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We’d emailed him the video of my chat with Sherlock the night before, so he’d have had plenty of time to study it. I was just praying that he could find a clue or a hint or something, anything, that would let him charge in with the Light Brigade and rescue Sherlock. I didn’t care if it bruised Sherlock’s ego to get rescued by his brother. I didn’t care if Mycroft had to carry him out over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I just wanted him home. Period.
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on 2012-12-19 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2012-12-22 04:00 am (UTC)