustion and the fear that was constantly nagging at his mind. Caring was not an advantage. Mycroft had not slept for two days, the computers were humming softly around him, telephones ringing. Anthea was his never ending fountain of coffee. It kept him running. Mycroft massaged his temples – headache was getting worse – when his phone suddenly vibrated again.

"Yes", he snapped.

"Hm, Sir, Captain Miller, Sir... we... we..."

"Don't stammer, man. What is it now? Found my brother?" Mycroft again felt his furious anger attacking his own body, a throbbing pain in his head. So stupid. He should have known not to trust his brother. Why should Sherlock for once behave, only for once do as his older brother had asked: Stay with the team. Don't try something stupid, don't do it on your own. But it was the first time that Mycroft understood his brother's motives. Love was a strong emotion. Mycroft had once in his youth allowed himself that sentimental feeling, only once and it had been an experience he had in some ways regretted since. This love had nearly cost him his brother. Sophia. Had she been worse it? Mycroft's attachment had started his brother's downward spiral into drug abuse and pain. Mycroft knew some parts of what had transpired throughout Sherlock's youth, but every time he looked at his younger brother he knew there were worse things, things Mycroft did not want to know, could not deal with. He, the British Government, was so weak when it came to his little brother.

"No sir, I am sorry."

"Better be so, Captain, because I will hold you responsible if something should happen to my brother... or John Watson. I gave Sherlock into your care, so don't you dare coming back without him. Bring him home. Safe. Unharmed. I thought I had made myself clear on that." Mycroft's knuckles were white, he had to steady himself on his desk. So tired.

"Yes, sir, very clear, sir. But... but..."

"Don't stammer, Captain! What is it?"

"We think we have located them in the mountains, an hour drive away, sir... there..." The soldier's voice stopped again and Mycroft's temper flared. It was something most people did not know: Mycroft's moods were as changing, his temper as burning hot as Sherlock's. Only that Mycroft unlike his brother had learned early in his live to control his emotions. He took a deep breath. "Speak, man", he said now more calmly.

"There had been an explosion."

Mycroft felt the earth rush towards him. The lack of sleep and the exhaustion suddenly hit him with full force. He felt a throbbing pain in his breast.

"Sir?" Mycroft was on his knees, breathing hard.

"Find him", he snapped, "find my brother or I swear Guantanamo Bay will seem to be paradise in comparison to what I will do to you!" He ended the phone call. Sweat was on his face and Mycroft touched his left breast. Not good. Not at all. Anthea was next to him, her hand on his shoulder.

"You should rest, Mycroft", she said softly, "you won't be any help if you kill yourself."

Mycroft tried to push himself up, he stumbled slightly. He knew the signs. Pain was cursing through his breast and breathing became harder every second. He let himself fall into his chair and looked at the woman who called herself Anthea at the moment.

"Your heart again?" she asked softly. She touched his cheeks, caught a drop of sweat with her thumb.

Mycroft nodded. "The pills, please..." He was shaking now. "In the desk, left side... the pills", he closed his eyes listening to the noises of the woman searching his desk. Something was pressed to his lips, small and round. He opened his mouth, swallowed. She then held a glass of water to his lips, cold, calming.

Mycroft opened his eyes again. She smiled. Something she seldom did. "Better?"

"I can't lose him", he whispered.

"I know."

"Not after all I did. We did."

"I know."

"I can't lose him, Sophia, I simply can't."

To be continued