[Mycroft's blood ran cold, his stomach twisting into knots. That old familiar feeling of not being in control, a feeling he loathed with every fiber of his being, which was a big reason why he insisted on controlling everything else he could get his hands on.

The thought of all that happening to Sherlock was intolerable. For all of Mycroft's faults, the one thing he cared most about--despite caring not being an advantage--was keeping Sherlock safe. And safe from himself.

Which apparently was possibly going to be difficult here.

There's a...long pause before he speaks again. He's clearly disturbed.]

Noted, Doctor Watson.