He didn't watch Howard's face, turned away from the obvious display of emotion. His fingers flexed almost compulsively at his side - an unconscious motion and one that would worry him if he noticed it. But he didn't.

"He'll send supplies once he wakes in the Capitol." Sherlock said, emotionless and stiff. "We shouldn't stay here. There are some sort of... feral creatures. I wouldn't--" But he broke off, his head going not good quietly, in John's voice. You can't just say 'don't sit next to a corpse' to a kid that's lost his friend, Sherlock. He breathed in, frowned, finally looking back at Howard.

"... We should go."