Hey yall… like I promised I'm out with a NEW story after 3 years of not writing nething… It's Gundam Wing/Sailormoon but more on the plot of Gundam if u catch my drift… newho…. I'm gonna take my time with this so I can do well and so u guys will like it more….

O and there is a reason "he'd or "he had" is repeated a lot.. kinda symbolizes stuff… just read on…

o yea I don't own ne these characters etc etc… ok so here it goes! Xoxo

Chapter 1: Is Nine Ok?

"Scotch," the lazy man mumbled, raising his hand to motion the bar tender.

"Ya sure there? That's bout yer 9th glass son," already filling up another cup of whiskey.

Heero Yuy said nothing back, and waited for the refill. Had he really drank eight? He had intended on 3 that night. Oh well. Not that it mattered anymore, he was going to be walking home that night. He had left his motorcycle at the repair shop after damaging it the last trip after coming home from the bar. Luckily, he had only gotten a few scratches from running into the curb.

He took the next glass and let the fluid run down his throat smoothly. Shortly after, he gained the satisfied warm feeling in his stomach. He greedily finished the last sips and pushed his glass away. Nine was ok right? He glanced down at his watch. 10:00pm. 'Damn' he cursed to himself. He was supposed to be home at 8:00 to receive a phone call from Dr. J on the Destruction Project.

He slowly got up, leaning on the counter while he pulled out a good tip out for the bar tender. Stuffing his wallet back into his back pocket, he clumsily walked out the front door. The chilly caused the hair on his arms to stand up as he headed home through the pitch black and cloudy night. Just as if things couldn't get worse, it began to rain and sleet.

His pace quickened and he was about to make the turn to where his apartment complex was when he passed the bridge and stopped abruptly. He almost forgot. The bridge almost looked as if it could crumble into pieces at any second, but it withheld. Even though objects seemed to be blurry, Heero could just barely make out the figure of a man. In the same dug out hole, and living off the same shopping cart.

"Wasn't sure if you were gonna come," the man in rags grunted, digging through his bags. "Got a preference?"

"Whatever's new" Heero grunted back, holding out the cash.

"Here ya go," the man grabbing the money, before handing Heero the baggy.

Heero shoved the bag in his pocket and started to jog back, trying not to catch anyone's attention. Not like he wasn't already with an emerald green tank top and black shorts on; especially out in 34 degree weather. The wind began to blow harder, soaking his clothes in and out.

After five minutes of jogging and one minute of sprinting, he reached the 6th floor and the 42nd suite of his apartment complex. Taking out his keys, he slid them into the lock hurriedly and threw the door open, hard enough to make a mark in the wall….again.

The drunk man took his wallet and drugs out from his pocket, placed them on the kitchen table, and stumbled against the couch. He slowly brought himself up to his work desk and sat down.

His laptop flashed on and immediately alerted him of unread e-mails. 856 to be exact; without spam. He ignored the warning and x-ed out the screen like he had everyday for the past five years. He brought up his Gundam designing program and continued on his latest model. As he tried to type in the coordinates and numbers he realized he couldn't read the screen at all.

Angered, he slammed his laptop shut and kicked his chair aside. 'Fucking Alcohol'. As he walked over to his room, he glanced over to the answering machine, flashing bright red. If he could read it correctly, it said 35 missed calls. 'Fuck it' he thought. He didn't need to talk to J. That's what the other four pilots were for.

He walked into his bare and undecorated bedroom, not even bothering to turn on the lights. Kicking his shoes off, he immediately collapsed onto his bed. He hadn't even realized how dizzy or how tired he really was until now. Lying on his bed, in soaked, icy clothes, he finally tried to calm himself down.

Nine glasses had definitely aroused his anger, not to mention his emotions as well. How had he gotten himself into this mess? Massaging his forehead in deep thought, he searched his head for some kind of reason. Any reason at all would help, because no matter how hard he seemed to get away from his problems he'd always give up.

Heero had separated himself from the other pilots 3 months after the war had ended, which had been a little over 5 years ago. Hoping to hide himself amongst the large crowds of people, he'd moved to New York City in America. He had tried desperately to get away from his past of fighting, killing and torturing. And even though he'd been close friends with his fellow pilots, he had decided to separate from them as well. Leaving him alone and out of reach, which was exactly what he had wanted.

As far as he knew he had missed out on more events that he could count. Quatre had married a woman named Kiyhara just a year after the end of the war. Only nine months later did he and his wife have 2 twins; a girl and a boy. Everyone had shown up to the wedding and baby shower, except for Heero, who hadn't even read the invitation. He even remembered getting the hurt e-mail from Quatre asking him if everything was alright.

Duo had landed a spot in a famous comedy show, which still kept its ratings up till this day. Heero had watched it once and had turned it off. It was no more different than Duo had ever been with him when they had worked together. He was still the lively and annoying teenager, or man now, that he always had been. The only thing that changed, however, is that he had cut his hair, which Heero didn't noticed until turning the tv on 5 days ago. It looked as if he had cut it 4 years ago and let it grow out again, his braid only reaching mid-back now.

Wufei, if Heero remembered correctly, decided to live a little more quietly as well. He however, was still running champion world wide, for his karate and sword mastery skills. Heero couldn't recall anything past that though. His brain searched disappointed, knowing fully well he didn't know anymore.

Heero moved on searching for anymore details on the remaining pilot; Trowa. After the war ended he remembered Trowa giving them a farewell and heading back to the circus with his sister. After that, Heero had no clue. Trowa had seemed to disappear, like him he supposed. There had to be more. Trowa wasn't one to disappear and stay hidden like Heero had.

Heero felt guilt tug from inside him but he pushed it back down. He had wanted it this way right? He had wanted to sit around, think of new war technologies, drink and get high every day. Or were those hobbies he had just grabbed onto to rid himself from memories? He laughed to himself, noticing objects around him turning black. Just before everything else went black and silent he heard a faint ringing, from the telephone. It was too late though, Heero was out, cold.

Hey! Sorry if it's a little short,slow or boring for now im trying to introduce the plot an characters and so on. After this its gonna start getting realll good. So I hope you were able to sit through that… lol REVIEWS PLEEASSEEE! Gomen Nasai

Xoxo

Chica