Eep; yeah, I left it at a cliffie, but rest assured the next part is here. Thanks goes to Kegel once again for a partial beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine and I take them graciously, (okay, maybe not graciously, but still they belong to me)

Thanks for your reviews! Read, and enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen: Rescue

It could have been a trap; Robin had already known that much. Still he would question it later, would work with it as things went along. With quick motions he spurred the horse into a faster gallop, moving up alongside Collin, keeping their pace roughly the same.

Hooves pounded into the dirt road, tearing up the terrain as they hurried along, passing by a bundle of trees that grew in a circular form just off to one side. Here Robin pulled back, forcing the creature to turn off the road and onto a narrow trail, relying on memory to guide him. The horse faltered, slowing down slightly despite Robin's protests, unsure of its footing in the dark, but soon the trial widened, the ground evening out. Collin had followed him as well, the confusion obvious in the man's voice, but Robin had little time to dwell on that matter.

This path led them into Locksley from the side, which gave him an advantage in more than one way. It was quicker, if only by a few minutes, and if Collin was setting a trap, then Robin would have the element of surprise. This would also give him a clear view of the mill; prepare him for what he might find. But already the apprehension had set in, for he could see the eerie glow rising over the top of the trees.

It wasn't just what he could see though, but rather what he could hear. A mixture of cries, of shouts and yells intermingling with each other into one chaotic clamor. Robin spurred the horse on through the last rim of trees, slowing as he approached the village. The flames had consumed the building far in the back of the village, and peasants were running amok in efforts to quell the flames, only to be chased away by the line of guards surrounding the mill.

Collin had slowed his own steed down, his head shaking in disbelief, "Robin…I'm sorry…"

"No," Robin shook his head, cutting him off as he pointed. He had seen the motion with his eyes, and then only just barely. But years in the war had left him with the ability to spot even the smallest of spats from a good distance, and this was more than just a simple quarrel. It was a full blown fight, and Robin could just glimpse Little John's form moving through the chaos.

Once again he spurred his horse on, holding the reigns loosely in one hand as he began to ready his bow. In the next motion he dropped the reigns, trusting that the horse would keep the current path as he aimed, firing the arrow quickly. The projectile soared through the air, embedding into the arm of a guard who had been advancing on Allan. The other man scrambled quickly to his feet, locking eyes with him with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

"Robin!" John called out to him, as he approached, Robin slowing the horse considerably, the creature frightened with all the commotion.

"Get to the forest, now!" he ordered, kicking out, as a man tried to swing at him. Robin disregarded the bow in favor of his sword, using it to block another attack, his height on the horse giving him slight advantage. His eyes searched the outlying area. Everyone was accounted for, except Gisborne and…

"Where's Will?"

"He was right behind me, I swear," Allan breathed, drawing closer to the pair as Collin arrived in the fray.

Robin glanced from one to the next, then back to the mill that was still engulfed in flames. Already bits and parts of the building had fallen, sparks filtering up and catching more dry material on fire. Already villagers were stamping out the fire, trying to keep it from spreading, calling out to him for his help, but on the inside he was numb, shaking his head slowly.

"Leave, get to the forest," he said quickly, dismounting and looking up at Collin. "That means you as well."

"Robin!" John shook his head. "Not this, you cannot."

"I have to John," he told him quietly, "I must. I will be back in the forest, now go!"

The truth was he didn't much like the prospect of it either. But neither would he abandon Will. The heat of the flames, even from here, could be felt, and Robin could only fathom of the heat inside, his mind casting back to the memories of the Holy Land, of how the heat there had made it unbearable. But this was a different kind of heat, he knew.

Robin pressed away from his men, turning back to his bow now as he fired off several more arrows, forcing the guards back least they be injured from the projectiles. He was quick on his feet, moving over the ground as he reached the front of the mill, one hand up to shield him from the array of sparks flying down. The door itself was busted clean open, most likely from John's doing, but it would only help him in the end.

Even as he reached the door he was brought to a stop. The dagger impaled the siding just mere inches from his head, causing him to jerk back quickly, fitting an arrow into his bow as he brought it up. Gisborne emerged a second later from the side, sword drawn as he came closer.

"I had figured you might be too much of a coward to gather the silver yourself, but even I wouldn't have put it past you to send in your own men," Gisborne told him coldly. "I could have you in there, but I'd settle for one if nothing at all."

There was little time for drivel, Robin moving the bow to one side as he let the string roll off his fingers. The reaction was one he wanted, Guy pulling back as the arrow flew near his face. Taking the small opportunity Robin dove forward, crossing the threshold and straight into the heat of the flames.

Passing out would have been a blessing. The pain was agonizing, sharp waves spiraling down his back and through his legs, his head pounding as more of the wood came crashing down, leaving him disoriented for the briefest of moments. But he shook it off, dust and soot flying from his hair as he did so. The same fine debris had also settled in his lungs, filling his chest and making it difficult to breathe.

Several harsh coughs filled the air, each one only causing more pain as Will tried to move, chunks of the roof rolling off his back and to the floor as he tried to push himself up. But the heavy beams that once supported the roof kept him pinned there, holding his legs fast at an awkward angle, grinding the bones against one another. Around him the fire still burned, moving from the center mass towards the floor, slowly eating up the wood between him and the pile.

Will coughed again as the heavy smoke filled the air, forcing his eyes closed against the stinging sensation. Gently he laid his battered body back down, trying to keep himself calm as he thought things through. His heart hammered in his chest, matching the throbbing ache in his body, and his fear only served to heighten his sensations, making things all the more worse.

Again he tired to pick himself up, only to come to the same conclusion. The beam would not budge, and Will could not turn himself around in order to reach it. Even trying sent sharp waves of pain coursing through his body, forcing him to give in.

His eyes closed as he laid his head back down, his breaths coming in short gasps intermixed with rough coughs as he struggled to breathe. Though the pain wasn't so bad when he remained still, it was not a comforting notion. Unless he did something, he would die, and though that risk had always been something he carried, this was not the way he had imagined it to be.

He had imagined it would be quick, relatively painless; instead he was trapped now, waiting for what he knew would come, without knowing when it would. So wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn't noticed the sound at first. When it came again it was more of a confusion, Will suspecting that he was hearing it only because he wanted to. But when it came a third time, he knew for sure. Someone was calling his name.

He called out, but his voice was weak and rough from the coughing, and so he tried again, his heart pounding once more as he tried to push himself up. He could hear the feet pounding on the stairs, and he called again, a mixture of hope and confusion filling him as he wondered who would have been crazy enough to actually come in to find him.

Yet even he hadn't been expecting this, his eyes lighting up quickly upon seeing the other man. "Will?"

"Robin!" Will cried out, shaking his head as the man dropped to the floor, staying on his hands and knees as he carefully worked his way around the flames. He too was coughing, trying to still his breath as he reached out, urging Will to lie back down.

"What are you doing?" Will pressed him. He would not deny the fact that he was relieved to have the man here, but he was also curious to how Robin had even heard of their situation, and even more so to why the man had raced into the building in the first place.

Robin didn't respond, instead his hands reached over him, gripping the beam in his hands as he tried to lift it. Will cried out at the sudden pressure, his response forcing Robin back. The man was shaking his head, trying to catch his breath. He sat there for a moment, the two men breathing heavily in the midst of the burning building.

"Will," Robin breathed, finally turning to him.

Will nodded, feeling his stomach tighten. He knew what the man was going to say, that he was going to say he couldn't get him out of here. The same way Will hadn't been able to free Robin from the dungeons. He tried to find his voice, tried to reassure Robin that it was alright. Robin had done more than expected already, had risked his life just trying. That was enough, it had to be enough…

"This is going to hurt," the man apologized instead, drawing a bout of confusion from him. "I can't lift this very far, I need you to help me."

Will shook his head, coughing as he took in another breath. "I can't…Robin…"

"When I say go, I need you to move," he cut him off, not waiting for a reply as his hands gripped the beam once more. He moved one foot under him, bracing his shoulder against the beam as he turned back to glance at him. "Ready?"

Will nodded, feeling that it hardly mattered if he was ready or not. His hands braced the floor, pushing himself up slightly as Robin threw his weight into the beam. The same familiar pain returned, Will biting his lip to keep himself from crying out as the weight on his legs shifted. Robin called out to him, Will already dragging himself out, stopping as he felt one leg caught at the base of his boot.

Robin was bracing the beam as best as he could, but he couldn't hold it for long. Will bit his bottom lip again, holding his breath as he gave his leg a swift yank, pulling it free shortly before the beam slipped from Robin's hands. He hadn't moved very far, holding his breath as the pain swelled his body. His legs were sore, but the left one ached fiercely, pounding as though it had a heartbeat of its own.

Will grimaced as a hand fell on his side, Robin coming into his line of vision. "Can you walk?"

Walk? Will wanted to laugh. He had barely been able to crawl just a few seconds prior. Did the man expect him to fight as well? Run charging into the battle that surely awaited them outside? His ill humor died in the next moment as Robin gave him a sympathetic glance.

"Sorry, you don't get a choice," and with that unceremonious response Robin wrapped an arm around his waist, hauling him to his feet despite his protest.

Will gritted his teeth against the pain, leaning wholly on Robin for support as the man began to move towards the stairwell. The pain was tremendous, but there was hardly a chance to give into it, but what was more concerning was the fact that he couldn't put any weight on his left leg, the limb simply giving way with each step. Robin had noticed to, had noticed because he had compensated, switching sides so that Will could help by using his good leg, his other dangling helplessly in the middle as they made their way down the stairs.

Then he saw the doorway, could see the open way ahead and he felt like crying. Only moments before he had presumed he would die, and his grip tightened around Robin's shoulder as they neared. Flames here licked, too, but not as violently as it had been on the second floor, and at the moment the path was clear of any real danger. Then, as quickly as he had felt the relief, it melted into worry, Gisborne suddenly moving in the way, his sword drawn.

The man shook his head, watching them as Robin came to a slow stop at the bottom, lowering Will the ground carefully. Will braced himself, taking care not to injure his mangled leg any further as Robin took a defensive stance over him, his bow drawn and ready.

"No," Gisborne said coldly, "you're not getting away, not this time. Not again. Too many times you've ruined our plans, taken away what's rightfully mine. Not anymore."

"Then do with me what you will," Robin told him coldly, his voice steady as he answered. "But you leave my men out of it."

Will swallowed, shaking his head. This was a bad situation. Robin could not protect the both of them, and Will could not fight in his condition. Gisborne would kill the both of them in this way, and he was sure Robin knew it as well. But the man was unwavering, lifting his bow even more as the smoke continued to fill the air.

"Move, or this arrow will not miss," he warned coldly.

"You and I both know you don't have it in you," Gisborne told him quietly, taking careful steps towards him. "Some great war hero, you can't even kill to save yourself. You lost everything, Hood, your dignity, your title, even Marian."

Will actually jerked as the arrow flew through the air, the shaft burying itself deep inside the man's shoulder. Gisborne let out a howl as he dropped his sword, hand flying to where the arrow protruded, unaware of Robin's movements. The archer himself had taken a step forward, kicking out with his leg and catching Gisborne in the chest unaware, knocking the man to the side.

Again Will was hauled to his feet, Robin moving quicker this time than before as the mill began to groan under the conditions it was enduring. Will half-stumbled, half-clung to the man as Robin moved through the door and out into the open. Fresh air hit his lungs in a welcoming breath, his eyes seeing the rest of the group waiting, their own expressions lighting up as they raced towards them.

"I told you to go into the forest!" Robin scolded even as John reached them, wrapping an arm around Will to help counter his weight. Will grimaced at the transfer, Robin pulling away as he grabbed the reigns of a nearby horse, pulling the animal near.

"John, get Will out of here now" Robin continued, reassuming the role of leader without any thought. His gaze was drawn back to the mill as more of the building was beginning to collapse.

"Master," Much had pushed through the group, grabbing man by the arm. "We must go."

Will could have agreed, would have agreed, but cried out instead as John hoisted him up near the horse. Frantically he reached out, grasping the saddle to help pull himself up. He held the reigns as John mounted up behind him, pausing only long enough to make eye contact with Robin once more.

"Go," Robin urged him, turning to others. "The rest of you as well. You know where to meet."

"Robin," Will shook his head, but behind him John moved, grabbing the reigns from his hands and spurring the horse into a fast trot, and then into a steady gallop, leaving the village behind as they disappeared into the forest.

Will was his first concern; Robin urged the others to depart as well as he held his ground, readying another arrow should he have to use it. The few guards that were left standing seemed apathetic in trying to do anything, especially concerning their leader was nowhere to be seen.

It took more of an effort to in order to convince Much to leave, but finally the man turned and sprinted to the forest edge, Robin moving slowly after the path he had taken, watching their retreat carefully. He had been angry that his men had even returned, and surely it would be something they would have to speak about at a later time. Yet part of Robin was grateful, a part of his mind knowing that things would be considerably difficult in having to try and to escape alone with injured man.

Yet things would have been much easier if it had not been for Gisborne. It was an ironic thought, he mused, considering the entire ordeal would have not happened if it wasn't for the man. Still, some of the blame had rested with him he knew, partially because Robin had goaded Gisborne into setting the trap. Robin should have known that Will would have attempted such a risk, having not known the true nature of the set-up. Slowly he shook his head, coming to a pause, his arrow still ready to fly as he surveyed the scene before him.

The villagers were still trying to keep the fire at bay, and certainly would have their hands full for the remainder of the night. More calls and cries went up in the air, acknowledgements that there was still someone trapped inside, debris having collapsed over the door itself. The call confused him, Robin had already accounted for all his men, so he knew it was naught any of them who were trapped inside. Then the realization hit him.

Gisborne was still inside.

Anger filled him as he shook his head, moving to turn away. He didn't have time for this; his men needed him, Will needed him. Surely his injuries were severe, if not possibly fatal. The man had been bleeding heavily, that much could be seen right offhand. With Will being in so much shock, the man probably had yet to notice. Yet Robin knew once the fear and uproar died down, it would become very apparent. War had proven that many of times. Men did not always die during the heat of the battle, but after from their sustained wounds.

But even as he turned something stopped him, the anger and confusion only blossoming inside him even more. Robin tried to reason with himself, tried to convince the arguments inside his head that Gisborne deserved his fate. The man had tried to kill him, more than once, had tried to kill Marian, and now had gone after his men. It was cold blooded murder; the man was a traitor and he didn't deserve to live.

But he didn't deserve to die, not like this. The fate was far worse than what Robin would wish upon anyone, even his worst enemy. The question wavered in his mind, and the more he tried to deny it, the more apparent of what he should do became. With a cry of frustration he sprinted across the opening, lowering his weapon as he approached the mill. The villagers were calling his name, asking for him to help, but Robin pushed past them, pausing for only a moment as he drew near, the heat causing hesitation to brew inside of him.

Then he took another step forward, kicking out at the smoldering wood, knocking it out of the way as he dove back inside. Thick layers of smoke greeted him, stinging his eyes and stealing his breath as he moved further in. Even though he could not see him, Robin could hear the man well enough, and he followed the groans and gruff cries towards the furthest wall.

Gisborne was clambering on his hands and knees, pausing every so often to grab the broken shaft in his shoulder. He was moving about like a drunken blind man, hands wavering out in the air before him as he scooted about, as though he was trying to find the way back out.

Robin moved forward quickly, dodging the flimsy punch Gisborne tried to deliver at the sound of his approach. He knocked the man back with an easy kick to the side, backing off for a short moment. Gisborne let out a string of obscenities, coughing as he tried to rub his eyes. Robin moved forward again, grabbing the back of the man's leather coat and dragging him to his feet, leaving Gisborne stumbling and trying to push him away.

"Get up," Robin cried, half-pulling and half-dragging the man after him as he made his way back to the door. Gisborne had now wrapped his own hand around Robin's arm, trying to fight with him, only increasing the anger growing inside of him. Didn't the man realize he was trying to help?

The fresh air greeted him once more, Robin pausing just outside the door to disengage with the man. But Gisborne was not so willing to let go of the man he hunted for so long, his fingers digging fiercely into the archer's arm. Robin gritted his teeth against the pain, and brought his knee up, connecting with the man's stomach, dropping him to the ground in one motion.

Now free of his charge, and any guilt that had been lingering in him, Robin took off for the forest, knowing that his men would be waiting for him. Only when he had reached the tree line did he pause, glancing back on the village he once resided in. As much as he wanted to stay and help quell the fire, Robin knew that his welcome here was short lived, and with a firm shake of his head he turned and disappeared among the trees.

TBC