Note: Lo, this is something that's been digging at me. When I was young- okay, okay, okay – three years ago happy? Anyway at the ripe ol' age of 15, I started writing Original Characters…. Lots of them- most of them 'based' in Gundam Wing- if you like one let me know- but please realize that the chances of me finishing these, or putting one up in it's own little fic are near zip. Enjoy the bouts of randomness. These are not challenges- nor requests, and if you 'steal' them, try to be original.

Disclaimer-For-All: I do not own Gundam Wing, then again, can any idea ever be owned by anyone? None-the-less, the storys here are of my own creation- if a bit, well, odd.

Sparks and Stars

Abby Ebon

Summary: Obviously Spark's isn't normal –after all being Lil'ori, a type of magical being that can shape-shift and travel through time and dimensions, isn't normal at all. Why do Spark's memories fail him? Why did his parents abandon him? How the hell did he end up in a Gundam pilot's bedroom? The answer lies with Trieze- who isn't as dead as everyone thinks.

Starting Things with a Bang

All right this is hard to begin, but like a friend of mine always says; begin at the beginning- so my name? Well, that's dangerous for you to know, so call me …Spark, Any cracks on that and I'll show you what sparks look like, inside your head that is.

Let's see I was born in the year 1988 AD, I led a boring teenage life till 2001, the year I was supposed to go into High School.

I never started High School, at least not where I was supposed to start it at. I can't really explain what happened, not exactly. My parents, if I ever found them, would know a lot more then me.

My parents… Hm, how to explain this… Well till the age of ten, my people, which are a type of magical being that can shape-shift and travel through time and dimensions, look just like a normal person, and don't start doing the real freaky magical stuff till after their fifteenth birthday.

Normally our people, who are called Lil'ori, never leave their young. I guess I'm an exception, I found all this out on my own. I grew up with humans who I thought were my parents, who never told me anything, if they knew anything.

Which is… doubtful…

Well, I'll put it in easy to understand terms, apparently on the freaky magical stuff I'm an early bloomer. Because on my fourteenth birthday, (a month before school started) I went to sleep in my own bed, and woke up in the year 195, AC.

My story starts there.

Everything in my head hurt, it felt as if everything that had ever happened had been painfully pounded into my head by a hammer and chisel. That was the first thing I noticed.

The second…

The boys; one with blond hair and blue eyes, and another with brown hair with a bang that covered his eye- the one eye you could see was green.

Suffice to say, we were all startled to see each other…I screeched, the kindly looking blond flinched and was rubbing his chest, and the brown haired boy looked ready to shoot me. I didn't see a weapon so I assumed I was safe –for a time.

After struggling away from them, (while getting tangled up in the sheets and landing in a heap on the floor) the blond was trying to hide a smile with his hand- and the other was looking more amused then murderous….

Then, apparently, their room mates begin to show up.

First was a boy with hair down to his butt, and it was in a braid. He had a gun. He snapped on the light- took one look at me and started laughing. I would too- after all I was still tangled in the sheets.

The blue eyed boy with intense eyes, which looked ready to kill- he too, had a gun. I felt this was a recurring theme.

Then again, I'm not perfect- and the third boy, this one black haired and Asian- he had a sword- a freak'n sword.

Oh god, I'm going to die. 'Bout then I noticed the blond go for a knife on the dresser- I screwed my eyes shut and prepared to have my throat cut. I wondered, frantically, where I was- and how I'd gotten here- and most important to me (for some reason) where were they going to stash my body.

I heard a ripping sound and opened one eye, the blond was cutting me out of the sheets. They looked expensive- the guilt ate at me. The blond smiled- and I glanced around at the other boys again. They looked more amused now then murderous.

"What," Began the boy-with-sword (who might I say, looked yummy without a shirt on) "And how, did you get in here?" He finished, the sword was gone- apparently I was no longer a threat.

Hell, if you intended to help a mystery kid who proofed right into your (and by the look of it) and your lovers room- (without any weapons, and in his tank top and boxers). And, taking pity on the poor sap, you decided to cut him out of some sheets with a knife - and he screwed up his eyes and waited for death- I wouldn't be feeling very threatened either- theoretically.

"Um…I don't know. I remember drinking rum for the first time- it is- was, my birthday. Uh, maybe…maybe, it's a prank?" I asked, I sounded so hopeful I winched. The blond and braided boy glanced at each other- the other three, especially the brunets, were stoic. The guy-with-sword seemed wary.

Here I was, a newly-made fourteen year old (who looked more like a twelve year old – I'm short) trying to reason my way, logically, out of an illogical event.

"What's your name kid?" I tried not to take offence- they looked one, maybe two years older then me.

"I, ohm," I screwed my face up. This wasn't a hard question- I remembered who I was. Did I…have no name? "I…don't …that is…" I was losing it- and they didn't look like the type you kept waiting. I looked up into the eyes of the blue eyed blond. He nodded, slowly, like he understood- maybe he did, maybe he could look right through me.

"He doesn't know." The blond whispered.

I didn't – couldn't meet their eyes. I felt something crush me. I didn't know my own name. How pathetic.

"Hey, don't cry kid- it's alright." The braided boy assured, awkwardly.

He knelt beside me; put his hand on my shoulder- and told me things would be okay. I may sound crazy, but I believed him. I glanced at him, and he winked. I brushed my cheeks- there was wetness, but all of them ignored my little brake down.

"If you don't have a name – I'll give you one." The braided boy assured, I heard a snort- it was the man with a sword.

"Maxwell, he isn't a puppy, you can't just name him- and then keep him." 'Maxwell', the braided man, snorted. An interesting light entered I saw it for what it was; a warning. Those two were together, lovers, just like the blond and green eye.

"Whatever, Chang…." The braided one replied, waving him off.

"Sparks." The blond suddenly said. I blinked at him- he had to be kidding me. No way was I going to be called that, it's like what you'd call a puppy. Unluckily for me, it would stick. I saw green-eyes and the intense blue-eyed ones quirk grins- 'turds.

"Winner…" Maxwell groaned- at least someone agreed with me.

Apparently not enough- because the braided-one started laughing- my hero, the blond chuckled.

Joke was on me, oh well, at least I wasn't dead.

Yet….