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The sky was a bruised violet, bleeding orange and gold across the horizon. Bob sat on the rooftop ledge; his knees pulled loosely to his chest.
John stepped out onto the roof, arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t announce himself, but Bob glanced back anyway.
"You ever wonder." Bob said, his voice calm. "When I’m supposed to see a sunrise like this?"
John raised an eyebrow. "You mean because you're almost a god, or because you don’t sleep like a normal person?"
Bob cracked a faint smile. “Both, maybe. Sentry doesn’t notice it. And The Void—well, he wouldn't bother with a sunrise. But me?" He looked back at the sky. "I like remembering I'm still... human enough to care."
John walked over and crouched beside him. “You always get like this before a mission?”
Bob chuckled. “Only the big ones.”
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes.
John nudged him with his shoulder. “So when are you gonna let me ride you?”
Bob turned to him, brow raised. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” John smirked. “You fly, I ride shotgun. Full-on Superman and Lois Lane moment. Only more muscle, less romance.”
“Less romance?” Bob echoed, amused. “That’s disappointing.”
John’s grin faltered a little.
Bob tilted his head. “I’d let you. If you asked.”
“I just did.”
“No, that was a joke wrapped in deflection.” Bob tapped a finger against John's chest. “Ask me like you mean it.”
Walker looked at him and then shook his head with a laugh. "You're gonna be the death of me, Bob."
Bob stood, stretching. “Yeah. I am.” He offered a hand to pull John up. “So, you gonna ask me or not?”
John took it.
“Let’s save it for tomorrow.” He said.
Rain clung to the edges of the canopy. Bob's casket was sealed, but there wasn't even a body to bury, just an empty box and a plaque with his name.
Walker stood apart from the others. Yelena, Ava, Alexei and Bucky were there, but none dared to speak to him.
He couldn't take his eyes off the casket. He'd seen men die. He'd buried his best friend. He knew grief. But he felt absolutely shattered.
When the mourners dispersed, John stayed behind.
“You said nothing could kill him.” He said, not turning around.
Doctor Strange’s voice came behind him. “Almost nothing.”
Walker faced him, eyes wild. “That wasn’t almost nothing. That was Doom. And you—you stood there. You watched it happen.”
“I did.” Strange admitted. “Because there was no stopping it.”
Wanda stepped out from beside a tree. “He didn’t just die, John. He unraveled. His energy—his soul—was dispersed across the dimensions. There’s no core left to bring back.”
John’s breath was sharp now, chest rising fast. “You’ve reversed timelines. Wanda’s rewritten reality. Don’t tell me this can’t be fixed.”
Strange sighed and raised one hand. A projection shimmered between them: Bob’s death, captured in flickering golden strands. It showed the flare of cosmic light, the black hole swallowing Doom, the final pulse as Bob’s form dissolved into atoms.
“This is an absolute point in our timeline.” Strange said. “A fixed event. Tampering with it would fracture reality beyond repair. His death… holds everything together.”
John stared at the projection like it had punched him. “So that’s it? He dies, the world survives, and I’m just supposed to go on?”
“No.” Wanda said quietly. “You’re supposed to grieve. And remember him. And live in the world he died for.”
“Bullshit.” John snapped. “You don’t get it. He wasn’t just some weapon or ticking time bomb. He—he mattered. He mattered to me.”
Silence followed. Strange and Wanda exchanged a glance.
Then Strange nodded slightly. “There’s one thing I can offer.”
“You can’t save him,” Wanda said, stepping closer. “We want you to understand that. This isn’t a secret backdoor. This isn’t a resurrection.”
Strange continued: “But I can send you back. One day. Twenty-four hours before the invasion. You’ll have until dawn. After that, you return—whether you want to or not.”
“You’ll see him.” Wanda added. “Alive. But the moment you try to change the outcome, the spell shatters. You’ll lose everything.”
“You have until tonight to decide.” Strange said. “But once it starts, it can’t be reversed. You’ll be pulled back just as Doom arrives. No matter what.”
John nodded slowly. “What happens to me when I come back?”
“You’ll remember everything."
John looked back at the casket.
“I’ll do it.” he said.
Strange raised his hands. Wanda joined him. A golden circle of glyphs began to form in the air.
Walker watched as light curled around him.
Wanda’s final words echoed in his mind:
"Say goodbye. Nothing more."
Time was folding in around John like a vice. The hourglass had flipped the moment he arrived, and now the sand was running out.
Bob leaned back, resting on his palms. “You’re quieter than usual,” he said. “Not gonna give me one of your epic pre-battle speeches?”
John didn’t answer. He just looked at him. At the curve of his smile. The creases at the corners of his eyes.
“You’re not really here for the mission, are you?” Bob asked softly.
John’s mouth twitched. “You always were too damn perceptive.”
Bob sat up straighter. “So? What is this? You’re acting like this is goodbye.”
John looked away.
Bob’s voice dropped. “John.”
“I came back.” John said. “I came back to say something I should’ve said before. Should’ve said a hundred times.”
Bob waited, watching him.
John finally met his eyes. “You die tomorrow.”
Bob didn’t flinch.
John swallowed. “Doctor Doom hits the Watchtower. You go full Sentry. But it’s not enough. You burn yourself out stopping him. Not even a body left. Just... light, and then nothing.”
Bob was quiet for a long time. Then, simply: “How?”
“Doctor Strange. Wanda. Some spell. They let me come back. Just for tonight. Twenty-four hours before the end. I don’t get to save you. I just get to say goodbye.”
“You’re not surprised,” John muttered.
“I’ve always known something like that would happen.” Bob gave a small, sad smile. “The kind of power I carry… it’s not meant to last. It was always going to burn me alive.”
John shook his head. “No. You don’t get to be okay with this.”
Bob’s smile faltered. “I’m not. But I’ve made peace with it.”
“I haven’t.”
Silence again.
Finally, John spoke again. “I hated you sometimes, you know. For being so… good, so selfless."
“I never wanted to.” Bob said. “I just didn’t know how to stop.”
“I could’ve helped. I wanted to help. But you kept pushing me away.”
Bob looked at him. “And you kept letting me.”
John laughed bitterly. “God. You’re really gonna die and still be right about everything?"
Bob stood slowly, brushing ash from his pants. “Why did you come back?”
John rose too. “To tell you the truth.”
“Then tell me.”
“I love you.”
Bob’s eyes didn’t widen. He didn’t look shocked. He just nodded, slowly, like he’d known.
“I love you too." He said.
"I'm so stupid, I wished I've said it sooner." John said.
"Me too."
The silence after that wasn’t awkward. It was worse. It was full of all the things they’d never said, never done. Full of mornings and tomorrows that never came.
John stepped forward. “Come with me.”
Bob blinked. “What?”
“Right now. Just go. Disappear. Leave with me. We can vanish before it happens.”
Bob reached up and touched John’s chest, right over his heart. “You know I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Screw Doom. Screw Strange. Screw Wanda. Screw fixed points. We’ll find a way—”
“You already know what happens if you try to change it.”
John’s voice broke. “Then let me die with you.”
Bob shook his head. “Then who remembers me? Who tells the others it wasn’t for nothing?”
His hand lingered on John’s chest.
“You're the one who keeps going."
John dropped his head, pressing his forehead to Bob’s. “I’m so tired of being the one who survives.”
Bob’s hand slid up to his cheek. “I know.”
They stayed like that for a long moment.
Finally, Bob whispered. “I’m glad you came back.”
John closed his eyes.
A chime rang in the air—Strange’s spell activating. The magic starting to pull.
“No—no, not yet—”
“You don’t get to stay.” Bob whispered. “That’s the cost.”
John looked at him one last time. “I’ll carry you. Always.”
“Then I’m not really gone.”
The light took him.