Dripping blood and clutching his wound as he stumbled down the hallway, Birdie was observant as ever. It was very quiet, but the occasional shout from a pirate searching for Birdie and his allies could be heard every now and again. "This blood trail is going to give me away, fuck." He applied more pressure to the wound and groaned quietly in pain hoping to halt the bleeding more. In his other hand that also was soaked in blood and dirtied was an equally blood soaked Cerberus. Luckily it was loaded with the only two bullets he had left. This was thanks to Verde, though he probably wish he had tossed those bullets when he had tossed the rest of the ammo in his fit of rage.

Thinking about the whole tantrum Verde threw, Birdie understood where he was coming from, he truly did. The thing was Birdie didn't feel he could afford to take other people's lives into consideration when it came to pursuing what he wanted. He wasn't sure if such a way of thinking was sound or not, but at the moment he didn't care, all that mattered was his vendetta for Cervantes. Even when he tried to make himself feel guilty by thinking of the image of Porter's corpse, he couldn't find it in him. He was discomforted and settled by this at the same time. Giving himself a sigh of pity, he knew if there was a God he was laughing at how tragic of an existence Birdie was living. Born to shitty parents in poverty and having to fight for all he wanted. Now when he was finally gaining some ground in life, he was losing something else.

Dismissing his thoughts for a while, he began to walk slowly when he saw a door coming up in the never ending hallway that was slightly cracked open. Figuring Cervantes got careless in the chaos of things and didn't close it all the way, Birdie pressed himself against the wall and crept closer and closer tot he door carefully. "Come in, I know you're out there." Cervantes' voice called out to him, more deflated than usual. Hesitating for a moment, he kept his guard up, but entered the room as directed. What he saw was nothing but Cervantes sitting in a chair that was in front of a desk, although he had turned the chair to face the single door of the room. This put the desk to his back and Birdie in front of him.

"From day one I knew you weren't a normal one. You know the one's I'm talking about? Think they know the in's and out's of things and end up getting played out." Birdie raised his gun level with Cervantes' body and in response the man raised his hands in a submissive manner. "Woah woah, at least let a man get his last few words out. You got me here. No gun, no lackeys, just you, me, and your gun. Hear me out." He grinned nastily as he said this which pissed Birdie off even further, but he figured he had nothing to lose.

"But I knew you weren't like those idiots and I thought I could shake off the rust and outplay a young fella one last time before I cashed in and was out for good. Given that we're here and you've got your gun pointed at me, I was obviously wrong." Birdie scoffed impatiently before speaking. "So what are you trying to get at. Patting me on the back before this is all over or what?" Cervantes laughed and shook his head to the side while dropping his hands to his lap where Birdie could see them. "Lets call it one final gambit. I'm too much of a sore loser to not try for something one last time." This time it was Birdie's turn to laugh at what Cervantes had to say. "Why would I be interested in swallowing a tapeworm?" Cervantes shrugged and then leaned back in his chair.

"While you are smart, there are a few more tricks of the trade you don't know and I could teach you. Of course this would all be under your conditions. Make me a prisoner, whatever the case may be, I'm just looking to get out of this scenario with my life if I'm being transparent with you." Birdie nodded and while he admired the honesty, it was obvious what Cervantes was trying to do without needing the explanation. "This is the part where I say "tricks of the trade like what?" and you bait me right?" Cervantes gave a disheartened sigh and looked around the room as if the words he was looking for were plastered on one of the walls. "You're too smart for your own good Birdie, but I'm sure you'll learn one day. The gun's in your hand, whenever you're ready." Just as Birdie began to apply pressure on the trigger, from behind the desk behind Cervantes a bomb had went off and wiped out the room.

This bomb was the single bomb Cervantes had stole and the pirates were talking about earlier, the prize for killing Birdie. Perhaps since the prize was used to attempt to kill him or by the graces of a God, he was spared. In critical condition surely, but spared nonetheless. When he came to he found himself outside the estate bouncing up and down as if he were walking, but he was sure he wasn't. Willing his head that felt extremely heavy to look around he saw a mass of glowing light off in the distance. He had no idea what it could be, but he stared at it for a long moment. "What's that light over there?" His voice was a faint whisper due to his lack of strength, but he was still heard. "The explosion had set the estate on fire. That place is burning to the ground." The voice was vaguely familiar to Birdie in his disoriented stupor. "Who is that talking?" "Someone who should have left you for dead." Birdie thought it silence for a while as he continued to bob up and down and listen to the snow crunch. It was then that he thought to wonder how he was moving without walking only to realize he was on someone's back.

"I'm good to walk." He spoke in his same weak whisper, but he went ignored. He just figured he got no answer, because his voice was so weak so he said it again, but a little louder. "I'm good to walk." The person carrying him stopped for a moment, but only to readjust and fixate Birdie on his back. "No, you're too weak at the moment. You're burned over majority of your body. I doubt the doctors want to treat those burns and frost bite from you walking in the snow barefoot." The words took a moment to register, but when they did not only did the reality of him being burned so wickedly set in, but the pain ravaged his whole body causing him to yell out as loud as he could in pain.

Bucking a bit wildly from the pain, Birdie fell off of Verde's back and into the snow, the cold only irritating the wounds more and causing him to be in even more pain. "God dammit, would you sit still, you're going to end up hurting yourself even more." Verde went on trying to subdue Birdie for minutes before he actually got him back on his back. The only reason that was possible was because he had lost consciousness again. In peace and quiet and a bit remorseful for going back for Birdie after his actions, Verde carried him to a hospital on Drum Island.