Greg watched as Sherlock came to again and looked around has Moriarty talked to Lestrade. His movements seemed painfully slow and when Greg managed to catch a glimpse of his face, because he was really trying not to take his eyes off the madman, he was shocked to see him so tired and beaten. And he was surprised that his presence seemed to be so astonishing to the other man. Greg could see very well that the man might not stay conscious for much longer and wondered how many bruises were hidden by his clothes when he was the blodd-dripping gash on his arm. He gritted his teeth and turned back to Moriarty.

"Can you hold on for a little longer, Sherlock?" Greg asked, while his eyes were fixed on every movement of the madman as he slowly crept forward a little. He wished he could get closer to Sherlock, but that would mean getting closer to Moriarty as well and he didn't trust the damn bastard, who was, judging by his expression, having way too much fun with all of this. A game, Lestrade was reminded by that grin, all of this was just a came to keep him from being bored. 

"Reinforcements are on their way. If you run now, you might still make it before thise warehouse is crawling with the likes of me." he bluffed with his face its usual annoyed mask, but feeling really, really supid, because he was so sure both of the other man would see right through it. He couldn't think of anything else to say though. Had he expected to just come and free Sherlock? Moriarty had said he had to be here in thirty minutes or Sherlock would die, what happened once he was there had never even been hinted at.