At the signal, Lestrade brings his boys into the house. The shot had worried him, but then they'd all known that was going to happen. Not that Holmes had told him, but the irritating man had probably known he'd stop by to talk to Mrs. Hudson and find out that way. He's glad to hear the whistle, though, to rush in now, as much to put in darbies the man that would try to kill Watson as to see...

Sherlock Holmes. Alive.

Lestrade has the good grace to come in the room and step to the side as his boys rush around the man on the floor and start restraining him. They're twisting around to stare too, though, because this is Sherlock Holmes. It's hard to see in the poor light that comes in from the window, but it's definitely him.

Lestrade bites the inside of his cheek so as to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing onto him, just to make sure he's real.

"That you, Lestrade?" Holmes asks, and Lestrade almost smirks to himself that he isn't the only one who needs a little verification here.

"It's me alright, Holmes. You think I'd send anyone else?"

Though Holmes being back is something to be marveled at, Lestrade has his head about him. He turns his focus on Watson, wonders how he's handling this, and when he asks, "You alright?" it's as much about the man on the floor as it is about everything else.