Injured, no. Sick, very possibly. But something is wrong with you. When was the last time you slept, aside from passing out in that store? Have you even eaten anything in the past few days? What are those patches on your arm?

[The light, playful tone he's used until now is being replaced by a more serious one as he fires off the questions, stern and demanding and obviously disapproving. The sandpaper rasp of denticles against skin is almost audible as Sherlock twists his hand; Kisame only frowns more to feel just how sharply the bones stand out.]

You feel like you've been living on bread and water, if that. I don't even know where you live, you realize?