Mycroft ran in through the front door, dropping his bag at the bottom of the stairs and leaning into Mummy's tight embrace.
"There's my big boy." Mummy chuckled softly, holding her eldest son against her and relishing the familial contact. Sherlock, even at six-years-old, rarely hugged his parents. He had become a solitary child now that Mycroft was away at Etonian, and Mummy felt sad at this lack of contact with her 'baby'.
"Mummy, it's good to see you." Mycroft leant up and placed a soft kiss on his mother's cheek, "Where is Sherlock?"
Mummy sighed and cast her eyes upwards in the direction of the bedrooms.
"He rarely comes out any more, Mycroft." She said, trying to keep her voice light and her concern hidden. "He is such a solitary little boy. I don't know how he will react to your visit." Her voice trailed off. The brothers had been so close for the first few years, with Sherlock doting on his big brother and Mycroft always having the time to play with the little boy, but now she wasn't even sure if Sherlock would speak to him.
"He's in his room, Mycroft. Please try to speak to him. It breaks my heart to imagine him so lonely."
Mycroft nodded. He'd noticed Sherlock's distance even before he had actually left to go to Eton. Sherlock clearly resented the fact that his older brother was leaving him. He only hoped that his return would be welcomed.
"Thank you, Mummy." He picked up his bag again and headed up to Sherlock's bedroom. "I shall do my best."