"Through the alley," Watson puffs, "on the right."

He's running as hard as he can, cane not even touching the ground, a breath behind César. He's ignoring the pain in his leg through sheer adrenaline, and he'll pay for it later, but the most important thing is that there is a later.

Through the alley, though, is his clinic, and safety. He fishes in his pocket for the key without slowing down. "Over there," he says, key in the air.