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“Can I tell you a secret?” Sherlock’s voice was loud in the suffocating darkness. They’d been trapped in this cupboard for what felt like hours. They’d dove into it for cover from a late janitor, only to find it locked behind them. Sherlock’s mobile was dead and John had forgotten his.

“Of course,” said John, blindly taking his hand and finding it cold to the touch.

“I’ve never been overly fond of the dark.” The normally commanding voice sounded tiny. “When I was a boy I accidentally got locked in the cellar. Mycroft noticed I was missing.” He sounded put out, that Mycroft would rescue him, even then.

John squeezed his hand again, shifting in the tight space. His knee ached. “I’ve never seen stars like in Afghanistan,” he said quietly. It would light up the sky. Don’t get so many stars in London.”

“They are there, if you look,” said Sherlock.

John chuckles softly. “I know astronomy isn’t your strongest skill.”

Sherlock huffed and moved a little closer though they were already nearly on top of one another. “Tell me about the stars?” he asked.

Racking his brain, John told him everything he could think of until he felt Sherlock’s head drop onto his shoulder, breath slow. the git had fallen asleep. John put an arm around him; soldiers could sleep anywhere.

They were awakened by Lestrade’s voice. Sherlock didn’t seem quite awake yet, so John rapped on the door until it swung open to the Inspector’s worried face. He offered a hand up and John took it, limping slightly as he moved to the side.

“The GPS in my mobile,” said Sherlock.

“You’re welcome,” groused Lestrade.

Sherlock reached into his coat and pulled out some paper. “This is what we needed.”