The sunlight fades in orange hues, and while the warmth of John’s body fades too, he peers skyward. Stars begin pricking through, more beautiful for being the last he’ll see, just as Harry had been beautiful when he’d smiled his last, breathed his last, and John last looked upon him.

A star scrapes a path through the dimming blue, and John wishes upon its silvery trail that he might join Harry in heaven soon.