A/N: Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, a66 - write a fic centered on one character's view on something or some place. A rather morbid something, but there you go.

until the cocoon unravels (he'll sleep inside)

It gets whiter as he sinks.

That's strange, he thinks. He's no photographer but the light source hangs high in the sky and it's getting further and further away. He knows because the car's weighed down and he's struggling against the belt to no avail. He knows because it's growing colder and his limbs are growing sluggish and his sight's losing colour… except the white.

He reaches for the white.

It swathers him slowly. Makes him slightly warmer – or maybe that's just the hypothermia: his senses leaving him. Or maybe it's the burning in his lungs spread like wildfire, deep in his chest where the cold water can't go.

Or perhaps he's already left his mouth and throat to slip open and let it in, and the light is the afterlife calling for him. Perhaps this warm blanket around him is from the rowers letting him drip into their little wooden boat as they pass through the gates. Or perhaps he's saved after hope's swam away and when he wakes, his body will scream as it remembers how to feel again.

But for now, it's only white and tepid and lulling him gently but firmly into its cocoon…

So he'll sleep, till he remains the corpse or awakens as the butterfly.