Disclaimers: For your information, I do not own Gundam Wing, (the characters just wish I did because they like how I mess around with their lives.)

AN: I know long time no write. And all of you out there must be especially mad because I left you with a cliff-hanger as a parting gift. I should be ashamed of myself but I'm not. Anyway, I'm still going, you guys are gonna love this….

~~~**~~~

The blood from Heero's corpse finally began to stop oozing. It had not been long since the shot had rung out, yet the body was already stiffening. It would seem to anyone that might have walked in, that this was a simple case of suicide. That what was done was done. They would have been unpleasantly surprised to find they were terribly wrong.

At first it was just a twitch of the corpse's fingers, followed by the entire body shuddering. At last Heero let out a quiet groan and sat up. He put a hand to his head and began to massage his temples. "I forgot how much that really hurts," he muttered. "I guess humanity has its drawbacks."

Heero stood slowly, but still wavered a bit. His hand was still at his head. It hurt like hell, but he had once told Trowa that it did. He supposed it was what came with the wish to return home. It was obvious that you could not make a journey without obstacles, the world forbade it. Heero yawned and stretched. Like magic, a pair of snowy white wings protruded from his back. The wings; were perfect in color, and flawless as well.

He turned his head and looked at them. It was not that he didn't expect them, but more over their perfection. He had not expected to them to be white, like the rest of the angelic choruses', but instead a gray or maybe black. He flexed them so that they extended to full length. And full length took up almost the entire room. He smiled, folded his wings, and walked to his bathroom were an old and cracked mirror hung lopsidedly and glanced at the lack of reflection.

He was, like a vampire, without a reflection, and also invisible to the human eye. It wasn't long before he grew restless though. After another few beats of his wings Heero walked to the door that led to the little ledge they called a balcony. He opened the door and was greeted by a burst of cold air he hadn't the senses to feel.

After he stepped out onto the balcony, Heero opened his wings to full capacity and stepped onto the iron railing. He took a deep breath, and jumped…

It took a moment before his wings new what to do. After so many years, of humanity and neglect, they failed to operate for a moment. Then, his angelic instinct overcame him and only seconds before he hit the ground, his wings began to beat wildly to return him to a state of flight.

As he continued to soar higher and higher, Heero couldn't help but swing over the Peacecraft mansion. He landed silently on her large balcony, folding his wings once more; and for a second time that night; entered her room to find her sleeping soundly. It took every ounce of his will power not to touch her face, or run his hands through her hair, or…he was even tempted to crawl in next to her. Still, even if he did, it wouldn't matter. She was as human as the next guy and she wouldn't notice him anymore than the next person.

In a brief point of weakness, Heero knelt beside her bedside again. He allowed himself to kiss her forehead, "I love you, please know that," he whispered, standing up to leave. When he got to the doors, he gave one last look at his loved one, then looking straight forward, walked through the shut door.

~~~**~~~

Relena sat up immediately. Something did not feel as it should. Almost as if there had been a person in her room. No, she had only gotten up a little while ago to lock those doors, when she had thought someone had been there earlier. There was no way anyone could have gotten in… She was probably just dreaming. Although, both times, the mysterious night visitor had been Heero.

~~~**~~~

The jump off of Relena's balcony had not been as bad as the one off of his own and yet worse. This time his wings had started immediately and he did feel as though he were falling. Instead, he felt nothing as he left her here on Earth.

His wings continued to beat steadily on their course, so Heero let his mind wander. He really would miss her. There was really nothing he loved more than when she smiled, or when she said his name. It made him feel as though he could do anything, made him want to live, survive…Made him glad he was human, and now sorry that he would be leaving her. It was too late now though. At least, maybe he would be allowed to watch over her from his new destination.

Heero felt himself get lighter, as if he were paper. At last, he would be going home. He would finally be allowed into Paradise…

~~**~~

Heaven. In all of his life, he had never really imagined he'd be allowed to enter through the pearly gates, to Paradise. His wings had miraculously carried him here, and St. Peter had allowed him in, and yet he felt lost. So Heero decided to make his way to the one place he knew.

As Heaven went, there were homes and buildings from all places and time periods. The souls that dwelt here had taken on images that were somewhat similar to those of their human images. Everyone looked so beautiful, for in God's eye all are beautiful, each in their unique way. Heero passed them all with little interest, looking for only one thing. He stopped as he passed a hovel.

It looked desolate and majestic all in one. He knew this place well. After all, it was here that he got his second chance. Heero took a breath and entered reverently, he noticed a young soul sitting in a chair, writing in a notebook. He cleared his throat, and the soul looked up. "Hello," she said giving him a large smile. "Can I help you?"

Heero nodded, "Yes. Is she here?" he asked hesitantly.

The soul frowned. "No, sorry. St. Mary, was needed somewhere, she should be back soon, so please, rest here. There will be a room, you'll find it," she said assuringly.

He nodded again, and walked to the open door. It led to a hall, which had a single open door. He entered that and found himself in a bedroom. It was nothing fancy, yet perfectly comfortable. The bed looked warm and the rest of the room, equally inviting.

The tired soul practically fell onto the bed from an unknown exhaustion. Despite his current fatigue, Heero could not find sleep. After a few minutes of tossing and turning he lay on his back and began to think. He had been in this room but once before.

It had been so long ago come to think of it, A.C. 014 to be exact, close to two hundred years. The first couple years after the colonies had been launched were violent ones. Wars were fought on the earth, governments toppled, and you never lived a day without fear. In all of that lifetime, Heero, or Odin as was his name, had been a cold-blooded killer. It mattered not who he killed; politicians, soldiers, civilians; they paid with their lives, because of his selfishness. His family, he had had one once. But a military organization fighting against the government had secretly kidnapped his family, forcing him to do their dirty work.

In A.C. 009, an attack on the base his family had been kept hostage at had led to their deaths. That had been Heero's breaking point. He managed to escape the group, but he left a broken man, a broken man in the body of a well oiled killing machine. The rebels had been wise, to want him on their side. He had spent many years learning martial arts and how to wield a weapon. But he never thought he would use his training. Odin had learned fighting to protect himself and his little sister, to make his parents proud and to match up with his older brother. He never thought anything like that would have happened.

But when it, did, he became dead. Without his brother and sister and mother and father he had nothing to live for. After walking about the ruined streets of the town that had hid the base, a government military leader persuaded him not to let his talents go to waste. Odin did not struggle and went with him. Because of his lack of life, but expert fighting skills, Odin became the military's star assassin. He would go on suicide missions, assassinate government officials that were uncooperative with the military or whatever, he was one the one that carried out the threats that were not taken seriously. And he did it all without any guilt. He had nothing left.

For five years he lived that way. When one government was done with him he went to the next one. He didn't care where or for what purpose. When he finally died, he had not seen a white light like so many other's said they did. The light he saw looked more like fire, hell's fire. Except it seemed to be dowsed and his vision had filled with smoke.

When the smoke cleared he had found himself in a barren land, what little ground he could see was dusty and dead, the rest was covered with skulls. A single cross made up of two sticks tied together seemed to be glowing in the distance. Odin staggered toward it. Minutes stretched into hours, at last he reached the cross, and sitting on a rock next to it, a woman in a tattered black dress was praying. She too, appeared to glow.

"Sit down Odin, we've things to discuss," she said without looking toward him.

Odin noticed another rock across from the woman and sat down. When she looked at him, he noticed her eyes looked red, as if she'd been crying, her hair, was tangled, as if she had rubbed it dry.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Mary Magdalene. Odin, perhaps, you have never thought of God after your family died, but the Lord has thought of you everyday, as He does all His children. Your family; all of them have watched how you have lived your life and it has hurt them very deeply. You may not care whether or not you go to Heaven or to hell, but they do."

Odin closed his eyes and shook his head, "It doesn't matter now, I'm going to hell, it's not worth giving me the details," he replied angrily. "It's too late to change what's been done."

The saint laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, "It is never too late to ask forgiveness."

He lifted his head, "What…what must I do? T…t...to see my family again?" he asked shyly.

Mary smiled, "You must be truly sorry for what you have done, as well as serve a penance."

"Penance?" he questioned.

She nodded, "Yes, a type of way to make it up to the Lord. He asks this of you. Odin, some time from now, there will be a great war, and the fate of it will rest in the hands of two people. They will give each other strength and fight battles, each in their own way. One will be a warrior, the other a princess. I can not tell you anything of the princess, but the warrior, he must have a pure heart. A heart that truly strives for peace above all else.

"It was the war that caused you to lose your humanity, the circumstances that forced your heart to harden. You do not have to accept this, and you may still see Heaven. It is your choice, but for true peace to be attained in the future a heart such as yours is required. Odin,"

"I'll do it," he said. His voice sounded neither weak nor unsure. "I owe this to too many people. I'll do whatever the Lord asks of me."

The saint nodded and made the sign of the Cross. "God be with you," she murmured.

From that point on all there was darkness. For almost two-hundred years he waited, his only thoughts were of his family. How he would do anything for them.

~~**~~

Heero sat up in his bed. He wondered what became of his family. Although he would have liked to go look for them, he decided against it. He would not dare be so rude as to keep Mary waiting if she should return early. But also, in his time of transition, he'd learned to simple trust God for some things. When the Lord chose to present him with his family would be well enough for him. He laid back, and luckily slumber found him, and he slept in a dreamless sleep.

~~**~~

AN: What'd ya think? Hope you all liked it. I hope it's not too far fetched. Like it, hate it, tell me. Any comments are welcome.