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Even after a whole week, the dirt on the ground was still fresh. There hadn’t been a new snowfall since that day which meant that Technoblade had to see the mound of dirt nestled between the trees every time he looked through the kitchen window. It hurt more each time to have to see it but he knew that disturbing the snow around the grave would land him in his own - courtesy of a certain angel of Death who had an odd appreciation for landscaping.
It must have looked peculiar to any passers-by, not that they had any ever, as if the ground had sprouted a spot overnight. He just couldn’t bring himself to finish carving the gravestone. He had started it but finishing it and actually placing it in the ground would make it final, solidifying in the man’s mind that this was all real. That there was no going back.
Well, he already knew it was real. This was most certainly not his first run-in with death and it would absolutely not be his last so Techno knew that just ignoring it couldn’t make them come back but a small part of him, deep down somewhere, still had that naïve piece of innocent hope left. That maybe if he pretended it never happened he could go about his life as before and it wouldn’t be any different - there would be no bear shaped hole in his heart or missing from the rug.
He missed Steve.
Technoblade didn’t miss many things, enjoying his independence and holding the firm belief that he could never get sick of his own company. That had been made much harder in recent years with the addition of certain people in his life, but still he didn’t often find himself wishing for their company or mourning their absence, however temporary it may be. Friends didn’t need to spend all their time together to be close, especially if one of them would be happier somewhere else at that moment. It just made the time they spent together all that much better.
But that dumb polar bear had done something to him and he didn’t even notice. The wild animal that he had domesticated completely by accident, worming its way into his heart. He had found Steve as an adult, smaller than expected but otherwise healthy. The bear had followed him home and despite Technoblade’s best efforts, never left.
Steve was lazy. He wouldn’t hunt for his own food after being taken in, and instead of sleeping outside with the other polar bears, Steve would recline in front of the fireplace and take up all the floor space. He had done this so often that the rug had been covered in white fur and there was an outline of his body on the floor.
Although it had been a week, Techno still walked pressed up against the wall when walking past the fire as a force of habit so as to not step on the bear’s limbs even though they were no longer there. He hadn’t cleaned the rug yet either, the house would smell wrong if he did. That job could wait a few more days.
For now he would stand at his sink, staring out his window at the forest, hands paused midway through cleaning a mug. He would stand in silence and pretend that he wasn’t constantly replaying Steve’s final breath in his mind.
For a little longer he would kid himself into thinking that Steve had just gone into hibernation early. That the grave was simply a den the bear had dug himself to be comfortable during his sleep.
The more he held onto that thought the more he hated it. He knew Steve wasn’t hibernating and there was no way he would have dug himself a den to do so. And anyway, Techno would feel more than a bit silly for mourning his bear having a nap.
He comforted himself with the new thought that Kristin would take good care of Steve. She always had a soft spot for animals.