"What's your point?"
Such an innocent question. How Lestrade wishes he could take those damned words back.
"You know my point, you just don't want to think about it."
He doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't want to think about the ease of Sherlock's deductions, how quick everything comes together at his words, how obvious.
"You can't kill an idea can you? Not once it's made a home... there."
Maybe if Sherlock had come-
No. This was done.
He still makes the call.
He knows that should Sherlock and John run, and their phone logs are pulled, Lestrade's number will be clear, timestamp marking the moments right before the officers arrived to take him in. Aiding and abetting. Lestrade only hopes he gave them enough time.
Of course, they didn't run. At least not just then.
"Sherlock Holmes, I'm arresting you on suspicion of abduction and kidnapping."
He still has a job to do.
He reads Sherlock his rights, he has to be the one to do it. Has to be the one who looks Sherlock in the eye, he's doing the betraying here, after all. He ensures that the person cuffing Sherlock isn't Donovan, gets someone, anyone else, to do it. Lestrade isn't going to give her, or Anderson or the CS, anymore satisfaction than they will have watching Sherlock bundled into a police car, handcuffed.
John tries to talk to him, Lestrade can't even hear what he is saying as Sherlock's arms are brought down, one cuff locked in, then the other.
"Don't try to interfere, or I shall arrest you too."
It's a plea. Begging John to leave it, stay on the outside so that they can help Sherlock through this, whatever kind of mess this is. Sherlock will need John, and John won't be of any help behind bars. Of course, that all goes to hell when John breaks the Chief Superintendent's nose. All of Lestrade's PR training goes into not laughing uproariously at that. All of it. But there's still Sherlock and John, up against police cars. Handcuffed. That helps with the not laughing bit.
He spares a moment of dismay to think of Mycroft's utter displeasure at Lestrade arresting his younger brother. The moment is interrupted when Sherlock escapes custody after threatening everyone with a bloody gun.
Lestrade buries his head in his hands, and counts off the mounting charges against Sherlock, and now John, in his head. He adds another when Sherlock apparently takes John hostage and flees the scene.
He keeps to a slow walk when his boss orders him chase after Sherlock.
When he gets back to the Yard, he starts to call Mrs. Hudson to apologize for the night's events but thinks better of it. It'll be better done when he is returning Sherlock to 221B, safe and free of all- most charges (not even Lestrade can spin threatening Yarders at gunpoint, Mycroft will have to take that one).
He texts Mycroft, who doesn't respond, the posh sod.
He doesn't send officers to Bart's when the search for the fugitive, Sherlock Holmes, begins.
When the news comes, it is Donovan who tells him; a light knock to his office door, and she slides in, voice low and careful, eyes avoiding his. Lestrade watches her face after, looking for any sign of glee or happiness. There isn't any.
The funeral service ages him. He can feel his bones resist all movement as he, and John, and Mycroft, and some others whose lives Sherlock touched, carry the coffin.
He holds Mrs. Hudson against him as the coffin is lowered into the ground, keeping an eye on John whose left hand trembles, and Mycroft whose face remains impassive as he holds his mother's hand.
The expected investigation is launched into what might as well be most of his career as a DI at the Yard. Lestrade isn't as sad about his reputation as he is devastated about Sherlock's, about the guilty who might be set free, about the victims whose justice may be stolen. He hands in his resignation a few months later and walks out of the Yard and on his career, sad but sure.
He isn't surprised when the black car stops in front of him and the rear door facing him opens.
He gets in. He chose a side a long time ago.