“It would be wrong to theorize without facts, John. It could be nothing.”
“You know what it is. Your body knows. Your heart knows.” Sherlock gave John a glare made of pure cynicism, but John continued, unabated. “For Christ’s sake, Sherlock, you didn’t just shove those memories in a box, you burned them! Your feelings count. Look… if we went out for Chinese, came back home and everything was in disarray- the lamp was knocked over and the papers strewn about, and… and valuable things were missing- you would never see the burglar, but you would still damn well know something happened.”