Note: Yeah, the title of this is directly influenced by Flayed Horses. *bows to Maldoror*

"Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside."

      - Loreena McKennitt, The Stolen Child

Bound Part 16
Guernica

Mary opened the door carefully, a little at a time, until it was open just a crack. The room was dark, but the tiny line of light from the doorway fell on the bed on the other side of it. The two pilots were lying on it, tangled together. Asleep.

The dark-haired one -Heero, she remembered- laid next to Duo, legs almost drawn up to his chest, fists clenched even in his sleep. Duo was turned towards his back, his face almost hidden. Their faces were flushed and bruised, hair matted with sweat. Heero's arm was in a sling, curled close to his body. In sleep, they looked like little kids, almost as young as her.

She blushed a little. It seemed like something intimate, looking in on them like this. It felt as if she had walked in on her parents having sex. She was absently aware that was something they sometimes did. Or maybe as if she had caught her brother in the shower. Some mixture of the two.

Suddenly, a hard hand fell on her shoulder, whirling her around. Another reached past her to close the door firmly and lock it. She looked up into the stern face of Treize. He was dressed in uniform again, like he always had been on the Telnet when she saw him on the big screen in town. The buttons of it flashed like gold fire under the light.

Mary was afraid, but she was also angry. She tried to jerk out of his grip, but it was useless.

"Don't go... near them... again," Treize's voice was soft, but it was dangerous. Every syllable sounded like it was on the edge of violence.

"It's my house," Mary whispered back, furious. She pulled harder, and he dropped his hand, letting her back away. She glowered up at him. "It's my house, and I found 'em. If you're gonna kill 'em, you could at least let me say goodbye first."

"I'm not killing them yet. I'm taking them into custody. I'm not asking you to approve, only to obey. You'll understand when you're older. But you're only a child now. They're not your responsibility," Treize replied, turning away from her.

"Bullshit," she said. The harsh word made the general stop where he stood. He didn't turn around, but he waited for her to speak again. She wasn't exactly sure what would come out of her mouth if she spoke, but she couldn't help herself.

"What gives you the right to play God?" she said, finally. She could hear her own voice shaking, but she didn't care. "To decide who lives and who dies?"

He turned back and looked at her. His expression was softer, but she could still see that ruthlessness there. That part of him that was as much a killer as the two boys in the guest bedroom, and she knew it. She may have only been a kid, but she saw.

Before he could answer, her father came up behind the general. He was calm, but he still had that respectful tone to his voice, so different than the one he had when the soldiers first came. Mary knew it wasn't really respect in his voice. It was fear. Fear and respect were the same thing when you were dealing with a dictator. She wouldn't have been able to put it exactly like that-she wasn't old enough, and didn't have the words-but somewhere in her heart, with a child's intuitiveness, she felt it.

"Your Excellency? Is anything troubling you?" Her father's eyes fell on her, and they were cold. Angry. "Mary. Get over here."

She obeyed. She knew better than to disobey. Her father hadn't whipped her yet for what she did, but he hadn't needed to. The look on his face-that disappointed, angry, frightened look-had been punishment enough. Before, her father had not feared Khushrenada. But now he did. And dimly, she realized that was her fault.

Her father had no reason to fear the general before. But now that his daughter had been harboring enemies of the state, he did. Khushrenada could allocate the farm, send her parents to jail, have her brother dishonorably discharged, or even just execute them all with a few words of condemnation. And that, she realized, was what gave him power over life and death.

Those words.

"Your Excellency, no offense intended, but when will you be getting these boys out of my home, sir?" Her father laid hold of her shoulder hard enough to hurt. He grabbed her and set her aside without a second glance. He did not look away from the general before him.

Treize gazed at him steadily. The steely resolve of his voice and the danger it held was almost hypnotizing. Mary felt like a mouse under the gaze of a cobra. "Do not worry, Mr. Thompson. We plan to leave in the morning. As soon as Tobias has prepared his things, and Zechs has given orders to our men, we will go. I give you my word."

"Prepared his things? You're taking him now?" Mary's eyes were wide, disbelieving. "But you can't-"

"Mary, go to your room. Until our company leaves. Go." Her father's voice was merciless. Almost blank with fear. She double-checked the expression on his face, but there was no argument there. There would be no compromise.

Mary looked back at Treize. "No. Not until he answers me." She wouldn't look at her father.

"Mary, go to your room now!" She didn't look, was afraid to look now, but she could hear the belt in her father's voice. She hardly ever dared to disobey, but she dared now.

"Mary, do as he says," Treize said, softly. There was a moment of silent communication between him and her father, a shared glance, and then those cold blue eyes were on her again, like steel. "I have enjoyed meeting you immensely. It is always... illuminating... to meet the youth of the nation such as yourself."

"And the youth of their nation?"

Treize flinched.

"Go, Mary," her father repeated. His voice was weary.

Without looking at either of them, she went to her bedroom and locked the door behind her. She thought at first she was going to be okay, and then she thought she might be sick. She walked across the room to her bed on shaky legs. She laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She listened to the room next to hers, listened for soft voices of the terrorists that rested in it, but she could hear nothing. They didn't even shift in their sleep.

She just laid there awhile before her mother knocked on the door.

"Mary? Sweetheart? Will you open up please? Supper is ready."

She didn't answer.

Finally, she heard her mother's footsteps fade.

Eventually, she slept.

~*~

Heero was hovering on the edge of unconsciousness when he heard it. It was a low throbbing deep in his chest, a vibration more than a sound. He recognized that deep throbbing sound immediately. Even though it was easily the middle of the night, he was already alert again just from that ominous noise, heart pounding.

"Duo. Duo, get up. Get up!" Duo mumbled in his sleep, and Heero slid out from under his arm, elbowing the Deathscythe pilot none-too-gently. Duo was suddenly awake, grabbing his arm with a vise-like grip. His indigo eyes shone ferally in the darkness before he realized who had hit him in the shoulder, and his hand softened slightly, allowing Heero to get free.

"What is-" Before the question was even out of his mouth, he felt it too. Vernier engines. "Oh, shit."

Heero got off the bed and went to the door, trying to open it. Locked. He put his shoulder to it and hit it as hard as he could, but he was still weak with fever. It shook in its frame, but didn't fall. Duo came up next to him and slammed his fists against the door, shouting.

"Treize! Treize, get the civilians out! Get them out of here!! Battle! It's a battle!"

~*~

"Are you ready to go?"

Tobias looked up. Zechs Marquise stood in the doorway to his bedroom, leaning up against the doorway. He gazed at the lieutenant for a moment, then turned back and zipped his duffel bag closed. He wasn't carrying much with him; Zechs told him that most of the stuff he'd need he would get at the academy, anyway.

Academy... Somehow, just thinking the name made the whole situation more real. He was leaving. He was going to Africa, thousands of miles away, and he'd become a soldier there. He'd fight for the Alliance there.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Just a minute," Tobias answered softly, kneeling on the cold floorboards of his room. It wasn't even light yet. The pre-dawn darkness outside was cold and forbidding. Sleep still hung over him like a shroud, making everything surreal.

A lump came up in his throat, and his eyes stung. He bowed his head slightly, fighting back tears. He had never been away from home in his life.

Suddenly, Zechs was standing next to him. One firm, gloved hand was on his shoulder. It was comforting, but there was something final about it, too. He didn't belong to his father anymore. He would be a weapon, raised by many people. He'd still have contact with his family, of course, but it wouldn't be the same.

Nothing would ever be the same.

"Are you sure about this, Tobias?" Zechs asked. "If you're not, you need to let us know now. Africa is a very long way from here."

Tobias was silent a moment. And then he remembered Mary's eyes. The betrayal in her face when she realized he had told where the Gundam pilots were hidden. Mary's parents would understand-they were a soldiering family, after all-and his own father might, given time... but Mary would never understand. She would never forgive him.

"I'm sure," he replied, standing up straight. But the homesickness still lingered in the pit of his chest, like an ache. He shrugged both the feeling and Zechs' hand off, making sure that Zechs understood the gesture perfectly as he looked up into the older soldier's eyes.

I'm not a child. Don't coddle me.

Zechs nodded down at him. "If you're sure, we're leaving at first light."

"I'm ready."

Suddenly, a sound permeated the stillness. It was a low throbbing sound that Tobias felt as much as heard. He didn't notice the widening of Zechs' eyes, or the way every muscle in the lieutenant tensed. The sound grew, and-

"Down! Get down!!" The lieutenant's voice was almost a bark, commanding. Zechs shoved him to the floor before he could speak a word, and Tobias's teeth clipped together neatly on his tongue as his chin hit the hardwood. He could taste blood, coppery and metallic, as the full weight of the OZ lieutenant fell across his body, shielding him.

The wall of the bedroom seemed to explode. Shrapnel from the wall flew over the top of the bed, glass flying inwards like sharp rain. Tobias could feel it falling against the bare skin of his hands and arms, stinging. There was more gunfire from outside. Tobias could hear the dismayed screams of the horses in the fields beyond the house, could almost feel the lieutenant's wild heartbeat across his back, between his shoulderblades.

"Father!" he shrieked. He tried to push Zechs off of him and stand up, but the blond lieutenant braced a hand on either side of him, pinning him down. The older soldier's voice was harsh in his ear. "Don't move! You can't do anything! Stay down!"

Another explosion rocked the house. Plaster rained down on them in a powdery shower. Far away, beyond the woods, a siren was wailing, shattering the night.

"Let me up!" Tobias scrambled out from beneath Zechs, sitting up. There was another explosion. The force of it threatened to throw him against the far wall, and something caught him in the eye. Pain exploded in a red all-encompassing bloom, shutting out in his vision, and he shrieked, reaching instinctively to clap his hand over his face. Zechs was with him, suddenly, dragging his hands away. "Don't touch it!"

Tobias let out a breathless sob, feeling nothing but pain radiating through his head like a sunburst. Blood ran down his face; he could feel it dripping from his chin in warm, steady drops.

"Come with me!" Zechs grabbed his wrist, dragging him through the early morning darkness.

"I can't see!"

"Flash-blindness and shrapnel. I'll guide you," Zechs replied, his voice low and terse. "Bend at the waist, move low to the ground. If I tell you to get down, don't argue. Just get down."

"My father-"

"Will have to find his own way. Don't argue," Zechs interrupted. He moved through the house as quickly as he could. The walls were already on fire, and it was spreading fast. Smoke filled the room like black poison. Tobias stumbled behind him as he took a corner too quickly, biting back a cry.

Suddenly, Tobias felt himself being picked up off the ground. Blind as he was, the sensation was dizzying, sickening. He struggled weakly, and felt Zechs' arms tighten in warning around him. "Be still, boy! I can't carry you if you move!" the lieutenant snarled, running as quickly as he could while carrying the boy.

"I don't need to be carried!" Tobias shot back.

"You're blinded. I don't have time to lead you, we'll both be killed. Now be still and quiet. That's an order." Zechs leapt forward as a blazing rafter fell from the ceiling, almost hitting them both as the roof threatened to collapse.

Outside, sounds of the battle raged on.

~*~

Part of a destroyed mobile suit crushed the side of the Thompson house, staving it in.

Luckily for Duo and Heero, it was the other side of the house. Or perhaps unluckily, since they were still locked in, and the house had finally caught fire from a misguided mortar shot. Duo could smell the flames like living ash, filling his lungs with smoke that billowed from the crack under the door. He coughed harshly as he backed away from the door, face buried in the crook of his elbow.

"'Ro, I'm breaking this fucker down!"

Backing all the way to the opposite side of the room, Duo lowered his shoulder and gritted his teeth, running forward to slam against the door. It rattled in the frame, sending up sparks from the opposite side, but didn't fall down. Duo snarled a curse.

"Wait, Duo." Heero put one hand to the doorknob, then drew it back with a hiss. His eyes met Duo's, and they shared a moment of silent communication. Fire. Be ready for fire.

"Help me, Heero."

Without replying, Heero backed away with Duo and lined up at the door, using his good shoulder. Duo bumped his shoulder once, brusquely. Heero treated it as a signal, though it just as easily could have been some arcane gesture of good luck.

They rushed the door.

Their combined weight caved it in as if it was a paper wall. Flames met them on the other side, surrounding them. Out of pure instinct, Heero jerked Duo against him with his good arm, making their combined space as small as possible. They ran through the hallway.

"The civvies?"

"Dead. Gone. The top floor is gone. The bedrooms-"

"Check the kid's room, it's first floor," Duo replied tersely. "And the guest bedroom. Treize-"

Heero nodded curtly and made his way down the main hallway, trying not to brush up against the walls. The wallpaper was blackening on each side of him, smoking, threatening to burst into flames at any moment. It was a corridor in hell. Outside, he could hear the sounds of battle still echoing in the fields. And somewhere, buried beneath that, a shriller sound-after a few moments, he realized it was screaming livestock, even though he had never heard the sound before in his life.

But before they could check the girl's room, the door of it flew open, and a large figure raced out, shadowed by smoke. Too large to be a child. Heero and Duo immediately tensed, fists clenched, ready for hand-to-hand combat, but it seemed as if the figure's hands were already full.

It was Treize Khushrenada. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of long flannel sleep pants. A terrible burn arced over his shoulder and across his chest, blistered. He was grimy with a mixture of ash and sweat, and Heero could see the firelight behind him reflected in the general's eyes. The girl was wrapped in his arms, a bedsheet wrapped around her and pulled over her head to prevent smoke inhalation. Heero could hear her coughing weakly beneath the once-white cloth.

"Maxwell, the girl," Treize said, hoarse. Another explosion rocked the house, and Heero and Duo automatically grabbed each other to keep their balance. The general was thrown into the burning wall, and Duo could practically smell burning flesh as it branded him. Treize clenched his teeth, ignoring the pain as he righted himself.

"It's that rebel faction, the Americans. Get the girl. Please. Zechs-"

Zechs. He's worried about Zechs. He'd let the girl die if it meant Zechs could live.

That was all Duo needed to hear. Because he understood completely. And he remembered what Zechs had said. Run, then.

Yeah, he thought. We can give him that much at least.

He grabbed the girl from the injured general as carefully as he could; he didn't know if she was injured or not. He looked into the older soldier's face. "The other civ-?"

Treize glanced down at the girl bundled in Duo's arms, then shook his head. Duo thought as much.

"Come on. Follow me close." The OZ general walked in front of them, coughing from the smoke. It was thicker now, smothering. The sounds of battle seemed further away now. It had come through like a storm, killing, then dissipated just as quickly, leaving death in its wake.

Friendly fire.

~*~

Once they were outside the burning house, Duo was staggered by the amount of damage that had been done to the rural community. Both visible farmsteads were blazing, and the fields around them were a sea of fire. The surviving livestock had trampled down the barbed wire fencing surrounding the large properties, fleeing to safety in the woods.

Their human counterparts, Duo saw immediately, couldn't have been so lucky. The houses were obliterated.

Jesus Christ...

As soon as they were out of the house, Treize ran down the dirt road without a word to either of them, breaking along the blazing field, headed towards the Cale house at a dead sprint. Heero and Duo watched him for a moment until he was nothing but a shadow among shadows, unable to help themselves.

But Heero's nudging elbow in his side quickly reminded Duo of what they needed to do. Mission. They were free now, and the enemy was distracted. They could see that well enough for themselves-mobile suit contrails filled the night sky like lunatic shooting stars.

Duo met Heero's gaze, and Heero mouthed one word at him.

Run.

As weak as he was, Duo should have been incapable of even staggering with the girl in his arms; he was a lightweight himself, and she was tall for her age-but he was running purely on instinct at this point, and it drove him into a full-out run, like a deer in a forest fire. Heero was right beside him in the darkness. He couldn't see the other pilot in the darkness-wasn't looking, really-but he could sense Heero at his side, as familiar as his own shadow. He could hear the other's harsh, rhythmical nasal pants beside him as they ran. He bet if he could have seen, Heero wasn't even breaking a sweat.

They vanished back into the darkness and the woods, leaving the burning fields behind them.

TBC...

 

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