Lestrade attended Sherlock's funeral dressed in his best black suit. He didn't bring any flowers; Sherlock hadn't been a man to appreciate flowers unless they were a clue in a difficult case. Oddly enough, considering the fact that Sherlock hadn't been the most loved of men, many people showed up for his funeral. A few of the people Greg knew, like John, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and a couple of others, but most of the guests seemed to be people who had been involved with the consulting detective through some case or another (Henry from the Baskerville case was there, among others Lestrade did not recognize). There was one man there who was tall and vaguely angular like Holmes had been, he had the same impenetrable face the Sherlock had sported whenever he was bored or tired. Greg assumed that he was Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's elder and apparently colder, smarter brother.
When Greg saw John's face he nearly lost it. The poor doctor looked exhausted and in pain, his face had the look of a broken man and he held a cane in his hand. John's face had a few more lines in it then he remembered and the guilt that Greg felt was overwhelming.
Lestrade had already spoken to John after Sherlock's death and he had confessed that he felt that he was to blame for the sudden death. John had looked up at Greg and answered that nobody could know Sherlock's reasons, but that he believed there was an ulterior trigger for Sherlock's suicide than the claims of fraud and attempts at arrest.
"I cannot, and will not believe that my best friend was a lie." John had said with the passion and conviction of a man set on an idea.
The Detective Inspector had quietly agreed with the Doctor on the point that Sherlock was not a fraud, but he couldn't very well say that he felt that he had attempted to arrest an innocent man, twice.
Then the Doctor gave his eulogy and Mrs. Hudson was crying, Mycroft impassive, many people looking upset but not overly sad, John retaining the discipline of the army with a stiff body, impenetrable face, and no tears (yet). Lestrade himself was getting a little teary eyed after everything that John had said, from Sherlock's good points, to his many flaws, and he had to close his eyes for a moment to forget that he was at the funeral of an unlikely friend. And Sherlock had been an unlikely friend, Greg and Sherlock had nothing in common save their interest in solving crimes.
It was time to get back to the real world of solving crimes without a genius to assist him.