God, this guy is practically falling apart, one hand fisted into the thick fabric of Daniel's vest, trembling so hard Daniel can feel it. He keeps one arm wrapped around the other man's back as he pulls him to his feet as quickly as he dares.

"I'm sorry." He shouldn't be moved, he really shouldn't, not when he's shaking like this and not when he's dealing with everything so poorly, but they do not have the option. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry this is happening."

And then they have to move, because the next impact smashes into the building closest to them and blows half the thing out, chunks of wood and plaster and molded steel tumbling between choking clouds of thick white dust. Daniel practically has to haul the other man alongside him to hare away. Fleetingly, he wishes he could move him gently but knows there simply is not enough time, makes a zigzagged path to the nearest building.

They don't enter it; that would be tantamount to suicide with the way the missiles blasted through the last building so easily. Instead Daniel makes for the relative cover of the back of the faintly militarian boxlike walls, blinking away runnels of sweat intermingled with heavy dust.

"They've found us," Daniel informs the other man tautly. "The rebels, they - we need to get someplace they can't follow."