Howard murmurs something under his breath at Sherlock's snipe, but it doesn't seem to evolve beyond generic swearing, and it's so quiet he can barely hear it himself. He screws up his face and rolls over onto his side, trying and failing to keep the pain of the headache from showing outwardly. He jerks a little as some of the blood in his ear canal starts to dribble down and catches him off-guard.

"It was kind of a big deal." You know. If you're Howard and spent your time ignoring the assassination and bombing and instead stalking John Watson.