The bustling subway station stops for no one as hoards of people rush from stop to stop to get where they are going. Over the intercom, the robotic voice chimes as it signals the next train departing. The dizzying and fluorescent lights are grating for most—for Frenchie—they are a guiding heavenly light of where he must go. The only thought in his mind is to save the supe who is getting hunted by A-train at this very moment.

He must save them from themselves.

He stops in his tracks as he stops at a familiar electronics store—the same soundtrack playing from when he first found the supe. He walks through the edge of the electronics store as he nearly takes down a display due to his inattentiveness. All of his time and energy is focused on rescuing the supe before they hurt themselves.

He crouches down near the table that the traumatized supe is hiding under. They are filthy and on edge, huddling in the corner while their eyes are trained on the one show that gives them an ounce of familiarity. Their irises dart back and forth as they notice Frenchie and get defensive. They're like a wounded animal with their hackles up; their eyes are tortured and petrified of what might happen.

"I'm not here to hurt you." His words are completely true; there is no ounce of maliciousness within them. He continues speaking and tries connecting with you, but realizes that you are non-verbal.

"Can I tell you a secret I never told anybody?" He inquires rhetorically. He keeps his hands in the air and his body language non-threatening.

"When I was a boy, my father, he stole me from Mamma. In Marseilles, middle of the night, just broke in, took me. Kept me with him for years. Hotel after hotel. Every few nights, take me out for a walk. Smoke a Gauloise, tell me he loved me, then..."

He rolls up his pants legs as nasty scars are shown: cigarette burn marks and small knife indentations.

He cuts himself off. "I know what it's like. You aren't a monster. Come with me, and I will take you somewhere safe, mon couer."