He died with that easy, fun-loving smile on his face.

Time seemed to slow down. Objects hurtled past me, but I didn't notice, didn't—couldn't—care. All that mattered was him.

He saw me as he fell, saw me running towards him—at least, I was trying to run. Despite how slowly everything else seemed to be going, I couldn't make my legs move, dammit! Get to him! His eyes met mine and he shook his head like, I know what you're gonna do, you idiot. No. Keep fighting. No. That's more important. No no no!

Or maybe I just thought he was telling me that, maybe I was just trying to assuage my already-guilty conscience. Maybe he was really saying, "Come help me! I don't wanna die!"

But then, maybe I was making that up as well. Maybe there wasn't a secret message or hidden meaning.

Maybe he was simply saying good-bye.