Maxwell Church

“The Maxwell Church?” the new recruit beside them began, shaking her head.  “I’ve never heard of it.”

“I’m not surprised,” said the man who sat across from her.  “On Earth, you wouldn’t have heard much about it…”

Heero looked up when he saw the muscles in Duo’s arms tense where they lay on the table…then forcibly relax.  He glanced up at the other man, then back at the others a few seats away.  Reaching across the table, Heero touched his fingers against Duo’s wrist, doing his best to make the touch appear as casual as possible.  Duo looked up briefly but quickly turned his eyes back to the crossword on the table they’d been working on just moments before.  Heero knew he wasn’t really seeing the little squares though, so he turned his attention back to the conversation going on beside them.

“This church, a Catholic church, was on an L2 colony and was used as a hide out for this rebel group.  The Alliance chased them down to it.  Wiped out everyone and everything inside the building before taking that out too.”

“How many people died?”

“Twelve.”

“Fifteen,” Duo corrected, his voice barely above a whisper; Heero almost missed it.

“Only that?” asked the young woman.  “Granted, it’s awful, but twelve people hardly constitutes a ‘massacre,’ considering the times.”

“It wasn’t the body count,” Duo said, a little louder this time.  Both speakers turned and waited for him to continue.  When he didn’t, Heero nodded at the other man, signaling him to finish his story.

“He’s right,” he said to the young woman.  “Only seven—”

“Ten,” Duo cut in, correcting him again.

“Ten?”

“There were fifteen dead, not twelve,” Heero clarified.

When Duo nodded, the other man continued, “Only ten, then, of the dead were rebels.  The rest were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Two adults – the Father and a nun – and three children.”

“Children?” Heero had to give the woman some credit when she paled significantly.  “Were there any survivors?”

“No, none.”

“Well…” Duo muttered, a bitter smirk forming on his lips, “there was one.”  Standing, he pushed the crossword and his half-eaten banana across the table to Heero.  When the Japanese man looked up in confusion, Duo shrugged.  “I’m not really hungry.  I’ll see you back at the seminar.”

Once he was out of ear-shot, the other man leaned across the seats between them to ask Heero, “How’s he know so much about the Massacre?”

“He used to live on L2,” Heero avoided.

“What’s his name?”

He cringed.  “His name is Duo.  Duo…Maxwell.”  He didn’t wait for more questions, especially not when the gears started turning and the pieces began to fall into place for the other two.  Standing, he grabbed the crossword and fruit and headed back to the office, hoping he’d catch Duo alone before the rest of their group returned to the conference room.