Mycroft had just settled at his office desk when his personal mobile phone rang with an 'Unknown Number'. He debated not answering it. The number was reserved for family only and an unknown number was out of the norm, but he felt compelled not to ignore it anyway.
"Mycroft Holmes." he announced, picking up his pen and flipping over to a blank page in his notebook, just in case.
Someone at the other end of the line cleared their throat nervously, and Mycroft rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.
"Mr Holmes." a male voice began, taking a deep breath before continuing, "Brother of Mr Sherlock Holmes?"
Mycroft sat straight up again, paying full attention at the mention of his brother's name.
"Correct." he responded, deliberately outwardly calm whilst feeling anything but on the inside.
"Detective Gregory Lestrade." the voice continued, "We have your brother here at the station. We found him..." Lestrade paused, trying to decide how to phrase the next piece of information, "There was a drugs bust. We found him high in the drug den. He seems OK now. We've had a doctor check him over, but he asked that we call you. You can come and collect him, Mr Holmes... if you want to, that is." Lestrade wasn't sure how the Holmes family dynamics worked. Maybe his brother wouldn't want anything to do with the nineteen-year-old in this state.
Mycroft sighed. He had failed his brother again. He knew it was only a matter of time before his brother got himself into trouble. Mycroft had tried helping him to come off the drugs, but the process was more than he alone could handle. Perhaps they needed to take a different approach.
"I shall be there in 30 minutes, Detective."