Duo Maxwell and the Sword of the Khan

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Duo kept sulking after Tsering left, so Heero started to look for his laptop. He found the case next to a few ancient scrolls, amused at the contrast between old and new technology; carefully, he pulled the case from the shelf and removed the laptop inside. He opened it up and was horrified by the crack in the screen. Booting up the laptop didn't take long and soon enough it was up and running.

"I'm going to try to make a connection to a satellite," Heero said out loud even though Duo wasn't far away from him, sitting at the table with his head on his crossed arms, sulking like a toddler. Noventa was his hero, Heero knew that Duo didn't like the insinuation about the Marshall killing Bartoli at all. He didn't like the idea either. Noventa had told them about Bartoli's death, and how he traveled to Italy to give his family the bad news. Had he put up an act, shedding fake tears to Gianni's widow and his son? Did Marco know about all of this, was that his reason to obstruct them from finding the sword?

Watching the programs working hard to make a connection, Heero leaned back, stealing an occasional glance at Duo. "Duo…" he softly said.

"I don't want to hear about it." Duo blew a few bangs out of his face. "How's the connection coming along?"

"It's hard to get contact. I guess the battery is slightly damaged as well, I don't get full power here. I can reroute all the auxiliary power to the webcam program, and see who's home."

"That would be awesome," Duo said, lighting up. "Try it, please?"

"I can make the videochat work, but we won't have more than three minutes," Heero said gravely. "If I had any tools here..."

"Call the manor," Duo encouraged him. "Howard's there, he's supervising the reconstruction work! Just trip the alarm in my study, and he'll notice it!"

"Hopefully he's fast," Heero said as his fingers rapidly clicked the keys.

They both stared at the screen, Duo with his fingers crossed. A little anxious, he leaned over Heero's shoulder, his braid sliding along with the movement. Out of habit, Heero took the braid in his right hand and wrapped it around his fingers.

"There he is! Howard! Thank God! Howard!" Duo's loud yelling made Heero cringe.

"Duo! Where in the seven hells are you! You had me worried sick!" Howard's face was distorted and grainy; Heero tried to reroute more power to the video chat, but his laptop was protesting as it was. "See this?" Howard pointed to his grey hair. "This is all because of you!"

"Howard, you were already grey when I met you," Duo said.

"You are most responsible for this," Howard wasn't easy to sway, pointing at his receding hairline.

"We don't have much time," Heero interrupted him.

"That's right. Howard, please contact Wufei and tell him we're all right," Duo spoke quickly. "We're at Barkhang Monastery and everything's okay. Sorry about the Cessna, though. We're on the right track-"

"Chinese authorities mentioned a plane being shot down over the Himalayas," Howard said. "What happened?"

"Fiamma Nera. Sorry Howard, not much time. We're going after the sword. Locate Bartoli and investigate the details of Gianni's Bartoli's death, all right? Send everything you know or find to Wufei and tell him to wait in Chengdu, we'll find a way to contact him. It's much safer for him to stay there, I wouldn't want the Fiamma Nera to go after him."

"Done and done," Howard said. "Oh, by the way, I have something to tell you from G, concerning Sylvia Noven-"

The connection was cut off. "That was all the time we had." Heero adjusted a few buttons and tapped the keys, up until the screen went suddenly black. "I guess we should be grateful for that time anyway."

"At least we gave the message that we were fine," Duo said. "Did you hear what he said about the authorities? He must've been worrying sick, the poor guy. I hope he can contact Wufei again."

"I'm sure he can," Heero was positive as Howard was extremely cunning, "he'll be able to convey the message to him. Now we have to worry about ourselves." He stared downtrodden at his laptop.

"I'm sorry for the loss of your laptop," Duo ruffled Heero's hair and kissed him on the cheek. "I guess it doesn't survive missile attacks and cold temperatures as much as you thought it would."

"I equipped it myself with extra power to withstand these kind of circumstances." Now Heero was the one pouting.

"Really? You equipped your laptop in preparation for being in the middle of a missile attack?"

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not mocking you, silly." Duo tilted his head a little, but not too much as his braid was still caught in Heero's hand. His own fingers raked through Heero's tousled strands and gently stroked the hair. "We have to be practical."

"You're right. We need equipment and supplies, but where are we going to get them? Everything was stashed in the Cessna."

The look on Duo's face was...unreadable. Misery mixed with melancholy and fear, and Heero didn't know how to interpret his lover's sudden silence.

"I know where we can get equipment," Duo said and disentangled his braid gently from Heero's fingers. "Come with me, I'll show you."

"Duo…"

"Come on," Duo beckoned him with his hand. Heero followed him, trusting Duo with his life and more; if Duo said he knew where to find equipment, he believed him. He was thinking about what they were going to need for their expedition: everything to combat the thin air and cold, the snow and the harsh conditions of the mountains. If the warrior-monks knew where the tomb of the Khan was…it was a long shot, but if he was buried with his sword… Heero's thoughts moved on to Bartoli. The Italian was still a dangerous factor in this entire expedition. He hadn't hesitated to send a fighter jet after them, what more would he have up his sleeve?

"I wonder what Howard wanted to say about Sylvia Noventa," Duo broke the silence. The hallways in the monastery were so alike that Heero had difficulties orientating. Duo on the other hand, seemed to feel at home and knew exactly where he was going.

"I don't know what's there to say about her. She hasn't passed away, or Howard would've mentioned it."

"He said that he had something from G to tell me." Duo looked pensive. "It must have something to do with her illness."

"Where are we going?" Heero asked. He hadn't been in this part of the monastery before. He could hear water nearby; they were close to the swimming pool. Duo took a turn to the right and halted, knocking on a wooden door.

"It's us," he said out loud. The door was crafted from sturdy oak, and Heero could hear metallic sounds - a key turned in a lock. He should've known that it was Tsering behind the door; he stared at the warrior-monk stoically, only to be met with a similar stare.

"What do you need?" He asked, not unfriendly.

"I want to see the vault," Duo said, and his voice exposed his unease. Heero's curiosity quickly won over his own adversity towards the monk, and when the door was further opened, he almost stepped inside greedily.

"These are our quarters," Tsering said, stressing the 'our'. Heero couldn't see much difference with the regular hallways of Barkhang, if it weren't for the weapon racks and a burning smithy, located in a corner where it could be conveniently covered up for other monks, so they wouldn't see the instruments of violence. The warrior-monks, dressed like Tsering, eyed the visitors with great weariness and suspicion. After they saw that Tsering was with the guests, they relaxed - barely. The monk working as a smith had his chuba rolled down at the waist, showing off and impressive torso. It felt so strange to see someone so close to a peaceful religion and environment busy working on a sharp sword, that Heero could understand the apprehension of the other Barkhang monks. Tsering guided them past the smithy and through a large room with crudely shaped dining tables and chairs. The usual mandalas and thangkas hung on the wall, illuminated by the typical butter lamps; still, the reverence Heero felt in the usual monastery wasn't tangible here. It was hostility that reigned this room, not reverence. He shivered lightly.

"Are you cold?" Duo whispered.

"A little."

"Be careful." Duo hugged him briefly while they walked behind Tsering. A little guilt went through Heero's mind; Duo was still worried that the aftereffects of the hypothermia were plaguing him, even though Heero had never felt better before, thanks to Thubten, the monk who had helped nursing him back to health, apart from Duo and Tsering.

"We're almost there," Tsering announced. He opened another door and fresh, bright daylight washed all over them. Heero squinted his eyes. He hadn't expected they'd go outside. The chilly air blew in his face and he hugged himself, just like Duo. Tsering was unaffected by the climate but he sped up a little, guiding the others to a small, stone building. It was closed with the same sturdy, oak wood doors as the warrior-monks' quarters and two eyes were painted above it. Tsering opened it and hurried them inside, closing the door behind him.

"Is this the vault?" Heero couldn't keep from asking.

"Sort of," Duo answered. There was nothing inside, the small building was completely empty. He stepped forward and knelt down, his hands sifting through the sand on the floor. Muttering under his breath, Duo exclaimed an "A-ha!" and pulled a chain to open a hole in the floor. Tsering helped to remove the piece of stone covering it, and sand fell into the opening; a square black hole.

"It's tight," Duo said and jumped inside. "Watch your head!"

Heero waited to follow him until Tsering had lit a butter lamp and handed it over to him to hold. It looked like the warrior-monk wanted to say something, but decided against it at the last moment. Taking the lamp from him, Heero made a careful jump into the hole.

"Watch your head!" Duo repeated. "This used to be the monks' fridge. We won't stay long, it's pretty cold down here - but we can take what we need."

"What the..." Heero said, flabbergasted, when he saw boxes and crates stacked in the small space. He noticed that Tsering hadn't followed them, but Heero was too busy processing what he saw: Duo opening crates, removing dusty cloths and unfolding boxes.

"Solo liked to plan ahead." There was no doubt about the sadness in Duo's voice. His lips turned into a grimace. "He thought keeping some… materials here was a good idea. He always wanted to return to Tibet to start searching for yetis. Yetis, goddamnit," Duo mumbled, and Heero choose to ignore his last words.

One of the crates he opened contained a stack of guns. Duo pulled out a pair of Uzis and cocked them. From the minor distance, Heero could see the ammunition clips in the crate; with a familiar gesture, Duo loaded the guns and put them aside to take out extra clips. The strange expression had returned on his face, and in the light of the butter lamp he looked eerie sad and defeated, much older than he was.

"I'm sorry," Heero said.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," Heero repeated. "I should've been there for you."

It spoke volumes about their relationship that Duo immediately knew what Heero was talking about. He put the clips next to the guns, his fingers resting on the crate.

"It's all right. You had your obligations."

"It's not like that." Heero took a step closer, reaching for Duo. He didn't respond to Heero's touch, staring at the crate in front of him. "It's... your parents. Your brother. You never told me much about your parents, and I know... well, Hilde told me that..."

"How come you ask about my parents, Heero? Just because of Hilde?" There was no animosity in Duo's voice, just that typical strain in his usual melodious timbre that Heero recognized for what it was: a slight crack in Duo's composure. No secrets were kept between them, but that didn't mean there weren't any delicate topics; his family was one of Duo's delicate topics. If he didn't want to talk about it, there was no way anyone could open him up; only to Heero he showed his true emotions.

"It's because of this place." Heero put his hand on Duo's shoulder. "The monastery. It's a place of reflection and introspection."

"That's true." Duo's fingers slipped from the crate and he laced them together, thumbs rubbing past each other. "What is it that you wanted to know about it, Heero?"

"Not 'it'," Heero shook his head. "I'm not interested in the accident itself, Duo. I want to learn about your parents, because I love their son so very much. I'm sorry I didn't get to meet them. And Solo… I miss him too."

"I know." Duo turned around and to Heero's relief, slipped his arms around him. He immediately mimicked the gesture, pressing Duo close. Duo nuzzled his neck, keeping a tight grip on Heero. "I wish you had met my parents as well. I'm sure you'd like them. My father knew so much about history and archaeology, and could talk all day and all night long about it, in a way that made you want to get yourself a large tub of popcorn and a gallon of coke, just because he was such a great story teller. My mother... she was kindness incarnated, soft and gentle, and she had the sweetest smile ever."

"Then you are the perfect combination of both their best traits," Heero said. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," Duo said and chuckled briefly. "Don't you think this is an awkward place to say it, though?"

"It's the only place where no monks are around us," Heero answered honestly. Barkhang was far from being crowded, but there was always someone near, some way or the other. Duo had to suppress a grin.

"I admit, except for the bedroom, we're never alone around here. Let's just get our stuff and get out of here, okay? It's really cold..."

"I can take inventory of all the things here if you like," Heero offered. Duo shook his head and reached past Heero to show him a small notebook. He recognized Solo Maxwell's painstakingly perfect handwriting in an instant.

"He wrote everything down," Duo said. "Adjust it... however you would like." Grabbing the two Uzis and the stash of clips, he hurried out of the strange cellar, leaving Heero behind with the butter lamp and a baffled expression on his face.

He decided not to follow him, not yet. Heero turned his attention towards the inventory list, feeling his own pain again when he saw that familiar handwriting. Solo wrote small letters, everything fitting perfectly onto one page, whereas Duo wrote with an incredibly large hand, his letters often encompassing two lines in a notebook. It wasn't the largest difference between the brothers, but it didn't matter - here in Tibet, close to the Roof of the World, Duo's pain about his deceased family was more tangible and rawer than anywhere else. In the Maxwell Manor he was surrounded with mementos of his family, the work of his father and the designs of his mother, and Solo's bedroom was exactly the same the day he left it for the last time... and Duo lived between it all, without any difficulties, but the actual confrontation with the people he lost in his lives came here, in this country that had already suffered so much on its own.

Heero didn't know what to say. He didn't want to leave Duo alone in his sadness, yet words failed him to describe what he was feeling himself. Duo's parents had died a little over a year before Heero met him. Their relationship had been intense and fierce, it had literally consumed the both of them with a passion that distracted them from everything else. Solo had still been alive, and he had accepted Heero into the 'family' immediately. It dawned to Heero that not even Solo had spoken of his parents much, and certainly not about the conditions in which they had met their death. He stalled a few moments trying to figure it out, only to realize that he hadn't spoken much of his own adoptive father. It was like… they'd rather not talk about it because it hurt too much.

Taking a deep breath, Heero continued to gather supplies. Solo had been efficient; beside guns and ammunition, he had stored backpacks, climbing gear, flashlights, batteries, food rations (energy bars, canned meals easy to heat over an open fire, astronaut food) and bottled water. He selected a few more handguns and stashed everything in the backpacks. In the corner of the cellar he found a backpacker shotgun, a short barrel less than 36 inches. The brand of the gun was hard to read and it looked like a model that hadn't been on the market for a long time. Heero picked it up anyway; either Solo had had some creepy foresight or someone else had put it here and forgotten all about it. He made a mental note to check it for rusty components thoroughly.

As he was about to leave the place, a hand reached out for him to help him out of the hole - Tsering had been waiting for him the whole time. Heero took his hand and was hoisted up; Tsering took one of the heavy backpacks and slung it over his shoulder.

"Do you have everything you want?" he asked. Heero nodded. The warrior-monk proceeded to cover the secret room, even brushing the sand back into place. "We will leave here," he said.

"Did you see Duo leave?" Heero had to ask.

"He went back to the monastery. Don't worry, I'm sure he's going to be all right."

"Don't you tell me anything about Duo!" Heero grabbed the other backpack, ready to storm out of the building. A look flashed over Tsering's face, anger perhaps, or offense; it passed by too quickly for Heero to analyze, and at this moment he didn't care. He wanted to go find Duo and talk things over.

"You know he'll go to hell and back for you, right?" Tsering's voice was calm, as usual. It wasn't like Heero to lose his composure, but something about the monk ticked him off. He didn't need a lecture, not about anything - and certainly not about his Duo.

"Of course I know," Heero snarled, "and he knows I'd do the very same for him!"

"Have you ever asked," Tsering continued, voice unchanged, "how we found you in the mountains?"

"What do you mean?"

"You lost consciousness in a cave." Tsering gazed at him. "You regained consciousness in a monastery. Have you never wondered what happened in-between?"

"I would appreciate it if you just told me what you want to tell me," Heero said. The warrior-monk shifted the large backpack on his shoulder.

"What I want to tell you, Heero Yuy," he said sternly, "is that we found Duo Maxwell on his way to the Tsangpo, with you and your precious laptop on his shoulders. He was ploughing through the snow of the Himalayas to carry you to safety."

 

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Chapter 9 | Chapter 11 |