Good! You’re reading my fic! I’m very proud of this little crazy idea I had and decided to make it into a fic. I’m hoping for many more chapters to come, but hey, schoolwork kinda makes it go slowly. More soon though.

Disclaimer: G-Wing characters do not belong to me, but to whomever owns the series. A really good one I might add! ^_~.

WARNINGS: ANGST! ANGST! MEGA ANGST! PSYCHOTIC HEERO! VIOLENCE! (That’s about it for right now. Each section will probably have it’s own warning. Some sappy stuffs later! Promise!)

Okay. Hope you like it. My first non-humor, non-sappy fic. (well a little sap later on [bet you can’t wait to see the pairing!] ) Please e-mail me and tell me whatcha think. All mail will receive a reply. Firefly867@aol.com

-->Ray-Chan

Another day. Another mission accomplished. The five Gundam pilots trudged warily back to their current safehouse. Walking into the living room, Wufei chose a chair for his resting purposes leaving the couch for the others. Trowa and Quatre sat down gratefully, but Duo just collapsed to the carpeted floor in exhaustion.

"Whoo! Man am I tired! I thought that mission would never end. I’m surprised we made it out of there!"

"We almost didn’t."

All eyes turned to Heero as he spoke. The normally silent pilot was glaring at Duo with a hint of…anger? Heero Yuy was never angry. Or at least he never showed it openly.

"YOU almost got us killed, Duo. Why can’t you just stick to the mission plan?"

"Well excuuuuse me, Heero!" The braided pilot stumbled to his feet. Lying on the floor below Heero’s heated glare, the intimidation factor had risen. Now that they were face to face though, the intimidation changed into a fiery rage equal or even surpassing that of Heero’s.

"I just thought that MAYBE if I did things MY way, we might get out of there a little faster!"

"And instead, we almost didn’t make it out of there at all."

Duo rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, Heero. Almost. But we’re here aren’t we? That’s what this job is all about…close calls and risking death at every turn. You of all people should understand that."

"It seems like the number of close calls increases when you’re around, Duo. Why can’t you take your missions seriously?"

Duo stood his ground defiantly.

"I DO take my missions seriously, Heero. I just accept that things can’t always go according to your ‘Master Plan’ "

"You're too childish, Duo. You never..." (WHACK)

The hollow connection of bone on bone echoed through the now silent room. The pilots stared in shock. Heero's right temple had already begun to bruise, each indent from a knuckle clearly visible on the clear expanse of skin

"Heero...I-I'm really sorry." Duo licked his lips nervously. "I didn't mean to. Um...you can hit me if you really want to."

The Japanese pilot stared at the floor. Slowly a hand rose to his temple and rested lightly on the offending spot. Heero's head turned slightly upwards and he fixed the American with an icy glare. But before any further words could be spoken or actions taken, Heero collapsed to the floor. His hands rose to grip his head roughly as he thrashed about on the carpet.

"He….Heero! Are you okay?"

Heero was too dazed to see it was Quatre talking to him. The slight blonde had run to his side after the initial shock of Heero’s current state subsided, and attempted to get a response from the boy now writhing in the floor below him. All efforts were to no avail though, as Heero only continued clutching his head, his eyes now wide and afraid. The terror clearly visible in the expanse of cobalt blue.

"Duo, call a doctor!" It was Wufei now. Always one to take action.

As Heero’s thrashing intensified, small moans and cries of pain escaped him. The sounds were foreign to the other pilots helplessly watching the scene unfold before them.

Then just as suddenly as the whole event began, the thrashing and cries halted, leaving Heero breathlessly panting on the floor, now curled into a tight ball.

Duo sighed in relief.

"Heero, what happened just n…Wait! Where are you GOING?!"

The brown haired pilot had swiftly risen to his feet and was out the living room door before another word could be spoken. The others stood there mystified, not daring to believe what had just happened.

"We should go after him," Trowa reminded the group, breaking the still silence.

As the four entered the hallway, a quick glance around told them Heero was nowhere to be found. They ran to check each of the bedrooms in turn and, upon finding no one save themselves, they cautiously made their way back downstairs to the dining room. Also empty. They were about to give up when a small sound drew their attention to the neighboring kitchen. They entered…and froze.

Heero was kneeling on the cold tile, a pool of his own blood surrounding him and dripping from the newly made gash in his head. His eyes now seemed lifeless, and if not for the fact that they were focused on the long kitchen knife gripped tightly in his right hand, they would have thought him dead already.

Sadness once again clouded the strong features giving the boy a surreal appearance. Slowly, twin cobalt spheres rose to meet the horrified gaze of the others. Lips quirked up slightly at first, then with more vigor as Heero actually SMILED at his companions.

Heero raised the fist not containing the knife and relaxed his fingers, allowing what the hand concealed to be brought before the other pilots. Small and thoroughly covered in blood, the computer chip gleamed in the fading light.

"I’m free."

The knife clattered noisily to the floor as Heero slumped forward. His smiled remained even as a familiar darkness enveloped him.