and then she's off, carrying the bunny off to another part of the house to give the two of them some privacy.
jiaoqiu is just as bandaged as therion - his shirt is off, so they're very visible, across his torso and arm. his leg is in a brace, and he's mostly clean of blood, though his fur and hair is still stained in places. he looks particularly frail, pale, but he's breathing, and it's not ragged or gasping. whatever magic lingsha has seems to have at least made it so that he is not missing chunks of flesh, but he's got a huge bruise on his cheek and a nasty claw mark across the side of his face that extends down to his neck and shoulder. not as bad as it had been, but... still.
when therion sits, jiaoqiu's ear flicks. and he shifts, expression contorting into something pained, though he's not all the way awake just yet. there's a mumbled word that sounds familiar, as he struggles to pull himself to consciousness. ]
[ well. he looks... better than he did the last time therion saw him conscious, but that's a very, very low bar. comparing jiaoqiu laying in this bed right now to the jiaoqiu of 24 hours ago, whining about getting out of bed and sprawling across the covers, being irritating on purpose until therion pinned him down, pink splash on white sheets - it's a night and day difference. he looks like a wraith, a shade of barely existing life, all too pale skin and too white bandages.
he should've known this was going to happen. he should've taken jiaoqiu away. he should've - he should've left, bolted out of town months ago. now they're both in danger, and god knows for how long that's going to be. that doesn't even begin to unpack the other problems, but it's whats on his mind as he stares at that claw mark, so vibrant and bright against the rest of him, a claw straight through that play-pretend that the past couple of days were.
he's got his arms folded when he sits, tense and tight, but - watching jiaoqiu start to mumble and stir, therion exhales out, a short, annoyed sounding sigh, and mutters - ] Did you not hear her? She said rest, idiot. Don't start trying to get up, now. [ and lifts his hands, only he pauses - he's not sure what to do with his hands. he's not sure how to help.
he's not sure if he could even touch without breaking. whether its himself or jiaoqiu that might shatter, its hard to say. his hands stay hovering in the air. ]
Edited (i did a cyrus tag today and you can tell by the word "rouse" ) 2024-10-19 21:21 (UTC)
[ maybe the reason jiaoqiu fights so hard to wake up is because he subconsciously knows, somehow, that therion is taking all this alone time to internalize more guilt and trauma,
no, it's probably not that intricate, but there is something in him that senses the distress. it takes a second, but he follows that voice, and after a moment, his gold eyes blearily open and try to focus. silence, for a moment, and then he sucks in a sharp breath, a little panicky, because his vision isn't gone, but the claw mark across his cheek makes it a little difficult to open that eye and it's just so, so similar, he can still smell the borisin and the blood and he's a little lost in it. he can see, but what if it fades, what if someone comes to him and says, i'm sorry, you should be sitting down for this, it's just that the general...
therion's hand hovers, and jiaoqiu grabs for it, fingers scrabbling - misses the first time, and then tries again, with a much more clear: ]
[ oh. oh, god - the scrabbling panic startles him, too, and he jolts where he's sitting. he doesn't pull his hand back or anything when he starts to grab at him, and instinct takes over before anything else. he lets jiaoqiu take his hand.
his hands are cold, but he's there. familiar, rough palms, scratched in old scars. fluttery pulse, when he scrabbles, but still there. ]
Take - [ ngh. ] Take it easy, fluff, I'm right here.
[ he is so bad at being comforting in every way shape or form, but therion's not stupid, either. he knows exactly why jiaoqiu is reacting like that, exactly what he must be thinking. and for a second, whatever awful thoughts he was having are pushed off to the wayside, because his entire attention is taken up with trying to keep jiaoqiu from running off down that path when he doesn't have to. he's... here. for whatever fucking reason, he's here. ]
[ it just barely staves off the panic attack he's working himself up into, hearing therion's voice.
his chest heaves with it, which hurts all over. he doesn't feel a lot, sometimes, but that doesn't extend to the physical. he's a noodle with absolutely no pain tolerance, and it makes him wince horribly when he moves wrong. he freezes, sucking in another sharp breath and trying to calm down. alive. they're both alive. therion is here. it's not really a surprise, but it's such a relief in so many ways that he chokes a bit, forgetting that he has to breathe.
he's shaking, but he holds that hand like a lifeline, and for the first time in a very long time he doesn't immediately have to fight off the void. he's so, so awake, staring at therion like he's not sure he's real. ]
[ ah - god, when he winces, he looks mildly distressed, which is a lot of distress for the king of the resting bitch face. his other hand flutters, uselessly, and he just kind of sets it on the side of the bed, suddenly feeling just as overwhelmed by the pain that he's in and the tremor in his arm, in his hand. could've been avoided. should've been avoided.
oh. jiaoqiu's asking a question. therion bites the inside of his cheek, hard. he's holding onto him like a lifeboat. he can't let him drown. ]
Hell if I know. [ he thinks he's asking where they are? if its something else, oh well. there's a beat, because he does at least know this part, and he adds, a little quieter - ] ...Your doctor friend.
[ it's a good enough answer. it tells him enough - the borisin can't get here, for now. another couple of seconds of trying to calm down, his hand shaking so violently that it hurts, and he really feels like he might pass out again, but. lingsha's magic keeps him together, makes the pain start to recede a little. ]
Are you... all right? [ he asks, haltingly. ] You... came for...
[ deep breath. he looks therion over, trying to find and catalog his injuries, forgetting about his own. it hurts, but he has a very vivid memory of a borisin getting his teeth into therion's arm, and he passed out before he could see the extent of the damage. ]
[ god, of course. he snorts, humorless, dry, and mutters: ] I can't believe you.
[ asking after him, after all of that. he's not surprised, which is the worst part. a beat passes. another. his fingers curl around jiaoqiu's when his tremor worsens, tentatively. a feral creature with withdrawn claws. ]
I'm fine. [ ... ] You were gone for too long.
[ for once, his paranoia came in handy. it shouldn't have had to, but it did. ]
[ his ears sort of just press back, which also hurts, but it's an involuntary thing. he swallows, and very gingerly brings therion's hand in his closer, pressing it to his uninjured cheek. trust, bringing the withdrawn claws to him. ]
... I'm sorry. [ he says, after a moment, closing his eyes. ] I was cornered. They took... my phone. I wanted to... come back. So I went with... with them.
[ it's the only time he's had some measure of survival instinct in years. they could've killed him, but therion was waiting for him. he couldn't do that to him. he couldn't leave therion to find his corpse somewhere.
therion's hand is cold, but that's okay. jiaoqiu's are normally freezing - he's usually got no body heat to speak of, despite everything - but right now he's all overheated. probably a fever, he thinks absently. therion's hand feels good on his skin. ]
[ he lets him do that - take his hand, bring it closer, and it feels bad, bad in ways that it's uncomfortable and too much and not enough all at once. his hand's so close to that claw mark on his face.
there's a long pause before he says anything, his face turned away. ]
What would you lose this time, your hearing? Your tongue?
[ it comes out sharp, sharper than he means it to. angry, because that's all he ever knows how to show. it comes from a different place, though, this time. worry and frustration, something fierce, something angry. ]
Guy seemed thrilled to have you back in there. [ and whose fault was that? he thinks about he's an informant and how dissonant it felt with the condition jiaoqiu was in, and it snarls unhappily in his stomach. ] The only way you were getting out was in a body bag.
[ he says, finally, to the first part. because he doesn't really want to be dead. he doesn't always want to be alive, but that doesn't mean death is preferable. the anger gets him - he knows this is how therion shows concern, but there's a weird tinge to it that he can't quite figure out. his overheated brain works overtime as he tries to make sense of what this anger means. obviously, therion's frustrated, but he can't figure out if it's because he's angry at jiaoqiu for being cornered, or injured, or something else. it does not occur to him that therion might be angry at himself. ]
You came to get me. [ ... ] You... almost died, to get me.
[ ooooh his expression at that is not good - it flickers across even his face, something thunderously unhappy, and he looks away. better to be deaf or wordless. better to not be a fucking corpse at all.
you almost died, he says, and therion scoffs - it hurts his still recovering body, but he doesn't care. ]
Yeah, well - you wouldn't have even been in that situation if it wasn't for me.
[ it's out of his mouth before he has any time to really think about it. he thinks about darius' smug fucking face on the way out. how he's going to be seeing it in his nightmares all over again, fresh and infuriating.
another pause. and then, roughly - ] You almost died.
silence, for a moment, and then he slowly shifts therion's fingers to his pulse. lets him feel it against his neck. it's a little slow, but it's there. he strokes therion's hand with his thumb. slowly, the shaking is easing up. ]
Is that what you think? That... it's your fault? [ he asks, soft. ] It wasn't. It was an inevitability for me, whether... I'd met you or not.
[ oooghgh this is!!! too much, this is making it worse, he feels seen, and his fingers twitch when he feels his pulse. he'd felt it in that stupid room, too. there is not a single moment in his life he ever felt more afraid than when he heard that tiny whimper and the tearing of bone and flesh from body, and he thought he was too late.
it's just. it's jiaoqiu, being jiaoqiu, as usual. ]
Stop - stop, stop trying to comfort me, you - [ god he could shake jiaoqiu. he won't, but oh, he could shake him. the problem is he doesn't even know what he wants to say - he feels like a livewire, about three seconds from jittering out of his skin. he shouldn't be here. he should be - he doesn't even know what, anymore, and he scrubs his hand over his face, harshly, over his bad eye. ] God.
[ that makes jiaoqiu laugh? it shouldn't, it's not really funny. it just makes him cough-huff one out, weakly. he's knows this is a lot for his stupid tsundere thief - and he doesn't even correct himself on the thought. his. the last three days in the hotel, the gradual ease of therion's shoulders, and now, watching him jitter at the thought of having to be honest with himself about how badly this affects him. all of that, he thinks, makes therion so very much his. and it's okay, if therion doesn't feel the same, but he can't quite lie to himself anymore about it.
jiaoqiu has shitty self worth, but he's not stupid. he can see this. he knows that he's a lost cause, because the first thing he thought about when he woke up was whether or not therion survived. ]
Therion.
[ he mumbles, watching him. ]
What do you think happened?
[ what did you hear? let him explain, let him help. let him connect, stop putting up that wall. he wants in, he needs in. ]
[ don't laugh - his head whips up to glower automatically, and in any other situation, he might fluster. he's not sure he has enough blood in his body left for it, so there's that but it's not normal, nothing about this is normal. his fingers twitch, again, and he can't even make himself pull his hand back and away from him, and that's freaking him out, too. stupid. fucking stupid.
god. therion takes a breath from behind his other hand. inhale, exhale, drags his other hand down his face and drops it into his lap. ]
Information trade. [ a pause - his eyes flick back to jiaoqiu's face, again. ] Did you work for him?
After the General and her retainer died, I tracked... him down. [ he has to take breaks, because even talking hurts, but he's going to explain or else. ] I convinced him that I was swayed... by the borisin creed. And I worked to bring him down. I wanted... to ruin his life.
[ a little smile. ]
Death was not enough for him. I wanted to... break him.
[ the sheer honesty of this, the fact that he's delivering the story, helps to settle tiniest bit of that anxious, awful feeling. that nagging little voice in the back of his head from the bar's finally quieting down, even if it's just to a whisper instead of to a shout.
he regards him, regards that. frankly, he respects it - he knows jiaoqiu's kind of shady - but he can't say that now, not yet. therion has no shitty commentary for it, which is how you know he's a little distraught, or at least a lot focused. ]
Did you stop? [ working for him. his voice stays level. ]
What I was doing... I couldn't keep doing. It was killing me. [ having to bring people in, having to gather information so that the people he wanted to save, wanted to treat - they got funneled in and torn apart, and nothing he could do would ruin hoolay. he had no morals. nothing to exploit.
he stood on a rooftop and he stared over the edge of it, and he was a step away from walking on air when feixiao's angry voice scolded him into moving back, and he realized - he couldn't keep on. he had to get away. ]
But he didn't want... to let me go. He wouldn't. I know... too much, and he'd grown fond of having a pet that... he could do whatever he wanted to.
[ he shifts again - like he wants to curl up. he can't, he's too broken for it, but maybe that explains why he flinched so badly, that one night. ]
So when he assigned me a mission to find new targets... I ran.
that's therion's worst fucking nightmare. and he saw exactly what "whatever he wanted" looked like, when he came across jiaoqiu, tied to that chair. how much of that was punishment for running away, and how much of it was playing with his food? the idea rankles him, makes all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and for a moment his displeasure with the concept flickers across his eyes.
it explains a lot, subconsciously - when he shifts for the next time, therion says, quiet: ] Stop moving. [ but it's not mean, just an aside. a fussy phrase, mumbled almost automatically, while he thinks over everything he's been told. hoolay's reaction. the way he and his goons gave chase.
but therion's a good thief. and right now, he's finding this particular treasure he wants to keep, and that's just as scary, too. he doesn't relax, not yet, because he can't just believe it, even though he should, even though it's honest. he has to ask, tongue too big for his mouth, acid in his stomach, in his throat. ]
... How long ago?
[ you think that little rat thief was the target? ]
[ he says, absently. he's fading, just a little, but. he stops moving, when therion tells him to. obediently. he glances up at therion, still holding his hand. ]
It really was only a matter of time until he caught up. [ he's so unaware - it doesn't even occur to him what hoolay might have said to his underlings, what lies he might have spread to save face. he doesn't know anything about darius passing on information, he doesn't even know that it wasn't common knowledge that he ran. ]
I'm... sorry, that you were in the... line of fire. You didn't... you didn't have to come for me. Thank you.
[ well, he's sure about to know, because he looks away again, staring at his feet, feeling the urge to bolt, again. when he closes his eyes, he can see darius' stupid fucking face staring down at him from that cliff, from that building. jiaoqiu's unsteady breathing against the back of his neck as they leapt from the top of it. dying, on his back. thrown back into danger, because... because, what? because he was too fucking weak to break away from jiaoqiu earlier? because he was too stupid to leave town, he should have left town, he should've - they both should've --
he cuts himself off, mentally, verbally, cuts off jiaoqiu with: ]
Don't.
[ therion says, because he can't - he can't take his fucking gratitude, not right now, and he says, bluntly, ripped raw. ]
They found you because of me. [ because of darius, but he doesn't say that. ]
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and then she's off, carrying the bunny off to another part of the house to give the two of them some privacy.
jiaoqiu is just as bandaged as therion - his shirt is off, so they're very visible, across his torso and arm. his leg is in a brace, and he's mostly clean of blood, though his fur and hair is still stained in places. he looks particularly frail, pale, but he's breathing, and it's not ragged or gasping. whatever magic lingsha has seems to have at least made it so that he is not missing chunks of flesh, but he's got a huge bruise on his cheek and a nasty claw mark across the side of his face that extends down to his neck and shoulder. not as bad as it had been, but... still.
when therion sits, jiaoqiu's ear flicks. and he shifts, expression contorting into something pained, though he's not all the way awake just yet. there's a mumbled word that sounds familiar, as he struggles to pull himself to consciousness. ]
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he should've known this was going to happen. he should've taken jiaoqiu away. he should've - he should've left, bolted out of town months ago. now they're both in danger, and god knows for how long that's going to be. that doesn't even begin to unpack the other problems, but it's whats on his mind as he stares at that claw mark, so vibrant and bright against the rest of him, a claw straight through that play-pretend that the past couple of days were.
he's got his arms folded when he sits, tense and tight, but - watching jiaoqiu start to mumble and stir, therion exhales out, a short, annoyed sounding sigh, and mutters - ] Did you not hear her? She said rest, idiot. Don't start trying to get up, now. [ and lifts his hands, only he pauses - he's not sure what to do with his hands. he's not sure how to help.
he's not sure if he could even touch without breaking. whether its himself or jiaoqiu that might shatter, its hard to say. his hands stay hovering in the air. ]
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no, it's probably not that intricate, but there is something in him that senses the distress. it takes a second, but he follows that voice, and after a moment, his gold eyes blearily open and try to focus. silence, for a moment, and then he sucks in a sharp breath, a little panicky, because his vision isn't gone, but the claw mark across his cheek makes it a little difficult to open that eye and it's just so, so similar, he can still smell the borisin and the blood and he's a little lost in it. he can see, but what if it fades, what if someone comes to him and says, i'm sorry, you should be sitting down for this, it's just that the general...
therion's hand hovers, and jiaoqiu grabs for it, fingers scrabbling - misses the first time, and then tries again, with a much more clear: ]
Therion.
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his hands are cold, but he's there. familiar, rough palms, scratched in old scars. fluttery pulse, when he scrabbles, but still there. ]
Take - [ ngh. ] Take it easy, fluff, I'm right here.
[ he is so bad at being comforting in every way shape or form, but therion's not stupid, either. he knows exactly why jiaoqiu is reacting like that, exactly what he must be thinking. and for a second, whatever awful thoughts he was having are pushed off to the wayside, because his entire attention is taken up with trying to keep jiaoqiu from running off down that path when he doesn't have to. he's... here. for whatever fucking reason, he's here. ]
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his chest heaves with it, which hurts all over. he doesn't feel a lot, sometimes, but that doesn't extend to the physical. he's a noodle with absolutely no pain tolerance, and it makes him wince horribly when he moves wrong. he freezes, sucking in another sharp breath and trying to calm down. alive. they're both alive. therion is here. it's not really a surprise, but it's such a relief in so many ways that he chokes a bit, forgetting that he has to breathe.
he's shaking, but he holds that hand like a lifeline, and for the first time in a very long time he doesn't immediately have to fight off the void. he's so, so awake, staring at therion like he's not sure he's real. ]
You... where...
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oh. jiaoqiu's asking a question. therion bites the inside of his cheek, hard. he's holding onto him like a lifeboat. he can't let him drown. ]
Hell if I know. [ he thinks he's asking where they are? if its something else, oh well. there's a beat, because he does at least know this part, and he adds, a little quieter - ] ...Your doctor friend.
[ lingsha, or whatever. ]
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Are you... all right? [ he asks, haltingly. ] You... came for...
[ deep breath. he looks therion over, trying to find and catalog his injuries, forgetting about his own. it hurts, but he has a very vivid memory of a borisin getting his teeth into therion's arm, and he passed out before he could see the extent of the damage. ]
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[ asking after him, after all of that. he's not surprised, which is the worst part. a beat passes. another. his fingers curl around jiaoqiu's when his tremor worsens, tentatively. a feral creature with withdrawn claws. ]
I'm fine. [ ... ] You were gone for too long.
[ for once, his paranoia came in handy. it shouldn't have had to, but it did. ]
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... I'm sorry. [ he says, after a moment, closing his eyes. ] I was cornered. They took... my phone. I wanted to... come back. So I went with... with them.
[ it's the only time he's had some measure of survival instinct in years. they could've killed him, but therion was waiting for him. he couldn't do that to him. he couldn't leave therion to find his corpse somewhere.
therion's hand is cold, but that's okay. jiaoqiu's are normally freezing - he's usually got no body heat to speak of, despite everything - but right now he's all overheated. probably a fever, he thinks absently. therion's hand feels good on his skin. ]
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there's a long pause before he says anything, his face turned away. ]
Right. They would've let you come back.
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No... but I would be alive. [ he says, opening his eyes to look at therion. ] I would have... found some way to escape. Somehow.
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[ it comes out sharp, sharper than he means it to. angry, because that's all he ever knows how to show. it comes from a different place, though, this time. worry and frustration, something fierce, something angry. ]
Guy seemed thrilled to have you back in there. [ and whose fault was that? he thinks about he's an informant and how dissonant it felt with the condition jiaoqiu was in, and it snarls unhappily in his stomach. ] The only way you were getting out was in a body bag.
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[ he says, finally, to the first part. because he doesn't really want to be dead. he doesn't always want to be alive, but that doesn't mean death is preferable. the anger gets him - he knows this is how therion shows concern, but there's a weird tinge to it that he can't quite figure out. his overheated brain works overtime as he tries to make sense of what this anger means. obviously, therion's frustrated, but he can't figure out if it's because he's angry at jiaoqiu for being cornered, or injured, or something else. it does not occur to him that therion might be angry at himself. ]
You came to get me. [ ... ] You... almost died, to get me.
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you almost died, he says, and therion scoffs - it hurts his still recovering body, but he doesn't care. ]
Yeah, well - you wouldn't have even been in that situation if it wasn't for me.
[ it's out of his mouth before he has any time to really think about it. he thinks about darius' smug fucking face on the way out. how he's going to be seeing it in his nightmares all over again, fresh and infuriating.
another pause. and then, roughly - ] You almost died.
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silence, for a moment, and then he slowly shifts therion's fingers to his pulse. lets him feel it against his neck. it's a little slow, but it's there. he strokes therion's hand with his thumb. slowly, the shaking is easing up. ]
Is that what you think? That... it's your fault? [ he asks, soft. ] It wasn't. It was an inevitability for me, whether... I'd met you or not.
[ ... ]
I'm not dead. I'm here.
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it's just. it's jiaoqiu, being jiaoqiu, as usual. ]
Stop - stop, stop trying to comfort me, you - [ god he could shake jiaoqiu. he won't, but oh, he could shake him. the problem is he doesn't even know what he wants to say - he feels like a livewire, about three seconds from jittering out of his skin. he shouldn't be here. he should be - he doesn't even know what, anymore, and he scrubs his hand over his face, harshly, over his bad eye. ] God.
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jiaoqiu has shitty self worth, but he's not stupid. he can see this. he knows that he's a lost cause, because the first thing he thought about when he woke up was whether or not therion survived. ]
Therion.
[ he mumbles, watching him. ]
What do you think happened?
[ what did you hear? let him explain, let him help. let him connect, stop putting up that wall. he wants in, he needs in. ]
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god. therion takes a breath from behind his other hand. inhale, exhale, drags his other hand down his face and drops it into his lap. ]
Information trade. [ a pause - his eyes flick back to jiaoqiu's face, again. ] Did you work for him?
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[ honestly, soft. ]
After the General and her retainer died, I tracked... him down. [ he has to take breaks, because even talking hurts, but he's going to explain or else. ] I convinced him that I was swayed... by the borisin creed. And I worked to bring him down. I wanted... to ruin his life.
[ a little smile. ]
Death was not enough for him. I wanted to... break him.
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he regards him, regards that. frankly, he respects it - he knows jiaoqiu's kind of shady - but he can't say that now, not yet. therion has no shitty commentary for it, which is how you know he's a little distraught, or at least a lot focused. ]
Did you stop? [ working for him. his voice stays level. ]
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[ he shifts, wincing just a little. ]
What I was doing... I couldn't keep doing. It was killing me. [ having to bring people in, having to gather information so that the people he wanted to save, wanted to treat - they got funneled in and torn apart, and nothing he could do would ruin hoolay. he had no morals. nothing to exploit.
he stood on a rooftop and he stared over the edge of it, and he was a step away from walking on air when feixiao's angry voice scolded him into moving back, and he realized - he couldn't keep on. he had to get away. ]
But he didn't want... to let me go. He wouldn't. I know... too much, and he'd grown fond of having a pet that... he could do whatever he wanted to.
[ he shifts again - like he wants to curl up. he can't, he's too broken for it, but maybe that explains why he flinched so badly, that one night. ]
So when he assigned me a mission to find new targets... I ran.
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that's therion's worst fucking nightmare. and he saw exactly what "whatever he wanted" looked like, when he came across jiaoqiu, tied to that chair. how much of that was punishment for running away, and how much of it was playing with his food? the idea rankles him, makes all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and for a moment his displeasure with the concept flickers across his eyes.
it explains a lot, subconsciously - when he shifts for the next time, therion says, quiet: ] Stop moving. [ but it's not mean, just an aside. a fussy phrase, mumbled almost automatically, while he thinks over everything he's been told. hoolay's reaction. the way he and his goons gave chase.
but therion's a good thief. and right now, he's finding this particular treasure he wants to keep, and that's just as scary, too. he doesn't relax, not yet, because he can't just believe it, even though he should, even though it's honest. he has to ask, tongue too big for his mouth, acid in his stomach, in his throat. ]
... How long ago?
[ you think that little rat thief was the target? ]
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[ he says, absently. he's fading, just a little, but. he stops moving, when therion tells him to. obediently. he glances up at therion, still holding his hand. ]
It really was only a matter of time until he caught up. [ he's so unaware - it doesn't even occur to him what hoolay might have said to his underlings, what lies he might have spread to save face. he doesn't know anything about darius passing on information, he doesn't even know that it wasn't common knowledge that he ran. ]
I'm... sorry, that you were in the... line of fire. You didn't... you didn't have to come for me. Thank you.
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he cuts himself off, mentally, verbally, cuts off jiaoqiu with: ]
Don't.
[ therion says, because he can't - he can't take his fucking gratitude, not right now, and he says, bluntly, ripped raw. ]
They found you because of me. [ because of darius, but he doesn't say that. ]
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What do you mean?
[ because he does not for a second think that therion sold him out. not after dragging him across town to try and hide him. ]
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