Armand couldn't sleep. It had been like this since the explosion, where any sleep he did get was fragmented and painfully short. He had rather closed himself off to everyone, ignored the boards, not done much socializing, not even with those he considered his friends. Losing his family and then losing his home was something that hit him harder than he had wanted to admit. He wasn't quite pushing everyone away, but he wasn't letting anyone in, either.
Eponine would skin him alive if she knew he had left to go for a walk. These were dangerous times in a dangerous place. He remembered the post that John had made, about how he was making everyone at the inn a target just by being there. and perhaps that demon would love to pick someone who wasn't John off to make him feel guilt. But he couldn't stay there anymore, not tonight. It was too suffocating, and there was only so much pacing he could do without feeling like a caged animal.
He had been wandering aimlessly and ended up by the cemetery. He had fully expected only to see people exiting bars out this late at night, but there was a man at the entrance, just standing there. He was almost afraid to approach him, but the closer he got he saw that it was John Watson. If it was dangerous for him to be out it was doubly so for John. He approached slowly, and stood near him but not too close. He stood there quietly for a moment, so John could realize he was there, and then he spoke. "It is perhaps not the brightest idea for either of us to be out tonight, and yet here we are," he said quietly. "I take it you also could not sleep?"