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The sky is too gray. The snow around blindingly white. Everything feels so cold that he can´t take a breath.
… end of line
This is it. End, death, whatever you´ll call it, this is it. His thoughts are frozen in pain and cold and he can´t bring himself to regret dying. Dying would make the pain stop, right? No more pain, no more war he never wanted to fight. Just a small, quiet grave.
And yet, the distant sky is still gray. The brightness of the snow hurts his eyes but he doesn´t want to blink. Far, far above is the railway. He can´t really see it, but he knows that it´s out there and that the train is already gone.
I´m with you…
And for once, he´s glad that Steve isn´t with him, is selfishly grateful for this lonely death because it means that Steve is still out there. Still fighting. Still so stubbornly alive, despite everything.
It´s a little solace compared to breathtaking agony but he figures that he deserves any comfort he can get in these last moments. At least he hopes it would only take moments, because the frost is already creeping into his bones and snowflakes cling to his face and there´s no one to brush them away when they melt.
till the-