little bird // r.keene

ii. heavy bags.

It had been a week since the fight at the school, each day feeling that little fraction longer than the last. It had been a  week since Wren had left the bookshop. It had been a week since she had been hiding Robby from the cops who were still searching. It had been a week since she had spoken to anyone from the dojo. It had been a week since she had received a good night's sleep. It had been a week since Miguel had been in the hospital, in a coma.

She'd been watching the news... Miguel was in the intensive care unit. The professionals didn't know when he was going to wake up and Wren couldn't even bear the thought- the image of him lying there with his eyes sewn shut, alone and afraid in the dark.

Every time she closed her eyes she was there once more, reaching out for him, and then, equally as fast, letting him go. Even now, as she bagged her groceries as if nothing was wrong, the image burned behind her eyes, engraved in her soul.

"Thank you." She uttered to the cashier, ignoring her lingering stare at Wren's sleepless eyes, and left promptly. She left the store and began walking home, back to where she knew Robby was, watching the clock, waiting for her to return.
Mr James had heard what had happened. He didn't talk to her about it. He knew, when she was ready, she would, and Wren was thankful for nothing more.

So, with a bag in each hand, Wren picked up her pace a little, desperate to make sure Robby was alright, that he was still there- that he wouldn't try and run, and in doing so, leave her all alone.

His nightmares were getting worse and Wren felt so powerless each night as she held him after he called out in his sleep but that was all she could do- He liked to sleep to forget about what had happened, a luxury Wren did not share since her dreams only served as permanent reminder- she couldn't change the past despite how much she wished she could.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" A voice called out and Wren's head snapped to where she had been staring at the sidewalk to find a man perched on a small wall next to her, she had been so engrossed in her own thoughts. Regrets. Self-reflections. That she hadn't even noticed him sitting there, smoking a cigar.

Kreese.

Wren swallowed, her throat suddenly as dry as sandpaper and thought about stopping in her strides to stand and face him but something in her stomach twisted, something she couldn't quite place and instead she found herself still walking. That feeling in her stomach, though she didn't know it at the time... had been a blistering anger.  "I'm taking some time off." Wren found herself telling him before swiftly continuing to walk down the street. It was the early hours of the evening, as the sun sank lower in the sky, the sidewalk was bathed in the warm light of golden hour.

"And training? Taking some time off from that too?" Kreese called out to her, he was on his feet now and keeping a steady pace a few steps behind her, his legs being longer than hers meant he could keep up with ease, much to her dismay.

"I'm not coming back Kreese so do yourself a favour and don't waste either of our time." Wren called out to him, twisting her head to spy him behind her in her line of view. She swallowed hard.

"For the others or for you?" She scoffed at that, hearing his steps behind her "You have talent, Evans..." He continued and Wren realised he was only going to continue to follow her home, straight to her safe place. Straight to Robby. So she stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk and turned curtly to face him, Kreese stopped an arms length infront of her, taking another drag of his cigar which remained clenched between his thumb, middle and forefinger. "I don't want to watch you throw it away because LaRusso's delinquent lost his temper..."

Wren shook her head firmly, setting down her bags and pointing a finger directly at Kreese's chest. "Don't talk about him like that." She snapped, barely hearing herself, her blistering rage coming to a boil in her throat.

And Kreese cocked his head, something immediately clicking in his mind.

Wren was the reason the cops couldn't find Johnny's boy.

After Wren missed her third training session, John Kreese had gone through her file to find her home address to go and talk her back into training. When he found nothing he wasn't sure what to do, Johnny was gone from Cobra Kai so he didn't know where to go for the answers he wanted.

Hawk had been very reluctant to even talk about her. Even her name coming from Kreese's own mouth made him sick. But after a small talk- Kreese got what he needed. Hawk refused to give up her home address but instead gave the name of The Bookshop where she worked.

But despite this, he decided not show up at her front door- or rather shop door- just yet. He knew Wren was on edge, they all had been but Kreese knew how quick her temper was. Hell, he had seen her wrath up close when someone crossed her. And right now, without her at the dojo and Miguel in the hospital, Hawk was his best fighter.

"You have no clue what happened, Kreese. None. You weren't there so stop acting like you know every detail... You don't." Wren told him firmly, meeting his eyes and he watched as her eyelids flickered.

"Your teammates gave me a thorough run down of the events, Evans." He told her calmly and watched as Wren sharply shook her head, her eyes softening and her lips curled up in a bittersweet smile. One that said she knew more to the story.

"You and I both know there is more to the truth, John." His name sounded soft on her lips, she said it as if they had been friends for years- Kreese's eyebrows drew together, highlighting his confusion. "They weren't there at the top of the stairs, before Miguel fell." Her eyes met his and despite her smile, Kreese saw small flickers of tears burning behind her eyes. "It's not Robby's fault." She inhaled a sharp breath, "It's mine."

Kreese cocked his head. His students had told him an abundance of tall stories, all individual from their perspectives of the fight. But none had suggested Wren was responsible for Miguel's fall. They saw Miguel let Robby go. They all saw Robby kick him. They all heard Wren scream, Miguel fall and Wren grab him. But none had said it was her fault.

"That's not what I heard." Kreese told her.

"Well, that's what happened." She tore her eyes away, gazing down the sidewalk but it was empty, there was hardly anyone around, "I told Miguel to let Robby go." Wren swallowed, wiping away a tear threatening to spill. She wouldn't cry in front of him. She wouldn't. She refused. "None of them were at the top of the stairs, they didn't hear me. I'm the one who told Miguel to let Robby go. It wasn't Johnny's fault. Or Robby's. It was mine." She confessed and Wren couldn't describe how good it felt to tell someone what had been plaguing her the past week. "It was me."

But Kreese's next words hit her like a brick.

"That may be true Evans, but you also saved his life." It was Wren's turn to look so entirely confused, he might as well have been talking in a different language. So Kreese continued, "Miguel landed on his feet because you grabbed him." Kreese said, pausing so she could grasp his words with full comprehension, "If he had landed on his back or his head...He could have died." Wren felt her chest sink, her eyes fell to her feet and her knees felt numb.

"Wren, because of you. Miguel has a chance of waking up."