Heero In Therapy

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, why would be writing this?

Author's note: I made this for fun and giggles, if you find it offensive, please notify me in your review. No flames, please. I do except constructive criticism. Please Review!

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The nurse at the desk popped back an aspirin and looked at the patients in the waiting room. She had seen them before, and knew she'd probably see them at least another 20 times at least. Her employer specialized in war vets, and lets face it, there where now a lot of them out there that needed therapy.

She glanced around at the people in the room. There first off was Quatra Winner, he head of Winner Enterprises. The war had taken it's toll on him, first his insanity while piloting the Zero system, he had been coming in ever since, even before the war ended. He was right now sitting at the far comer cradling a camel Plushy and repeating the phrase "Serenity now, serenity now, serenity now……"

The next to him was Trowa Barton. He was probably the most sane of the individuals in the room. He sat reading a National Geographic. He was antisocial and quiet. He also had a small identy crisis, being called either Trowa or Triton lead him to a small case of schizophrenia. His soldier persona going to Trowa, his circus performer persona went to Triton. He also had a fetish with lions, explaining the large male African Lion laying near him. Emptied the room of any non-Gundam pilots fast.

Across from the lion boy was Duo Maxwell. This guy seemed nice enough, joking, laughing and generally being fun loving. He was reading the latest copy of Sports Illustrated: Swimsuit edition, something he wouldn't dare read in front of Hilde. Dou claimed to be the God of Death, and so far he had come out more convinced that was then ever. He also had an obsession with his Gundam. Of course the others did too, he was just one of the more extreme cases. He was quite the lady killer, even with a girlfriend.

One of the most unpleasant patients sat at the far end, Wufei Chang. The man was sadistic, obsessed with Justice and His Gundam, whom he affectionly calls "Nataku." He was the most extreme cases of Gundam love in existence. He built a shrine to it, lovingly polished it, fought in it, slept in it, and basically made it one of the dedications of his life. He got even worse, acting around it as if though it was a goddess. He wound up here because his friends found him actually dating "Natku." The reason she really didn't like him is that he was the biggest sexist pig she had ever encountered. He was always prattling on about how weak women were and calling them unworthy, and then hypocritically would go out with her employer, Sally Po.

The most dangerous man in the room was the infamous Heero Yuy. He had been dragged in by his comrades for the first time and sat near her, either musing, or pouting. He was a trained soldier and assassin, dubbed "The Perfect Soldier." From what his friend had told her, he had the habit of always pulling a gun on everyone and anyone, he was also a brilliant hacker. Another Gundam obsessed case as well. According to her records, the death toll by him was in the hundred thousands, quite close to 600,000.

" Mr. Yuy?" the receptionist asked.

"Hn."

"You may go in."

He stood up and drifted into the next room, giving the poor woman the chills. Sally sat with in, reading some notes. Upon seeing him she stood and offered her hand.

"Nice to see you again, Heero." She said with a smile. He ignored her hand and sat on the cot next her chair. 'Let's cut the small talk." He grumbled.

"Okay, now why don't you tell me about your self?" she asked, pen ready over her pad.

"The details of my life are quite inconsequential." He replied.

"Please cooperate, Heero."

"Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly improving computer programmer from Tokyo with a low grade narcolepsy and petion for bigotry. My mother was an eighteen year old Korean prostitute named Lani with three breasts. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outragous claims; like he invented the paperclip. Sometimes he would accuse sunflower seeds of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius posse and the insane lament." Heero paused and looked at Sally.

She had a sweatdrop but waved for him to go on.

"My childhood was typical," Heero continued, "Summers in the Congo, lessons at the shooting range. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds, pretty standard really. When I was twelve I received my first gun, when I was fourteen a rostrian named Bugan ritualistically shaved my testicles." This got a horrified look from Sally.

Heero raised an eyebrow at her discomfort and merely said, "There really is nothing like a shaved scrotal, it's breath taking. I suggest you try it."

"I'll have to make note of that…" Sally murmured and walked up to the door and peeked out.

The other pilots had been busy while she was working with Heero. Duo was running around laughing as Wufei perused him waving his katana, screaming about injustice, the Altron pilot's pants where down around his feet, telling the former Preventer that her boy friend had just been pantsed. Quatre was huddled in the corner still cling to the camel plushy and whimpering his mantra. Trowa remained indifferent as he groomed Lion-san's mane.

"Nurse, cancel all my other appointments." She ordered as she grabbed the aspirin bottle from the other woman's hand and popped back a few herself. As this went on Herro walked over to the chair and picked up Sally's note pad. All that was written on it was this:

Just plain nuts .

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