Price was a proud man. Always flew with Gaz, always flexed about flying, always was proud of himself for his wings.

So you knew that this botched mission hurt.

Price had lost a wing, rendering him unable to fly anymore. You knew this hurt him deeply. The lieutenant, Ghost, was place in charge while Price recovered. You could yell this would always leave a mark on Price, though.

You currently had him resting his head on shoulder. He was lost in his thoughts as you absent-mindedly tracing his back with your fingers. They accidentally grazed across the still healing and bandaged area his wing had been and you felt his muscles bunch up. He took a shaky deep breath, smoke faintly curling in your vision from it, as he snuggled closer to you.