CHAPTER ELEVEN: grieve

[ↂ■■ↂ]𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗[ↂ■■ↂ]

MALCOLM SALVATORE LAWRENCE COULDN'T LOOK AWAY FROM HIS HANDS.

"Sam!" Rodney yelled, before noticing Malcolm, who stared down at his hands again. "Malcolm, are you okay?" Rodney ran to him, or tried to. Ran to him as much as he could in the war machine.

Malcolm waited. But, nothing happened. "I couldn't take away his pain. Sam, he's-he's gone."

"Malcolm, What happened?" Rodney questioned the werewolf who wouldn't look away from his hands.

"I couldn't take away their pain." Malcolm repeated.

Rodney looked at him, confused. Then a look of realization came over his face. "Malcolm, where is Sam?"

"I couldn't save him."

[ↂ■■ↂ]𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗[ↂ■■ↂ]

"What is this?" Rhodney asked, looking around, as so many members were now gone. "What the he'll is happening?"

"Oh god..." Steve lowly said, shocked by the events that had happened.

"We lost." Malcolm spoke, numbly in disbelief of losing his best friend, who was like a brother to him. Was more of a family to him then his blood family.
He couldn't believe he had lost Sam.

He lost his friends.
He had lost Bucky.

[ↂ■■ↂ]𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗[ↂ■■ↂ]

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