He wonders dimly if he's sick, deduces that he probably is, and decides he doesn't really care, though he knows that Watson will care; he can hear it already in Watson's voice, all that caring, and Holmes isn't in the mood for it. He sighs impatiently through his nose and tugs the blanket tighter around him; he keeps his eyes shut, but doesn't flinch away from Watson's touch.

"No. Is that sufficient talking?" he says, and his teeth chatter traitorously as he finishes; he clenches his jaw tightly and burrows further into his chair, and he turns his head away from Watson.