Chapter Text
Fire and the smell of burning flesh were the first things that Graves thought of when he woke up after the explosion. He was lying at an awkward angle, legs pinned under the dashboard of the tank, leaving him hanging out at an angle, his bay wings touching the ground. He could feel his wings smoldering, smoking from the burning debris surrounding him. As he blinked his eyes open, he realized also, that his arms were pinned under the tank, leaving him completely immobile and at the mercy of gravity and the fire that surrounded him. He started to try to thrash around, trying to dislodge any limb from the tank. He franticly beat his wings, trying to get some air to propel his body forward. As soon as he did that the flames rose higher, and higher around him
He tried to open his mouth to scream, but all that came out was a croak, his throat coated with ash and dust. He tried to blink away the tears that were pooling in his eyes and tried to make a plan. What were his next steps? Does he keep batting his tawny wings and see if he can get out? Risking the fire fully surrounding him? Before he could even finish these thoughts a loud, ugly groan bellowed from the depths of the tank. And before he could process what had happened, the tank pitched backward and flung him hurtling toward the flaming debris on the ground. Graves tried to scream again, this time a wet scream came out, his mouth slowly filling with blood.
As he pitched backward, Graves was for the first time in years, honestly and truly scared. But even before he could fully process that, his head hit a chunk of flaming rebar and his world went blank.
—-
Price was yelling at Soap when he heard it, the distinct sound of a crash followed by a wet scream coming from the burning tank. He whipped his head around, counting his men. Soap was to his right, he had visuals of Ghost running southwest to Alejandro, but Gaz was nowhere in sight. His blood ran cold, his instincts kicking him, propelling him the quarter mile to the flaming tank. He took deep ragged breaths, trying to will himself to move faster and faster.
Please, please, please let Gaz still be alive he prayed to himself. He blinked away the tears forming, both from the panic and the dust clouding his vision. As he approached the tank, the fire had subsided a bit, leaving glowing embers creating a glowing halo around a silhouette. The body had brown wings. Gaz had brown wings. Price took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, he walked over to the glowing embers and grabbed the body by the shoulders, lifting them in a bridal hold and trying to walk as fast as possible out of the explosion zone. He felt the body under him moving around and he started to regain his senses. He was alive, thank god. Price held him closer and trudged another 100 feet and laid him down. As soon as he did he froze
This was, well this was not Gaz. Gaz was not white, and Gaz did not have a scar on his left cheek. Price looked up to the sky and groaned. He just saved someone who tried to kill them
“Fucking Graves I swear to god” Price took a deep breath and leaned over and turned on his mic.
“Bravo 0-2, is Gaz with you?”
“Uh yes sir, he had been with me the whole time” Soap paused. “Is everything okay sir?” Price rubbed his forehead.
“Yeah everything is okay, I need you to get me a medevac, I found someone”
Price sighed. He looked over Graves, not having the chance before in his panic to find Gaz alive. Graves was in rough shape, his entire left side had been burned, his shirt was almost entirely singened off, most of his torso and shoulder exposed and an angry red, most of it at least 2nd or 1st-degree burns, his forehead was split open. But worst of all was his wings. His wings looked broken and burned beyond repair. Most of the flight bar feathers had burned off, leaving an ugly brown mass with patches of red and bunches of black, charred smoking feathers.
“Fuck” Price muttered under his breath. He started shaking Graves, feeling his breathing becoming slower and more and more ragged, Graves was going to die if he didn't do anything. He gripped his shoulders and shook him. Graves just moved like a rag doll, his head flopping over when he moved him. Price started to get worried now, what Graves did was bad, yes, but he didn't deserve certain death for it.
Price started shaking him frantically now, yelling at him, trying to get him to wake up. “Graves, Graves please I need you to get up, you need to wake up soldier” Without warning, Graves shot up, and looked wildly around before hunching over and vomiting away from Price. Price grimaced and patted his back.”There you go lad, everything is going to be okay”
Graves looked at him like a caged animal, with pure primal fear in his eyes. He flinched away and frantically tried to move away from Price, scared that he was going to kill him. He tried getting up but his legs gave out under him before he could even make the first step. He yelped and tried beating his wings, only to get a bright shock of pain as he only trashed around, aggravating his injuries. He started crying.
“Please don't kill me, I'm sorry I tried to kill Soap I’m sorry please don't kill me Price” He sobbed out. Prices eyes went wide. He hadn't considered that from Graves’s point of view, Price had just dragged him from the wreckage to kill him once and for all. Price put his hands up in surrender
“Look, I'm not going to hurt you, but you are going to hurt yourself if you keep moving like that, you need to stop trashing around and lay down for me,” Price said, trying to soothe Graves like a spooked animal. Graves froze, his eyes switching from Price, to the open field behind him, weighing the pros and cons of making a run for it.
“Please don’t hurt me, I'm sorry” Graves falls to his knees and puts his face in his hands, resigning himself to whatever Price has in store for him. Price looks at him and his heart starts to break for him. He walks towards him and kneels down beside him.
“Can you lay down on your back for me? I need you to try to take deep breaths while we wait for evac.” Graves flinches but nods, curling up, trying to protect himself from his perceived threat of Price. Price grimaces and fishes a water bottle out of his pack to offer to Graves. He shakes his head and tries to bury it in his bicep. Price huffs a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Graves you need to drink, You are getting dehydrated” Graves looks up at him and hesitantly takes sips of the water. Price smiles back at him, counting the small victories