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Renard tried to help, but he didn’t know what to say. His hands stil hurt from the wounds the glass made in them so his fingers were not very helpful with picking up the crumbs or sliding them off into his hand. His voice caught in his in his throat. Unsure what he could say to apologize even more for making her scared of him. He knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but for some reason he felt like a knife stabbed in him the gut. Freya was probably one of his closest friends that he made. He had started driving her too and from school for the passed couple weeks now. He had a sudden worry that she would not want to do that anymore. 

Before he could apologize once again she spoke up. He looked to the bag and was going to say thank you once more. But she suddenly stopped, moving away and out of the room quickly. [color=BCC127]F-Fre….[/color] he tried to call out. Reaching towards her… But she was gone. 

Could she really not stand him anymore? Just being nice to be nice? His shoulders slumped and he let out a long sigh. He limped over to the closet and pulled out his bag, which had his change of clothes in it. Slowly changing into them, he suddenly realized after pulling his shirt on, it was slightly discolored and grainy. Remembering the other time he hurt freya. Closing his eyes he brushed his shirt off of the salt and went over to the table with the bag of half crushed chips and slipped it into an outer pocket of his backpack. 

He started for his door when he heard a knock, a man introduced himself to Renard, saying he worked for Sofia’s family. Handing him a letter and saying she would fully recover, at a different hospital. Renard sighed with some relief. But confused on why he said sorry. As the man left, he opened the letter slowly. 

A mixture of emotion fluttered acrossed renards face, a small smile at her apologizing for her penmanship. Which he didn’t even notice because it was so much better than his normal one. To surprise, anger, worry, and sadness. The fact she told him not to see her, as well as the fact she wouldn’t be coming back to school. 

She went on to explain how much she changed, and grew. Something he had seen even in these short few weeks. Something he admired about her, being a ‘Lady’ from a rich family. She was not like any of the other “rich kids” he knew of.  He was glad she still had her goal to become a hero despite what happened. 

By the time he reached the part where she called them her heros. He started to cry, feeling ashamed of himself. He didn’t feel like a hero, he couldn't protect her, nor freya, nor the others. Despite his training before he came to this school. He didn’t deserve to be called her hero…

[center][color=00aeef][i]My little hero…[/i][/color][/center] 

He started to cry even more as he heard his mother's voice in his head, he sat down on a chair that was near the door and covered his face with his hands. [color=BCC127][i]I’m not a hero…I can't protect anyone. No matter how hard I try.. Everyone I care about just gets hurt....[/i] [/color]

After a few moments he took a deep breath. And continued to read the last part… as if she almost knew he was doubting himself. He could hear a muffled memory of his mother's voice once again… it reminded him of something...but it was too deep to remember just yet.

He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. Look at him being so pathetic. Being so selfish and focused on himself. His friends were all hurt and he didn’t even attempt to go see them. Just moping in his bed. His mother would be ashamed…

He slapped his cheeks and yelped in pain as his wounded hands and cheek stung extra long and worse. Being an idiot and forgetting about his injuries. He pushed himself up and decided to go find the others. Even if Freya didn’t want to be near him… 

He folded the letter and slipped it into his back pocket. He would also have to tell the others about Sofia.Once he would get his phone charged, he would have to call her. 

He limped slightly through the halls, his right leg still tight from the muscle seizure from the day before. trying to figure out where Freya would have run off too. Would it have been back to her room? Or someone else's? It took a minute but he finally saw her, along with peter and gabby down at the other end of the hall. Peter hugging Freya. 

He felt a slight pang of hurt, wanting to just take his right, and head out the exit. But he couldn’t be that selfish. He slowly made his way down the hall, using the railing to help slightly.