AN: Yo, heads up as that injury comes into play this chapter. (predictably _ ) Also, warning for a panic attack/traumatic flashback in the later half of the chapter. If this is a problem skip from "excuse me" to "you really are retired" for the worst of that. It's not terribly detailed, but just in case.
*o*o*
By the time they reached the crash site, Kid was barely conscious. Saguru felt panic and horror whirling through him at the crumpled glider frame and the blood spattered around Kid, staining his white suit red. He felt sure that one leg had an open compound fracture from the swiftly spreading red stain. For one horrible moment, Saguru's mind refused to function and he stood frozen among the rubbish bins. Then Kid groaned and Takumi at Saguru's side took in a sharp breath. Cold, distant analysis took over, pushing emotion aside into a panicked bubble in the back of his mind. There wasn't time to panic.
Saguru strode forward, looking Kid over. There were bullet wounds on Kid's shoulder and arm, torn cloth indicating grazes, and holes without blood on Kid's chest where he must have a Kevlar vest under the layers of his suit. Upon closer inspection, the wound on Kid's leg was another bullet wound, but the leg was twisted in a way that meant possible sprain or damaged ligaments if not worse. Remarkably, the bullet wounds appeared to be the worst damage, but there were scrapes along Kid's right arm and shoulder where he must have tried to roll, and his hip from stopping the momentum. He crouched in front of Kid's face as he twitched, struggling to try and move. Kid still had the latex mask of his disguise on, the mangled remains of the monocle somehow still clinging to his face. His eyes fought to focus on Saguru.
"You're injured," Saguru said, one hand reaching out in a calming gesture. "Please, don't try to move."
If Kid understood, Saguru couldn't tell. Regardless, it didn't matter as seconds after, Kid went limp, slipping into unconsciousness. Damn, he was losing too much blood. There was no real way to be gentle as Saguru released the damaged glider and carefully moved Kid away from the wreckage.
"Shit," Takumi whimpered from near the bins. "Shit. He's dead. Is he dead? Shit."
"Takumi!" Saguru snapped, hoping his tone would be enough to jar Takumi out of his shock. "I could use your help." He'd found Kid's razor card gun and opened it to get at the cards. He had a feeling he had broken the spring mechanism in the process, but it couldn't be helped. He cut fabric away from Kid's leg as it was the easiest to treat first, propping it up against the remains of the glider while he worked. He could hear Takumi stagger closer.
"Wh-what do you need me to—"
"Search Kid's pockets," Saguru said, using Kid's pant leg to apply pressure to the bleeding wound. It was a through and through wound, but the rate of bleeding was worryingly more than the shoulder or arm wound. Please don't be an artery, he thought. "I'll need any scarves, bandages, or other clean cloth you can find."
"R-right."
Saguru checked the bleeding. It might be slowing, but he wasn't sure and there was no time. Aoko and the task force could find the trail at any moment and Kid had too many wounds for one set of hands.
"Here's a scarf…"
Saguru snatched it from Takumi's hands, using it to better add pressure to the wound. "Swap with me," he said, already running through what needed to be done. "I need you to keep pressure on his leg wound while I deal with his arm." He looked away from the red slowly staining through layers of cloth into Takumi's ashen face. Takumi's hands were shaking against Kid's chest, a scarf and tie in his hands and a bag of cotton balls that Kid might use to apply or remove makeup on the fly. He looked like he might faint.
"I can't…" Takumi trailed off, eyes fixed on the blood.
Saguru moved into his line of vision, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Takumi-kun. You can do this. Please, just hold pressure on the wound. That's all I'm asking."
"Shouldn't we be calling an ambulance? I'm not…we're not…" His breath came fast, but Takumi was moving to do what Saguru asked, passing the items he had found to Saguru as his hands covered Saguru's makeshift bandaging.
"We can't," Saguru said, voice flat as he moved to cut Kid's arm free. There had to be more than just what Takumi had found to use…ah, a dark shirt and a knit cap rolled tight. Kid's inconspicuous change of clothes.
"But he's…"
"If he goes to a hospital like this, he'll be arrested."
Takumi made a soft, choked sound. "Shouldn't he be arrested?!" he asked, too loud, voice wavering an octave higher than normal. "He's Kid, master thief with hundreds of crimes to his name! I thought you were a detective! I thought you—"
"If Kid goes to a hospital, if he is arrested and his identity is learned, he will die," Saguru said tightly. He went to work on Kid's arm and shoulder, but the shoulder wasn't clean through and there was only so much he could do… "Think. He was shot tonight. If he were at a hospital, how much easier would it be for whoever is targeting him to finish him off?"
"Shit," Takumi said under his breath again.
Saguru tied the compression bandages as best he could, bent over to listen to Kid's breathing. It was faint, but clear, no rasp from potential punctured lung, though Saguru wasn't discounting the possibility of broken ribs. It was better not to remove the Kevlar yet for that very reason; it was likely supporting Kid's torso from any injuries the crash might have made.
"If we aren't taking him to a hospital, then what?" Takumi asked. Saguru looked back at the bandaged leg and tried to calculate if there was more or less blood than there should be, but he couldn't tell.
There was no way they would be able to carry Kid from here on their own, not with Saguru's bad leg and the severity of Kid's wounds. Not with the task force still searching, and definitely not with the sniper responsible potentially still on the prowl. Think. They were near Beika, too far to use Saguru's family resources, too far to call anyone Takumi might trust, but…
Saguru dived back into Kid's suit jacket, pawing through Kid's hidden pockets. Smoke pellets and razor cards and harmless magic tricks scattered. Sleeping gas, flowers, lock picks and listening devices—there! He emerged with a cellphone clasped in bloodstained fingers. It was locked, but Saguru knew Kid, knew Kuroba better than most. It only took two tried to enter the correct pin before he scrolled down through Kid's contacts. They were inside references; Aoko was Naginata, Saguru's own number appearing under Beekeeper, a reference to Holmes' retirement. Saguru found what was hopefully the number he wanted under Biggest Critic, the area code indicating a Beika number.
It rang twice before someone picked up.
"Is this Kudo-san?" Saguru demanded, skipping any social niceties.
A pause, then, "Who is asking?"
"Hakuba Saguru, calling from Kaitou Kid's cellphone," Saguru said, sure from the suspicious tone that it was Kudo. He didn't know what to think of Kudo, but he knew Kuroba must like him and trust him to some extent. Kuroba didn't acknowledge just anyone's birthday, let alone leave a gift in his alter ego's name.
"Hakuba?!" Sputtered Kudo on the other end.
Saguru let out a frustrated sound. His free hand rested on Kid's neck, feeling his pulse—it was still too fast and a bit uneven, and those were not good signs at all. "I know you're still at the heist," Saguru said. Kudo could have his moment of surprise when he could damn well afford one. "Kid is injured," he said bluntly. "Multiple gunshot wounds and unknown amounts of injuries from a glider crash. For reasons you surely can intuit, it is not possible to bring him professional medical care. I am not equipped to provide such, or even to move him, and you are the closest contact in Kid's phone who might have a way to provide aid."
"…Where are you?"
"Behind an office building three blocks east of the heist location." Saguru scanned the area. "There is a newspaper office adjacent to it, and what appears to be a restaurant sharing its work parking lot."
"I'll be there soon," Kudo said with the same serious focus Saguru felt. "Do you need me to stay on the line?"
"No, it's better if I have two hands free at the moment. Please be quick. I am uncertain how long we will go unnoticed by the task force, or worse, the people targeting Kid." Anyone could walk by at any moment. Saguru didn't care how Kudo managed to get through the mob at the heist, he just needed to get there.
"I'll try to make it there in less than ten minutes; it's not too far."
"Thank you." Saguru dropped the phone, not bothering to hang it up. It landed on the edge of Kid's suitcoat where it had been pulled open to reach pockets and tend wounds.
He checked Kid's breathing, found it unchanged, before probing gently at Kid's head for possible head injuries. His first priority had been to stop the bleeding as much as possible, but there was a good chance of concussion or worse from this sort of a crash. Kuroba had the luck of the gods though, because from what Saguru could feel, there were no lumps, swelling or contusions, just scrapes from the forced stop where the mask had ripped away.
"Is he going to live?" Takumi asked softly. He watched as Saguru checked Kid over more carefully now, noting the scrapes and bruises, the potentially dislocated shoulder, figuring out what had taken the brunt of the crash. Takumi was still pale, but he looked less panicky than he had a few minutes ago. His hands were also stained with blood where it was seeping through on Kid's leg.
Saguru pushed down that observation as he had the observation of his own bloody hands. "I am unsure," he said truthfully. "These are not minor injuries, though they could have been far worse. It will depend on what medical care Kudo-san can provide, and on Kid himself." Kuroba was stubborn. He'd cling to life with his whole will, Saguru was sure. "All we can do now is try to keep him from dying faster."
Takumi swallowed and nodded.
"Is the bleeding slowing?" Saguru asked, checking the bandages of the other gunshot wounds—still bleeding, but slower.
"…Maybe?" Takumi sounded a bit too unsure for Saguru's liking. He moved around to look for himself. Ah. Slowing, but not as fast as Saguru would have liked, even with having Kid's leg elevated.
"Keep putting pressure on it," Saguru said. "You're doing well."
"I don't feel like I'm doing well," Takumi said. "I feel like I'm sitting watching him die. I don't even know who he is, but I'm going to end up watching some guy die and it's Kid, but Kid's a person and there have to be people wondering where he is, or people he knows when he's not Kid and—"
"It'll be okay," Saguru cut in. "Take a breath and let it out slowly. In. Out. In. Out. Okay?"
"Yes."
The air smelled thickly of Kid's blood. He was blocking it out for the most part, but Saguru could feel the scent testing the edges of his focus and calm. He went back to putting pressure on Kid's shoulder wound and keeping track of Kid's pulse. Still well within the realms of strong. Good.
It was an indefinite amount of time later—no, not indefinite, eleven minutes at least according to Kid's cell phone screen, though it felt like an eternity—there was the crunch of gravel in rubber tires as a car inched its way into the narrow drive. Saguru was momentarily blinded by headlights before a car door snapped open and Kuroba's doppelganger stepped out of the driver's side. A half beat behind him, a woman exited the other side, her light brown hair cut in a short bob. Saguru had seen pictures of Kudo before, but he had never given his resemblance to Kuroba much thought. They could have been brothers or cousins.
"Shit," Kudo said upon seeing the scene. His eyes flicked to the glider and the blood spatters, clearly calculating trajectories. "Haibara?"
"I have the sheets to use as a stretcher, but it's going to be hard to get him into the car and all of us fit," the woman said. She had a detached focus in how she surveyed things, narrowing in on the worst of Kid's injuries. "How much blood has he lost?"
"Too much," Saguru muttered, fingers still on Kid's pulse. "He's still bleeding more than he should be on his leg."
"Tourniquet?"
"Not at the moment, no. I had hoped it would slow on its own," Saguru said. While he didn't want Kid to bleed out, he also didn't want to run the risk of him losing a limb if Saguru ended up tying the tourniquet too tightly.
"If it isn't slowing, we might have to take that route. Injuries?" The woman, Haibara, moved forward, snapping gloves in place. She moved to Kid's head first, checking his eyes.
"Gunshot wounds in his left shoulder, upper arm, and lower left leg. Potential bruised or broken ribs from further bullet shots blocked by Kevlar," Saguru listed. "There's a chance of further damaged ribs from the crash. Sever bruising and scrapes along Kid's right side from impact during the crash. Possible dislocation in his right shoulder and in his legs. I'm uncertain the extent of the damage or if he has internal bleeding."
"I'm going to need help moving him," Haibara said, now moving Saguru's hands away to check Kid's pulse and eyes. She tsked. "It looks like he has at least a minor concussion. I can't say how bad yet. Kudo."
"I have the sheets," Kudo said, laying them down beside Kid.
"Kudo, you have his torso. Try to reach under if you can—his shoulders need to be moved as little as possible." Haibara moved around to Kid's legs. "Help me with his legs," she said to Takumi. "Hakuba-san, can you help support his hips?"
Saguru moved to stand only to find his bad leg give out on him. He looked at it dumbly for a moment before he pulled himself together. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."
"Are you injured too?" Haibara asked sharply, her eyes roving over the blood on him and where it had stained his knees from kneeling by Kid's side.
"No, it's an old injury."
She nodded once and turned back to ordering Kudo and Takumi. With a burst of effort, they moved Kid onto the sheets, and then lifted, the cloth bearing his weight more gently than hands could do. Saguru felt useless, trapped half-kneeling on the ground with a leg that refused to work. He couldn't feel his knee, or the lower half of his leg really, any initial discomfort leading to this stage having been lost to focus. He steeled himself and managed to haul himself up using one of the rubbish bins, though he still couldn't use his bad knee.
The car door banged shut on the passenger side, Kid tucked inside it. Saguru glanced at the mangled glider and the mess of blood behind them. It was evidence, evidence that could get Kuroba in trouble and—
"I'll send a friend to clean it," Kudo said, appearing at Saguru's side. "Right now he needs more help just staying alive than worrying about future fallout."
"Of course," Saguru said. He took the offered hand automatically, leaning weight on Kudo to reach the car. Takumi stood outside it, wide eyed and pale.
"We'll fit," Haibara said, seeing him eye Kid's reclined seat and the two and a half seats in the back that it cut into.
They did—barely. Takumi was half wiggled under Kid's seat and half in Saguru's lap in a painful contortion for both of them with Haibara squished against the door, but they fit. Kudo drove just above the speed limit until they reached a manor house that Saguru guessed was his home. Getting Kid out of the car proved more difficult than getting him in had been, jarring him against the side of the car.
He came to for a moment, eyes fluttering without opening and a deep, pained groan pulled from his chest as they finally carried him inside. Saguru hobbled after them, noting a woman—Mouri Ran? Now Kudo?—holding the door open. She pointed him in the direction they had headed, and Saguru gave her a nod of thanks. He didn't stop to take his shoes off—no one had—and felt a thin trickle of guilt add to the bubble of suppressed emotions that were clamoring to come out now that Kid was moving toward safe.
He made it to a room that looked like a lab, only a table had been dragged in and sterilized to work as an operating room, and a mishmash of medical objects sat on a folding tray table. It stank of disinfectant and looked like something a back-room yakuza doctor would have set up.
"I'm not making any promises," Haibara was saying to Takumi. "I'm a chemist, not a doctor, but I've fixed up enough scrapes this idiot has gotten himself into to have some idea of what I'm doing."
Kudo didn't seem to take offense to her tone as he helped cut Kid free of his clothing.
Takumi looked away, turning green as bruises and abrasions became visible.
"Takumi-kun, it's okay," Saguru said. "You don't have to watch."
Relief plain in his face, Takumi all but ran out of the room. Saguru looked at Kid, frowning. "He needs a blood transfusion," he muttered.
"I can't do a transfusion if I don't know what blood type he is," Haibara said. She'd gotten Kid's pants off, leaving just his underwear for modesty for the moment, but based on the bruising, even that would have to be removed to properly treat it.
"He's type B," Saguru said, a detail committed to memory a lifetime ago. "I'd donate, but I'm type A."
"I'm O," Kudo cut in, "and so is Ran. I'll give a transfusion."
Haibara snorted. "Of course," she said tone just a hair off mocking. "You would give the thief house, help, and your own blood."
Kudo scowled and there was context Saguru was missing, some reason for Haibara to have hostility or, perhaps, a judgment on Kudo's character. Kudo turned to Saguru. "I'm glad you made it out of that mess in one piece," Kudo said. "It's bad out there... Not really what you needed to come out of retirement for." There was the tiniest thread of humor there, like he was used to searching for the bright side in disasters.
Saguru sighed. "I am still retired. Technically."
"I would have thought you'd turn him in," Kudo said, sharp eyed and evaluating. He cut away Kid's dress shirt so that only the Kevlar and undershirt remained.
"Funny," Saguru shot back. "I would have thought the same of you." He didn't know how far he could trust Kudo, didn't know what to think of him here and now as he helped Kid.
"How did you know Kid's blood type?" Kudo asked. "If you're still trying to unmask—"
"I don't need to bloody unmask him!" Saguru growled, heightened emotions finally coming out as anger. Kudo looked immediately apologetic, and somehow that only made the anger twist higher. "I've known who the hell he is for almost seventeen bloody years! I knew who he was practically the moment I met him face to face without the costume on! I had DNA! I just never caught him in the act!" He paused, breathing hard and feeling wildly off balance. Haibara had removed the bandage at Kid's leg and was sanitizing it. The room started to smell like blood. "That was years ago," Saguru continued hoarsely. "And frankly? He's a better friend than an opponent, and I would rather get arrested for aiding a criminal than let him get arrested because if he gets caught, he's just as dead as getting shot at a heist, and so is everyone else in his life." He swayed, shot Haibara a hard look. "Don't let Takumi-kun come in here," he said, noting how the latex mask had ripped and curled up some in the process of stripping Kid. "Especially once the mask comes off." He had no doubt that she'd be removing it.
"Oh?" She sounded bored, but her eyes were sharp in the glance she sent him.
Once the mask came off, there wouldn't be much use in hiding Kuroba's identity, and Takumi looked just like him.
"It would be best if right now he didn't know he witnessed his father bleeding out on the pavement," Saguru said bitingly.
Kudo's eyes widened and Haibara gripped the scalpel she was using to cut away Saguru's makeshift bandages until her knuckles were white.
"So please," Saguru said, "do your best to ensure he doesn't die." He swayed again because his good leg wanted to give out and he was suddenly very aware of the blood drying under his fingernails and how it clung in flakes to the grooves of his fingerprints and the iron tang of it in the air. "Excuse me," he said, stumbling as fast as he could away.
He didn't know where a bathroom was. Instead, he staggered into the first room he came to, located the wastebasket, and promptly threw up in it. His legs gave out and he sat on the floor as he gagged until there was nothing left in his stomach and then some, shaking now that Kid—Kuroba—was in someone else's hands.
Damn.
He couldn't do this. He couldn't go through this again. He couldn't be waiting to see if someone he cared for lived or died with their blood on his hands again. Saguru wanted to be clean, to sear away the blood with hot water until his hands were raw, but he was too busy trying to breathe and stop shaking to try and find the bathroom to do so.
He was thirteen months ago, sitting in the lobby of the hospital, blood on his hands and the scent of sanitizer in his nose and a body sitting in blood seared in his mind. He could all but feel the biting plastic of the waiting room seat, see the brown stains caught on his hands no matter how many times he washed them. The metallic, meaty scent of blood that hung around his stained clothes where he'd caught Mel as he crumpled. The sound of doctor's shoes on hard tile approaching him. The beep of a heart monitor and hiss of an oxygen mask.
There was a distant hand on his shoulder, a voice, but he couldn't smell anything but the blood now and no matter how many breaths he took, he felt like he couldn't breathe.
"Please," someone said.
Then another voice, firmer and calmer, "Hakuba. It's okay. Whatever you're seeing, that's not now. You're not there." The hospital receded slightly as he felt an ache in his shoulders—two hands gripping them tightly. He took a breath, focused on them, because he knew it was the past even if it didn't feel like it. "You're in Japan," the voice continued, "in Beika. You're in one of the guest bedrooms of the Kudo manor. There's carpet under your hands, can you feel it?"
Saguru twitched his fingers, and there was carpet, rough and woolen. He took another breath and closed his eyes, focusing on the now, the feel of hands on his shoulders and the breath in his lungs and the carpet under his fingers. He let the breath out and opened his eyes. Kudo crouched in front of him looking concerned but not judgmental.
"You really are retired aren't you?" he asked.
"Yes, but only fully as of ten months ago," Saguru replied. What kind of detective couldn't handle blood?
Kudo looked over Saguru's shoulder and reached out. Saguru turned and flinched to see Takumi with a glass of water. He looked worried too. "To clear your mouth," Kudo said in way of explanation.
"Thank you," Saguru rasped. The water was cold, the temperature difference one more thing to focus on. It washed the acrid taste of stomach bile from his tongue and soothed his stinging throat. He tried not to pay attention to how drinking brought his bloodied hands closer to his face. "Is there a place where I can wash up?"
Kudo nodded toward a door in the back of the room, which, now that Saguru was looking, was a guest room with a bed made up along one wall and a few pieces of furniture to give the space some character.
"Ah. Thank you."
"I'm going to be Haibara's second pair of hands," Kudo said, letting go of Saguru's shoulder. "If you or, Takumi-kun was it?" Takumi nodded. "If you need anything, talk to Ran."
"We'll be sure to do so," Saguru murmured, waiting until Kudo was gone to even attempt to stand up. To his surprise, Takumi was at his side, stabilizing him so that they could make it to the bathroom together. Saguru was careful not to look in the mirror as he scrubbed at his arms, leaning most of his weight on the sink.
"Hakuba-sensei…" Takumi said quietly when Saguru soaped up for a third time, focusing on the blood caught around his fingernails.
"I'm aware that I'm not going to be able to remove it all," Saguru said. This happened when blood dried on in small creases and crevices of skin. Takumi's skin had blood trapped under his nails and the creases of his knuckles as well. He must have washed himself clean in between leaving the makeshift operating room and finding Saguru. Saguru stopped himself from washing a fourth time. "I apologize."
Takumi twitched. "For what? I'm the one that tried to see the heist."
His poker face still didn't hold a candle to Kuroba's. He was unnerved and scared under his bravado. It was no doubt worse for seeing Saguru have a breakdown when he should be the one in control.
"Be that as it may, you should not have had to be a part of all this."
He got a shrug in response.
"And I apologize that you had to witness…" me having a mental breakdown "…my loss of control."
"…I wouldn't judge you on that," Takumi said seriously. "You held it together when you needed to while I was… There's nothing to apologize about." He looked back toward the makeshift operating room as Saguru dabbed ineffectively at the bloodstains on his clothing. "How long have people been trying to kill Kid?"
"…the entirety of Kid's existence so far as I am aware. The entirety of both Kid's existences."
"Both?"
Saguru gave up on getting any stains to come out. The outfit would most likely have to be tossed. "There have been at least two Kids in existence; the first Kid that built the thief's reputation, and a second Kid who appeared eight years after the first Kid vanished."
"Oh." Takumi offered his shoulder in support. "So whoever shot Kid today probably killed his predecessor."
"That is the theory," Saguru said. That theory proven true through conversations with Kuroba.
"He really would die if we took him to the hospital, then."
"It isn't outside the realm of belief that they are keeping an eye on hospitals for someone to come in with gunshot wounds. It also isn't unlikely that they are using police resources to do so."
"…How much does Kaa-san know?" Takumi asked softly.
"She didn't want you at heists, did she?" Saguru said. In the few stories involving Kid Saguru had told Takumi, they had been the lighter hearted ones, usually with humorous moments at Saguru's expense or featuring Takumi's parents. Aoko and Kuroba had likely done the same, if only to spare Takumi some worry about his mother leading the task force. He couldn't have been completely ignorant of the injuries surrounding heists, but there was knowing something and then there was witnessing it firsthand.
Takumi was quiet the rest of the way to the study. A clock chimed three in the morning. Saguru sat on one of the couches and closed his eyes. He felt like he could sleep for a year except that there was still anxious tension thrumming under his skin. It made for the perfect combination of exhaustion and insomnia. Takumi sat on the same couch, to Saguru's surprise.
He was pale, half curled in on himself with his shoulders slumped and his hands limp and open on his lap. Takumi wasn't someone who came across the sort of violence that Saguru or Kudo had over the years. Even Aoko had her share of violence. Despite his reaction to it today, it had been more because it was Kuroba and the injuries were gunshot wounds that Saguru had reacted badly than the blood and gore itself. It was easy to forget sometimes that not everyone was used to dealing with that sort of thing.
"Takumi-kun."
"Hmm?" Takumi looked away from his hands slowly.
Saguru set a hand on Takumi's shoulder. "You did well. It's not easy to keep calm in an emergency, but you did."
"Is it always so…?" Takumi clenched his hands.
"Sometimes," Saguru answered honestly. "Sometimes you are haunted by the memory for years."
"And other times?"
"Other times it might barely affect you and you end up wondering if something is wrong with you that blood and bodies don't bring the emotions they used to."
"Oh." Takumi tipped sideways, his head landing on Saguru's shoulder. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Can I just…?"
"It's fine." Saguru settled himself back into the couch cushions and closed his eyes. He might sleep, he might not. He couldn't deny that contact was comforting to him right now either. "Try to rest."
He felt Takumi shift to get comfortable, heard his breathing shift slower and deeper the longer they sat until he might be asleep. Somewhere in the mess of tension, Saguru managed to let go as well, drifting into a daze of half awareness, one step away from sleep.
*O*O*
An aside, if people need something not depressing after this chapter, there's a Saguru/Kid PWP posted to my AO3 and Tumblr if anyone is interested, titled "All Caught Up with Nowhere To Go". I stopped posting mature fics here past a certain rating, so check out those places if that's your thing. If not, see you next chapter!
