Mycroft was reading the newspaper, his bandaged wrists getting in the way slightly. He felt quite content, surprisingly. Sherlock was safe with the Watson's. Everything was going to be fine. But there was a gnawing sense of doubt at the bottom of his stomach, not quite believing it. He looked up at a knock on the door, and saw his social worker, Mandy. Mycroft thought she was pretty.
"Heya Mycroft" she said.
"How are you this evening?" She asked sympathetically.
"Good, actually, thanks."
"I'm glad. I have some news for you."
"Good news?" He bit his lip.
"The council thinks so. I don't know... Your father has started fighting for you. We sent Sherlock home this morning."
"What?" He didn't understand. Perhaps he'd misunderstood.
"Sherlock is back at home."
"No. No, you can't!"
"I'm afraid that social services have also seen fit to reduce your contact hours with your brother. You get to see each other, for an hour every Sunday, at one of our contact centres."
"No! You can't do any of that! You can't stop me seeing him! You can't send him home, he'll be in danger!"
"There was no evidence that he had ever been abused.”
"Because I protected him!"
"Your father is a very influential man, Mycroft. We didn’t have any other options."
"He was never hurt because I was there to stop Father, and I could take it all for him! And you put him back there on his own? What the hell are you lot playing at!" He tried to get out of bed, but she placed a small hand on his sternum.
"I'm sorry My. But that's the way it is. If it doesn't work out, we can start the process again, get him out as soon as possible."
"That's not good enough! Right now, he could be.... Oh shit oh shit oh shit." Mycroft pushed the heels of his bandaged hands into his eyes, trying to push away images of his father doing things to his baby brother.
"Calm down My." She said soothingly, glancing up at his quickening heart rate.
"I will not calm down! He's in danger, don't you realise that! I worked so hard, all his life, to keep him safe, and now you just put him back there, alone!"
"It will be okay, just calm down" Mycroft was hyperventilating, his heart rate still rising.
"It won't be okay! You can't even begin to imagine how not okay this is. He's alone there with him. Father is angry with me, for letting us be taken away. He hasn't... done anything for almost a month. You have no idea what could be happening. If he's hurt... If he dies, it's on your head! I warned you! You didn't listen, and now you've put a little boy in danger!”