Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, its characters, settings etc. all of which belong to BBC / Steve Moffat & Mark Gatiss and were originally created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

The Scream?

Lestrade hung up with a sigh after giving his warning that half of Scotland Yard were on their way to Baker Street. He reckoned it was the least he could do after trying to pull Sherlock in for questioning earlier.

He wasn't even sure why he'd bowed to the pressure from Donovan and Anderson and their ridiculous speculation. Greg really didn't believe Sherlock had anything to do with the kidnapping - he'd seen too much of the man's ability in non-crime-related moments to even consider the thought that he was a fraud. Seriously consider it, that is. He would never admit to anyone that he'd been struck by a brief moment of 'what if?' before his brain managed to catch up with the situation and remind him what he'd seen Sherlock do, and what the genius had deduced about him personally. But his spilt second of doubt, uncomfortable as it was, was not the big issue at that point.

No, the real problem was proving it to his both subordinates and superiors. At the moment, everyone else at the Yard was all too happy to believe Donovan's theory because it suited their petty urge for revenge against the man who kept embarrassing them and putting them down. The whole situation had escalated so fast – and now the Chief Superintendent was involved too. If only Sherlock had come with him to the Yard earlier, he could have proved himself in five minutes or less and be on his way home again by now.

Again, not the point.

But there was something they were missing – Greg wasn't sure what it was, maybe he'd spent too much time watching Sherlock at work and it was making him overly suspicious about taking anything at face value, but something just didn't add up about the whole scenario.

He paused for a moment en route to his car, took a deep breath and quickly ran through the sequence of events in his head – the disappearance, examining the rooms, the clues in the footprint, finding the children, the scream…

The scream…

Yes, that was the problem! If Sherlock was the kidnapper, why on earth did he insist on showing himself to his victim? He would have known how she would react, and he could have avoided the situation very easily by discounting her as an unreliable witness in his usual condescending manner. But instead he'd gone into that room with her on purpose – an incredibly obvious, stupid mistake if he was the culprit.

And if he really was that unintelligent, how could he have been able to pull off the same stunt for all these years, as Anderson was suggesting? Keeping that up would have needed more than just planting some evidence, giving some carefully memorised monologues and enjoying the ego-boosting response.

It just didn't add up, thought Lestrade as he drove to Baker Street in silence, ignoring Donovan's I-told-you-so rant. The man couldn't be both brilliant enough to scam them all and stupid enough to get caught by his own victim. And even if this was the only time Sherlock had pulled this trick, it was still an unbelievably silly mistake that someone as clever as him would never make.

Greg shook his head. No wonder Sherlock kept complaining about people choosing to ignore evidence that didn't support the solution they liked.

And there was another problem with this theory – motive. Donovan seemed to think Sherlock lived for showing off and impressing people with his deductions, but Greg knew that the genius needed more than just idle flattery. More than simple compliments, what Sherlock's ego required was to prove that he was right. And Lestrade had a feeling that the man's arrogance meant he didn't really need to prove it to anyone but himself.

So how would he get a kick out of 'solving' something when he already knew he had the correct answer? That's about as much fun as when someone tells you they let you win. Not much of a victory in the end.

Lestrade looked up at 221B Baker Street with another sigh as he got out of the car. Donovan started banging on the door and he suddenly wondered if it had been such a good idea to warn them that they were on their way. He really hoped Sherlock hadn't done something reckless like making a run for it, which would only make things worse.

Still, he didn't really regret making that phone call. He had to do something to show them he was still on their side, even though he would need to make a public show of going by the book. Which wasn't going to be friendly and could get more than a little ugly.

But he didn't have a choice.

Greg was about to make one of the most difficult arrests of his career, and he had no idea how this was going to turn out. But when the dust settled, he just hoped that maybe one day Sherlock would count him a friend again. If he ever had considered him that...

After telling John to back off as nicely as he could, he went up the familiar stairs in silence, ignoring the indignant babble around him and wishing this could be all over.

Now, if only Sherlock would come quietly...