It isn't really a triumph that he can see through Watson's lie. He's not a good liar even when his hands aren't still slightly wet from his tears. Just to be sure, though, he reaches up and lightly touches Watson's cheek, thumb brushing over the cheekbone.

Watson was crying. That cuts through Holmes's still feverish mind like the knife all over again; his leg hums in pain at the thought, but the pain of seeing Watson like this is actually worse. Even when he's fully possessed of himself, he isn't sure he'd know what to say, how to make this better.

"I'm not hallucinating anymore," he says instead, softly.