Disclaimer – characters and setting as depicted in the BBC series not mine. No money being made. Plot is mine.

AN – so now that the boys on Sherlock BBC have definitively named Lestrade 'Greg' (ACD only ever gave a first initial of G to DI Lestrade, so I chose Geoffrey instead), Lestrade's name is technically wrong in all my fics. I can either – go back and re-edit them all (NOT), or grit my teeth and put up with it (I choose that one). If you can't live with the dissonance… have a couple of glasses of something alcoholic. Eventually you'll see it my way. (lol)

Warning – final in the Magic!John series. Don't panic. Stay calm and believe in Sherlock.

Prophecy

Sherlock clipped down the stairs of the crime scene, tossing deductions over his shoulder as he went. A glance in the glass of the storefront opposite showed that Lestrade was following along behind, his hands in his pockets.

"… and shouldn't you be writing this down?" Sherlock tossed the last comment over his shoulder and turned to be met with a world weary grin.

"I don't think I should be wielding pointy objects in your presence at the moment, Sherlock," Lestrade replied, his tone indicating exasperation and amusement in almost equal parts. Sherlock flashed a bright grin at the DI, delighted. Geoff was teasing him in a Good way – something that had never happened Before John. After John it was a more common occurrence, yet another example of the benefits of having John in his life.

Before he could respond with an equally teasing remark their phones chimed with what Sherlock had mentally come to call 'John's sound'. Sherlock had, back in the days that they were only flatmates, programmed his phone to use a particular sound when John texted or called. He'd hacked into Lestrade's phone a few months ago and programmed it with the same sound as well as a code that would alert him if the DI tried to change it. So far, he hadn't.

They pulled their phones out, Geoff frowning already, and opened the message. It was a single word, but one that galvanised them to instant movement.

'Hide'

Instinct told him that this wasn't a message from John, per se, but the Mage of London. His lover should have been working at his ER this morning, not sending them cryptic texts, but Sherlock trusted John completely and without thinking twice about it he turned and walked away from the promising crime scene, its details already fading from his mind. Geoff was at his shoulder and to the casual observer it would have seemed that they were merely walking the perimeter of the scene, looking for something.

It was a moment's work to step into the shadows of the next building and cut through the alley, heading for the nearest public building or transport platform they could find.

John had once told both men that public buildings such as libraries, train stations, court houses, hospitals and to a lesser extent shopping malls were warded in such a way as to be neutral ground to the magic world. The more official the public building the better, which was why malls didn't work too well, but if a practitioner was seeking to meet on neutral ground a public building was almost always chosen. John had cautioned against choosing museums as it was likely that artefacts useful in the practice of magic would be present and had warned that art galleries were often 'grey areas' when it came to being in the public domain.

The Underground was only a block away and both men headed for it at a steady pace, neither hurrying or dallying. Sherlock was working his phone, trying to pull the reason for the Mage of London to send them into hiding from the ether. They passed through the ticket barriers without challenge and Lestrade pushed Sherlock into a carriage and onto a seat before sitting beside him, hemming him neatly into a corner. It was a sound strategy – Sherlock knew he'd be off and out of the train at the slightest provocation, heedless of danger. Lestrade's action was… Good: John would be irate if Sherlock hurt himself.

"Breaking news," Sherlock muttered in complete annoyance, "Come on, that is at least ten minutes ago. What is happening now?"

Lestrade had his own phone out, a glance showed he was checking the incident updates from the Yard. Sherlock glared at the page he was refreshing and made a note to complain to Mycroft about the slowness of his news reports.

"There's been some sort of incident at an inner city ER," Geoff said suddenly and Sherlock's heart stuttered for a moment, "No clear details as the initial response is just going in, but there were reports of some sort of explosion and masked men."

John would be furious. He took medicine very seriously and had no time for those that endangered the patients under his care.

"Sherlock, has John said anything about being in danger?" Geoff asked, "Or have you noticed anything?"

"No to both questions," Sherlock scowled, "He's been normal, just John. We're not under any sort of surveillance beyond the usual and he hasn't mentioned any you-know-what troubles. Truth be told we've been avoiding that sort of thing for a while, after my recent stupidity."

Stupidity that had seen Sherlock totally over-react to John disappearing to deal with Moriarty and throwing his lover out. John had gone, much to Mycroft's delight and Sherlock had instantly panicked. In the end, Mycroft had grudgingly fetched John back to Baker Street. John had forgiven Sherlock, but the thin genius was well aware that he had stepped over the boundaries with his behaviour. He'd privately and publicly vowed never to do that again. John had accepted his promise, but had ceased to mention or practice his magic in the flat, which Sherlock saw as an indicator of how badly he'd hurt his lover. He longed for the Mage to return to residence in Baker Street but knew that would not occur until John once more felt wholly accepted. It had been months now and Sherlock was beginning to wonder if he'd ever manage it.

"It turns out that I'm a bit rubbish at reassuring John," Sherlock added awkwardly, knowing that Geoff continued in his once-a-week pint with his lover and the topic may have been discussed.

"I see," Geoff shifted uncomfortably and refreshed his phone, "Damn, it's been upgraded to a r… here."

Sherlock accepted the phone and glanced over it quickly. A riot had apparently broken out at John's ER – something that was not to be announced in public on the Tube. A glance at the map over the door showed that they were on the wrong part of the Circle line to get off and get to John and he frowned.

"We need to get to him," Sherlock announced, "He'll still be there, defending his patients."

"We need to stay where we are," Geoff disagreed and latched his handcuffs over Sherlock's wrist, joining them together with Mage blessed metal, "He told us to get lost, Sherlock. He had his reasons. John will find us when he can."

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