Chapter Text
[1]
Don’t wanna be forward, don’t want to cross the line
But if I were to crash in this plane tonight
I’d want you to know this
Don’t wanna say too much
Intrude on your space
But if I were to crash and I never made it home
I’d want you to know this
///
The adrenaline had yet to recede. He could still feel his panic crash over him in waves, being swept up in the tsunami of nerves that had come with the recent events. His breathing was shallow and quick – a finger to his carotid artery discovered that his heart was racing, his pulse reaching record-breaking speeds as he tried to come down from the high.
It’s over.
It’s over.
I’m fine.
Was he fine?
It had only been hours since Gaz had dangled from the harness that had been strapped to the helicopter. He could vividly remember being pulled out of the helicopter, yanked by the rough harness attached to his clothes. The slam of his head against the side of the helicopter as gravity pulled him towards his death. The gasp of breath that was pulled out of his lungs as the harness restrained him. The pain of the rope burning and the pull on his chest. The fear that he was going to die, splattered on the concrete, brains dashed on the road. The crushing realization that even though he was dangling from a fucking helicopter, the enemies were still shooting at him.
He had to fight back.
Thankfully, Nikolai had guided the rope, kept him alive through the shitshow as he had dangled in midair, spinning like a rotisserie chicken in the oven at the grocery store.
But he wasn’t done.
Narrowly missing a street sign.
Slamming against the roof of a truck.
He had to fight with a pistol, a rocket launcher, his own assault rifle – hell, he made his stolen truck a fucking weapon.
It hurt so much. The blunt force trauma, the burns, the overuse of muscle.
He wanted to lie down so bad. Just sleep and forget everything for a while.
So why, when they finally got back to the shitty hotel they were staying in while they were traveling, did his body refuse to cooperate with what he wanted to do?
During the flight on the helio, Nikolai and Price had both tried to congratulate him on a job well done, but all he could offer was a stiff smile as he tried to ignore the pain shooting through his body. It was so fucking awful – he never liked being in pain as it is, but he’d learned to endure some bursts of pain. But this was on a whole different level. And underneath it all, his bones and muscles were sore from the overexertion.
He didn’t want to sound like a baby, but it hurt.
As he stood in the bathroom of the shitty hotel room, staring at himself in the mirror, he couldn’t hold it back any longer. All the pain, all of the soreness, it came crashing down like a flimsy house of cards. He had been strong for so long, but he couldn’t do it anymore.
Tears that had long welled up in his eyes finally broke free, streaming down his face. Why did it hurt so bad? God, he was so tired.
And on top of that, they had almost lost Laswell. Kyle didn’t know what they would do without her – Price and himself would be like lost souls in the afterlife.
He watched as the tears created tracks on his face, slowly drying as they created temporary marks of his weakness on his skin. The tears were manifestations of his physical pain, and the absence of his strength. Why couldn’t he be better?
A soft knock at the door ripped Gaz out of his head. He heard a voice outside the door, but the sound of his own rapid breathing obscured any comprehension he may have had.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mirror, staring at his own brown eyes, his own strained muscles, his own failure of a body. Everything hurt.
Gaz’s vision blurred further as more tears clouded his vision. Something, anything, make it stop. He could feel everything too much. The rope burn, the pulled muscles, the probable concussion, the racing of his heart.
Through the mind fog, he didn’t hear the door to his hotel room slowly swing open.
He might not have been able to see through the tears, but he was feeling too much. Overwhelmed, he didn’t hear the creak of the bathroom door as it slowly opened.
A soft voice broke through the fog. “Oh, Kyle…”
He tore his eyes away from the mirror to see the blurred figure of Captain John Price standing in the bathroom door.
Kyle’s chest was still heaving as his lungs attempted to get enough oxygen to the rest of his body. His brain was in overdrive as it tried to register and numb every point of pain. He didn’t have the brain capacity to comprehend Price’s presence. He whimpered softly.
“Kyle, my touch. Yes or no?”
He couldn’t- what? What was Price saying? It was all too much – he couldn’t hear over the pain his body was in. He stared dumbly into space as more tears streamed out of his eyes.
“Kyle?” Price repeated himself. He walked closer to Kyle, taking up more of his blurred vision. He once again spoke with concern evident in his voice. “Blink once for yes, twice for no. Can I touch you?”
Upon hearing Price’s smooth voice, Gaz was able to gather some control over his body, with him being able to somewhat control his breathing. He took a deep inhale, letting his body shake like a leaf in the wind with the exhale. What was the question? Oh right, touch. He slowly blinked once.
If Price’s touch was a blanket, Gaz wanted to be buried on top of five of those. He seemingly couldn’t get enough of Price’s light touches and brushes – pats to the shoulder after missions, nudges in the mess hall – Gaz loved all of them. Even when he wasn’t having a mental breakdown, he sought out Price’s touch as much as he could.
If there was something that could help him now, it was Price’s touch.
Blink once.
Price’s hands slowly reached out and caressed Gaz’s shoulder, and Gaz felt himself melt into the touch. He was still in his dirty work clothes, covered in dust and gunpowder from head to toe. If Price minded, his actions didn’t reveal that.
Slowly, Price’s touch moved from his shoulder to his bicep, kneading the muscle there. Gaz closed his eyes and let out another shuddering, but relieved, sigh.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes, eh?” Price murmured, and Gaz had no choice but to just nod. The old tears on his face were quickly starting to dry and be replaced with new ones, and the deep ache in his bones had started to wear him down. He was more than happy to let Price take control and take care of him in this scenario.
Price peeled off Gaz’s dirty overshirt, slowly lifting it over his head, using his other hand to lift each of Gaz’s arms. He slowly slipped it off Gaz’s body, revealing the light, black material underneath that Gaz used as underclothes for missions.
Keeping his hand on Gaz’s body, Price moved south, keeping his touch present so Kyle knew he didn’t leave. His hand trailed from his shoulder to his hip, and then finally down his leg to his boots.
Price reverently knelt down and untied each boot, lightly lifting Gaz’s feet so he could slowly slip off each boot.
As the pressure from the boots left Gaz’s feet, he felt himself relax slightly. It felt great to not be standing on the hard sole of the boot. If anything, it reminded him that he was no longer trekking across Urzikstan, that he could rest and relax.
It also allowed his sock-covered feet to touch the floor – to remind him he was grounded and safe, not hanging from a “bloody rope”.
Again, Price’s hands slid up his legs to his hips and slowly slipped into Gaz’s waistband.
Gaz’s body went rigid and his eyes wide. Why was Price touching him there?
Price’s hands flew off Gaz’s body as he noticed his change in stature. “Shit, sorry Kyle,” he said quickly.
The absence of Price’s touch made Gaz suddenly feel cold. Price’s touch had been grounding, slowly turning off “Sergeant Garrick” mode and bringing Kyle back to the moment. He’d slowly been regaining his senses – his eyes were clearing up, his tear ducts finally becoming empty – and although his body was still in immense pain, he found that Price’s warm hands made a great distraction.
Gaz brought his hands up from their frozen position at his sides and lightly gripped Price’s wrists. He brought Price’s hands back to his hips, moving them back towards the waistband of his camouflage pants.
“Please,” he whispered.
He felt Price take a deep breath before answering.
“Okay, Kyle.”
Price’s fingers held on to the waistband, slowly moving the pants down as they pooled around Gaz’s legs. He was slightly more coherent, as evidenced by him having the ability to step out of his pants, leaving him in his dirty underwear.
Once his pants were removed and placed in the corner of the bathroom along with his other gear, Price placed his hands back on Gaz’s shoulders. The heat emanating off of them felt like a spa, warming and soothing Gaz’s tired muscles, allowing him to finally relax. He let out a satisfied sigh when Price started rubbing small circles into his shoulders.
“Do you want to shower? I will warn you, the water isn’t warm,” Price said. Gaz answered with a small shake of his head.
“Price…” Kyle whispered. He felt tears prick the corner of his eyes again.
“What’s wrong, Kyle?”
“It hurts.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.”
Price hummed and moved his hands down to Kyle’s biceps. “How can I help?”
“Just…” Gaz hesitated before stepping forward and laying his head on Price’s chest. He felt Price slightly stiffen, his hands tightening on his biceps, before relaxing his body, allowing Gaz to just lay there for a second. He closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh.
Price kept his hands in the same position, still lightly rubbing circles there. He was silent, but Gaz was content to sit in the silence. He was so tired, so sore, so willing to just fall asleep there with his cheek to Price’s chest, his arms slightly wrapped around him.
They stood there for a few moments, just soaking in each other's presence in the tiny bathroom. The sound of Price’s heartbeat served as light background noise, and simultaneously provided more distractions from the pain. Gaz felt Price’s chest move slightly every now and then, likely to him opening his mouth and closing it. The poor man was speechless.
A few more moments passed before Price finally spoke again.
“You’re going to be okay, Kyle. The mission is over. You’re safe.”
Gaz nodded into Price’s chest, essentially nuzzling the fabric on the man's chest. He could feel himself getting drowsy, the emotional and physical exertion catching up with him. The pain was still present, but Price’s warmth had worked wonders, making it somewhat bearable for the time being.
“Let’s get you to bed, okay Kyle?” came Price’s voice by his ear, low and full of admiration. Gaz nodded again before pushing himself off Price’s chest, opening his eyes to take in the man in front of him.
God, he is beautiful.
Price led Gaz to the dingy bed in the hotel room, watching him practically collapse on the bed. If Gaz had been more awake, he would’ve asked Price to stay with him to be a personal heater, but he didn’t do that.
Plus, it would’ve made his teeny crush on his captain much more apparent.
Gaz hated the feeling of emptiness and cold, but that’s the only way he could describe how he felt after Price’s hands had left him. The pain was still a dull thrum, no longer sharp shots of pain up his body. At least he was able to sleep.
As he slipped into unconsciousness, he heard Price mutter a quick “be right back” before slipping out the hotel door.
-
When Gaz woke up, he knew he wasn’t alone.
He just had the feeling that someone’s eyes were on him.
He slowly opened his eyes and scanned what he could see of the room, which wasn’t much. Apparently, he moved a shit ton in his sleep, because he ended up shoving his entire face into the below-average pillow.
In a quick move, he quickly sat up and spun around in bed to face the rest of the room, and likely the intruder.
He sighed in relief when he realized it was just Price sitting in one of the chairs dispersed throughout the room. He’d been scrolling through his phone with a paper plate on his lap and one on the table next to him.
What was on the plates?
Price looked up from his phone, noticing that Gaz was awake. “Oh, good. Welcome back to the land of the living, lad.”
Gaz mumbled a thanks before focusing on the plate on the table next to Price. It had multiple brown shapes on it, and once Gaz realized that it was food, his stomach grumbled. When was the last time he had eaten? He couldn’t remember.
Price noticed Gaz’s curiosity and grabbed the plate, bringing it over to Gaz, who chuckled.
“Breakfast in bed, eh Captain?”
Price raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. “Breakfast in bed, Sergeant? No, these are pancakes for dinner.” Price returned to his chair, picked one up from his own plate, and took a bite. “You only slept for about two hours. It’s almost midnight.”
Gaz looked at him, dumbfounded. “Pancakes for dinner?” he repeated.
Price shrugged, suddenly interested on his own plate. “I found a kitchen in the lobby and asked if I could use it. Pancakes are one of the few things I know how to make.” That made sense. As soldiers, they didn’t get many home cooked or creative meals. Therefore, he had no reason to learn how to make anything else besides simple things. Like pancakes.
Price’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips turned downwards. “Do you not like pancakes?” He sounded worried.
“Oh no, Cap, I love pancakes. I was just surprised, is all,” Gaz said. He wasn’t lying, either. Pancakes were one of his favorite breakfast items. He remembered he had almost kissed the cook at the mess hall when she had announced that there were pancakes one day in the morning. Soap had teased him for it, joking that pancakes were the only thing to turn him straight. Even he had to laugh at that one.
Price nodded and continued to eat the pancakes on his plate.
They ate in comfortable silence, Gaz sitting up in bed and Price in one of the chairs, eating their pancakes. It felt so domestic – it made Gaz laugh to think that they were fighting a terrorist organization literally a few hours ago.
When Price finished his last pancake, he cleared his throat.
“Are you feeling better?”
Gaz slowly did a quick sit-rep of his body. There was still some underlying pain when he moved his limbs, and the rope burns on his chest and back felt slightly raw, but he didn’t feel terrible. He was sore beyond all belief, but at least he could move. He threw Price a thumbs up and a cheeky smile.
“Feeling good, Cap.”
Price nodded. “Good.” He picked up a napkin and wiped his hands free of pancake residue. “You did well yesterday, Kyle. You deserved the rest.” Price opened his mouth to say more, but he quickly shut it again. Gaz might have been overthinking things, but he looked a little nervous.
“Thanks,” Gaz said, quickly shoveling his last pancake in his mouth. He chewed for a little bit before looking at Price with a raised eyebrow. “Where do we go from here?”
Price perked up a little bit, clearly happy to be talking about something related to the current mission. That was interesting to Gaz. He got nervous when having a normal conversation with Gaz, but when it came to his profession, he was as cool as a cucumber.
I’m not that hard to talk to, am I?
He listened quietly while Price explained that now they had Laswell back, they could start the next phase of the plan with Farah and Alex. They were going to help Farah and her forces face Al-Qatala, and once they were finished with that, they would make their way back to the home base. The end was in sight for them now.
Gaz nodded. “When do we roll out?”
Price checked his watch. “Wheels up in 10 hours.”
Gaz smiled and laid back in bed. “Enough time for a little power nap. I recommend you do the same, Cap. Your old bones need the boost.”
Price sputtered to Gaz’s delight, and Gaz laughed, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Alright, stand down Sergeant,” Price said, standing to exit the room. He started walking towards the door, but he hesitated walking out. He quickly turned around and walked towards the bed, holding out a fist to Gaz.
Gaz was confused at first, but realization filled him and he gave Price a fist bump, mirroring the one they had shared when in the helio at the beginning of their rescue mission.
“Get some rest, Kyle,” Price said, and Gaz hoped there was admiration, or maybe even love hidden behind those words.
“You too, Cap.”
Price went to exit the room and Gaz went to close his eyes, but then he remembered his empty plate was still on his bed. Eh, he could throw it out later. But Price had given him the plate of pancakes. He should probably thank him.
“Oh, Price?” Gaz said. Price turned around with his eyebrows raised and arms crossed.
“Thanks for the pancakes.”
Price smiled.
“Anytime, Kyle.”