"Look," Sherlock sighed, resting his elbows on his knees and staring intently at the man sitting across from him. "Even assuming that suspended animation had been perfected by the year 1892, and that you somehow survived an eight hundred foot fall into a freezing cold river, there is no way that that state of suspended animation could be maintained for nearly two hundred years OR that you would not require immediate medical attention upon revival."
Holmes regarded his other self carefully, with a somewhat confused expression. Several moments passed, and it almost seemed as if the science was sinking into his brain.
"But it happened," Holmes said in rebuttal.
Sherlock screamed. He actually let out a guttural cry of frustration, and shook his hands like a child having a tantrum. He stood up and stomped around the room, jaw tight, shouting profanities at the ceiling so loud that he didn't hear the knock at the door.
Holmes answered it on the other Sherlock's behalf, and a very surprised Lestrade came into the sitting room.
"Does anyone want to let me in on this, or…?"
John noticed the new arrival from his seat in the kitchen, and jumped up. "Oh, Greg, sorry. This is, uh… Sherlock… Holmes. And that," He said, pointing to the sofa, where Sherlock had curled into a tense ball. "Is our Sherlock Holmes. Oh, and your great-granddaughter is having tea in the kitchen, if you're interested."
Lestrade looked at John for several seconds before replying. "You're on drugs, right? Sherlock's got you on them, now."
"I honestly wish that's all that's going on right now." John said.
"Take off the hat!" Sherlock screamed, getting up from the sofa and attempting to steal the offending garment from his counterpart's head. "I'm burning it! Take off the hat!"
John and Lestrade watched the following fist fight with equal parts disbelief and numbness. The other Lestrade came in at the noise, and joined them by the door. "Grandpa Greg, nice to see you," She greeted, as casually as if she'd been greeting a next-door neighbor.
They watched the carnage for a while, and Lestrade finally asked if John had a counterpart, as well.
"Yeah," He replied. "He's not here, he's -"
"His battery is run down," The female Lestrade answered.
"Oh," Greg Lestrade said. And that was all he could say.