Words meant something, they were the building blocks for genius and civilisation, why would he not recall some of the most powerful words put to paper? Shakespeare was useful in everyday life, what possible application did the earth revolving around the sun have? None. Honestly, John should be able to tell why one piece of knowledge was worth deleting and another worth saving. He contented himself with just a snort of disbelief, however, and didn't argue the point.

The cab ride and any aches or pains were soundly ignored in favour of thinking. There would be clues laid out for him to find, he was sure of it, Moriarty enjoyed their game too much to allow anything else.

"Hm?" He tilted his head to look at John - glassy eyes, pale, pinched expression - and shook his head. "Yes; you, however, have a mild to moderate concussion. Mycroft will have made sure you had some pain relief issued while sleeping, but I'm sure we could find some paracetamol somewhere."