He had always thought dying was going to be something a little more terrifying, a little more drastic. There would be blood, maybe an explosion or two, and a lot of screaming on his part because there was no man alive who wouldn't be screaming as they waited for the last moment of their life to pass by.
But then, here he was.
The fall from Gipsy had been great, yes, and the pain that came from armor cracking from hitting the water from almost two hundred feet from the air had been mind blowing. The struggle to get to the surface had been painful too. Each wave of his arm and each kick of his legs felt like fighting against the ocean in and of itself. There was no way to win, of course. Yancy was just one speck against the vastness of the seas.
He had given up when he couldn't gasp at air anymore, when there was less oxygen in his mouth and more water each and every time and growing. When his feet and arms grew sluggish and slow and his muscles stopped burning and started to get numb--
That's when he started falling.
And it should have been sickening how easy it had been to simply let himself fall.
But it had been so different from what he had been expecting.
Once his lungs stopped hurting, when his body stopped fighting, when he was just drifting across the sea and down under--it felt peaceful. He should have been afraid of the fact that he was going to disappear forever. His body probably wouldn't even wash up and ashore--the body suit was too heavy for that. He should have been afraid of the fact that he was in the middle of the ocean and there was nothing just hundreds of feet under him.
Light won't even hit the places that he was going to be going.
And that should have made him fearful. It should have made him struggle more and fight for a second chance or pray even that at least he could break the surface. But then the sea changed. And he didn't have to worry about the crushing waves above him or the fact that he was still drowning.
Falling--
Falling--
Falling--
--turned into floating.
He was as light as a feather. And even though it was getting darker all around him, Yancy could still see the lights and flashes above him where the water was still dotted with sparks from wires and the fight of monster and metal. Gipsy was still beautiful, even when half of her was gone, and the fire showed even past all the many feet of ocean between them. And even the kaiju blue was glowing sweetly, almost soft and calming and nostalgic like the old nightlights his brother and him used to have littered in their bedrooms.
As his thoughts slowed, a singular one caught all of what's left of him and Yancy can't help but smile when the waters above him looked like stars, glowing bright in small and big sparks.
And he thinks to himself that even in the darkness, no matter how far it goes, there's going to be some form of light. Even when he's gone--even when it's been years passing by and wounds are still--
So--
Very--
Raw--
He hopes his brother can still remember that people will forever live in memories and memories were like stars. Even when it looks like they can't be seen, they will always be there. Yancy will be like that too, curled up safe and soft and floating in Raleigh's memories.
And one day--he hopes his brother remembers how to look up again even in the darkest of moments.