Tears threaten to spill over as I look at his face. It's so pale. And so calm. I've never seen him this calm. He was always either angry or emotionless. I once saw him look wistful, but that's in the distant past. I remember every moment, every broken promise, and every goodnight. The tears come. I let them.

My hand clasps his lifeless one. He's so cold. The scar that shaped him into what he was no longer looks so frightening. Just sad. A grim reminder of what one act of malice could do to a person. How one act turned the world upside down. My other hand folds over his. A tear falls onto our hands.

I carefully lift up his hand to place it where it belongs. Over his chest, like an old knight in the fairy tales. My knight. Gone forever. I step back. Other White Fang members place the lid on his simple, pine box. They lower him into the ground. I want someone to scream at them to stop, tell us he's alive. No one will and no one does. I throw the roses and belladonna flowers I was clutching into the grave. I hear a thud as they land. Then more thuds as dirt falls atop his final resting place. I kneel down and cry.

No one steps forward to comfort me. I don't blame them. It's my fault he's dead. My fault I'll never be able to say goodnight to him again. Never be able to see his face again. Never know why he looked so wistful that one time.

If I hadn't run away. If I hadn't tried to leave the White Fang he'd still be alive. I had ran, he had followed after me. He had followed me, found me, and tried to convince me to come back. Grimm had come too. He had died protecting me from their claws. I still remember the hoards that had closed in on us, him fighting, taking them down with ease, and my stupid mistake. If he hadn't been watching my back, I would be the one in the ground, not him.

I don't notice when they place the stone to mark his spot, when everyone leaves, when the sun sets. I don't notice any of it. Only when the sun I rising do I get up. I stand up and look toward the sun.

I lift up my hand and place his mask over my eyes. I turn to the sword in my hand. Wilt and Blush. He may have died but his cause didn't. I will not run away. I will fight. For him.

The sun's rays dance on my back as I walk away from his grave. The last night is over. I pause and look at the stone that I will probably see many times in my life.

"Goodnight, Adam."