He didn't even remember how he got back to the flat. Suddenly he was there, and he was being handed a glass. The oh so familiar smell of wine and blood drifted up to his nose, and that, along with John's soft, tentative voice, brought him back, at least a bit.

Sherlock blinked a couple of times, looked over at John, and took a sip of the wine. The blood gave it an acidic, tangy, coppery taste, and he took another sip, already starting to feel a tiny bit better.

"I... I'm sorry." He said, shaking his head and lowering his eyes. "I.. just.. I wasn't expecting twins. God, we have to tell M, and your mother.. and.. William.." His voice drifted off a bit at the end.