"It doesn't matter." His voice goes flat, watching the ice get chipped away. "He's dead. ... I found out he was dying from the stuff he was using to suppress his abilities, and then a member of my group that got kicked out showed up and was going to shoot me since I wasn't planning on living through the night anyway. And then the other guy pushed me out of the way."

... He's still not sure what to think about that. "... He had the nerve to save me after what he did." His voice shakes, and he sniffs - no. He can't cry. He has to be strong. He has to be an adult. He can't cry about this, no matter how frustrated he feels.