28. Time To Come Home, Brother Dear!

I. Prepare for the War

„Myc, Myc!" – Shouted Q as he was running towards Holmes Manor, having just jumped out of 004's Ferrari he had used to race here as soon as possible. He'd worry about any rules he had broken with his frantic stunt driving later. – „Myc!" – He screamed again while rushing upstairs to Mycroft's bedroom.

Mycroft hurried to meet him at the top of the stairs in full panic mode.

"Jesus, Benedict, what happened? Is something wrong?"

"Yes!" – Panted the boy, holding his side in pain. – "Something is very wrong!"

"Are you feeling sick? Is it maybe your appendix?"

"My what?" – The boy was totally confused. What was his idiotic brother talking about?

"You're holding your side! I'll call an ambulance! I---"

"It's not me, it's Sherlock! He's been captured!"

The oldest brother stopped halfway back to his bedroom where he had most probably wanted to grab his cell from, and turned around towards the boy in alarm.

"Oh my God! How? Where? Tell me everything!"

"He... he... Oh, Myc!" – He burst out in tears but angrily wiped his eyes immediately afterwards. It was not the time for childish hysterical outbursts! He squared his shoulders and continued: – "He is in Serbia. He killed two members of Moriarty's web but three others came and he couldn't take them all at once... They got him, Myc!"

"Damn."

"I was in his ear the whole time. I tried to warn him but he wouldn't listen... Oh, God. They won't kill him for a while, that's sure, because they want to question him. They know he's had help but they don't know how... That's what they're asking him all the time. How he has done it all these last few months. They know about everything and seem to have been waiting for him. He has been set up, Myc."

"Can you still communicate with him?"

"No, I lost connection around a quarter of an hour ago. I think the equipment might be damaged by... water... they used to question him." – He explained with self-loathing. His gadgets had betrayed him!

"Benedict, listen to me. It's not your fault, you hear?"

"But I---" – Mycroft grabbed his narrow shoulders and shook him hard.

"No, silly little boy, pay attention to what I am saying: you have done more than anyone would ever have expected; more than anyone could have done or even hoped for. You helped Sherlock through 8 countries and countless missions for over four months. We always knew there was a risk and it's not your fault! But I'll need your help rescuing him and we can't afford for you to fall to pieces right now."

Q knew very well his brother was right. He was a professional for God's sake, what the hell was wrong with him? He was the Quartermaster of MI6, had done this numerous times and he needed to behave accordingly, damn it!

"Yes, yes, you're right of course, I'm sorry. I'll do anything in my power to help him. And you."

Mycroft nodded before releasing him then took a deep breath.

"Can we count on some help from the local authorities?"

"Yes, of course, it's no problem. I have contacts by their secret agency. I'll arrange it."

"I'm also going to travel there. I want to be the one bringing him out personally."

"What!? Why? Forget it, there are people trained for exactly that! I'll make a few calls right away..." – He wanted to leave but his brother grabbed his arm, jerking him back with one firm movement. Q was still small and light enough to be manhandled easily that way but that didn't mean he appreciated the treatment!