He's gone, in his sleep.
It was two o'clock in the morning when he got the call. A notice rather than an emergency call.
Only soon enough to see Bucky for the one last time before they'd bury him.
He was given 5 minutes, alone with Bucky.
Sorry.
That was the first thing he wanted to say, but shame sealed his lips tightly.
I can't lose you.
That was another thing he was about to tell Bucky. But he never got the chance.
Don't...don't leave me.
It was all too late.
Then he just sat there next to Bucky, since that was the only thing he could do.
Bucky was still in that white tank-top, same as the day he was frozen, again.
Purely white.
The cloth around heart area stained by dried blood, as a rose bloomed there.
He's gone, in his sleep.
He was sitting next to him, as that was the only he could do.
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