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Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer, I don't own Gundam wing or any characters, places or things there in. I'm writing this for fun so please don't sue me! And I would prefer nobody use my original characters.

Notes: All right, I admit I am a bit late in updating, but I'm hoping you'll all be gracious and forgive me! ^_^ I'm trying to write a chapter for every one I update and since I'm incredibly slow…… Oh, I'm sorry about how weird my paragraphs look but when ever I convert it to html half of them are on the side and the other half are indented, and since I can't figure out how to indent just the first line html I have to do it the other way.

Chapter Two

(Found)

He was warm. That was the first thing he noticed when he awoke from the black abyss in which he slept. Keeping his breathing and heart rate slow and even while his senses quickly came alive. Waking this way was simply second nature to him he'd been doing it so long. Keeping his eyes shut he studied his surroundings. He was lying on his side under several humming blankets, electric thermals. His head was cushioned against a small pillow and the surface beneath him was soft. Shifting his position ever so slightly, he encountered resistance behind his back, ah, a sofa then. The quiet sounds of whispers, snores and typing said that he was in a large room and not alone, but above all, he noticed the warmth. He hadn't felt warm in so long, how had he gotten warm? The last thing available to memory was cold and ice. He had been found obviously… hmmm, he was so tired, why did he wake up? He'd wanted to sleep for eternity.

There was nothing to wake up to; all that awaited him was ice, black ice. He'd played their game and he was tired of dancing, no he would not wake. The only thing to have woken him in the first place was this strange warmth, but that could not hold him, nothing would hold him anymore. Slowly he began to fade away, thoughts evaporating like wisps of steam. His breathing slowed to nothing, his pulse stopped. Suddenly he was jerked back. No… something was touching him, on his shoulder. Quick as lightning he grabbed the offending thing and held it away from him. Purposefully opening his eyes he glared at the man leaning over him.

Gerry crouched on his heals and grinned at the youth lying on the couch.

"Knew you were faking, parents instinct," he whispered. His grin faltered as he locked gazes with the boy in front of him. This kids eyes were the deepest, darkest blue he'd ever seen, and so blank. Gazing down he found he couldn't look long into that lifeless stare. Shifting his gaze away he discovered he was losing circulation in the hand he'd laid on the youth's shoulder.

"Hey," he asked, wiggling his fingers "would you mind letting my hand go," the vice like grip loosened in answer and he pulled his aching hand back, the kid definitely had strength. Gerry leaned back on his heals and slowly reached his other hand to the table next to the couch, retrieving some papers and a pen. Then he moved back and sat on the coffee table just in front of the sofa facing the boy. The kid's eyes followed his every move, and regarded him coldly as he held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Hey it's okay, nobody's gonna hurt you," Gerry said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice, the boy didn't move.

He continued to stare at the red haired man in front of him as the fellow cleared his throat and called over his shoulder to a black man passing by to check the weather again. His mind immediately sizing the two of them up as potential threats and storing the information away. Now that his eyes were open he took a quick survey of the room. It was a police station with desks and boards with case notices tacked on. Few people were moving about, most appeared to be either sleeping or sipping coffee. He turned his gaze back to Red as he scratched at an incoming beard and introduced himself, never looking in his eyes longer then a confirming glance.

"I'm Gerry Mitchel, my partner and I found you under a pile of snow on a street bench several hours ago, you were nearly frozen," yes, this was already known. He simply stared at him from his position on the sofa. The police officer shifted uncomfortably under his silent scrutiny. Gerry tapped the pen against the paper in his hand and pushed on.

"Look, we need to get some things sorted out and then you can go home in the morning, what's your name son?" Name?

"I have none," Gerry raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. It was true, he had no name, he'd had code names, a different one for each mission. Orion, Heero, Dayvan, Odin, Janus, but a not a permanent one, not one that was his. He mentally beat himself. Idiot, you should have just made one up, this will make them suspicious! It was too late, Gerry, had started talking again.

"Okay, do you have a home?"

"No," no he had no home.

"Do you have a family, someone who takes care of you?" Family, he didn't know that word, he had heard others use it, but no matter how many times he heard it he could never remember what it meant. He would have to look it up again. Some who took care of him? An interesting concept, he thought with a smirk.

"No"

"How old are you?"

"I don't know," another look. Gerry ran a hand through his hair and sighed, he glanced at him yet again and stood up.

"Alright," Gerry said in a low voice " stay there, try to get some more sleep, I'll be back in a bit with some food for you, we're snowed in so it'll be awhile before any of us can leave." He stared at the man as he headed off through the crowd of desks and sleepers occupying the room, moving towards a door at the far end. Then he closed his eyes and sunk back into the warmth that had brought him back.

~~~~~

Gerry walked through the maze of desks, until he reached the captain's door. All the while feeling the boys cold eyes boring into the back of his neck. He walked through the door with out even knocking, and slammed it behind him shaking the captain out of a light dose. He slumped into a chair in front of his desk and ran both hands threw his hair. The captain looked across at him sleepily.

"You know Gerry, my Grandmother used to say that if you kept doing that it'd make you go bald,"

Gerry snorted. "Going bald is the least of my troubles at the moment," the captain woke up slightly.

"What's up?" he asked. Gerry groaned and slumped farther down in his chair.

"Sleeping beauty just woke up"

"The kid you brought in?" the captain asked. Gerry nodded. "well, what's the problem?"

"Oh, it's not really a problem just," Gerry sighed "judging from how we found him, the condition of his clothes, and what he just told me. He's a street kid, no home, no parents." The captain nodded.

"You know what we have to do then," Gerry bit his lip, and tapped his foot against the wooden desk in front of him.

"Yeah, I'll call Anna when the sun comes up, I know she's got room." He glanced back at the door behind him. "I don't know though, there's something different about this kid," the captain just shook his head

"The wars were hard on everybody, most of all the homeless, and a lot of people became homeless because of the wars," Gerry nodded, but continued to frown at the door.

~~~~~

Gerry sat at his desk impatiently drumming his fingers and watching the clock. It had stopped snowing and Tony said that people were being sent out to clear the roads. Another minute ticked by, and at exactly seven am, just as the sun was coming up, Gerry pulled over his desk vid link, and dialed up his eldest. After a few moments of ringing a frazzled and groggy looking thirty-three year old red head appeared on the screen. She scowled up at him in her Chili Pepper bathrobe with her hair falling out of a messy ponytail. In the background he could see numerous pieces of wrapping materials littered about. He smiled as she placed both hands on either side of the vid link and growled at him.

"Dad, it is seven in the morning, the sun isn't even up properly and I haven't had breakfast, what the hell do you want?" He chuckled, and rubbed the circles he was sure were forming under his eyes.

"Good morning and happy holidays to you too, sweetie." Anna merely scowled at him. "Alright, alright," he said, "You're going to be having a new addition to your holiday madness." She frowned and grabbed a chair from behind.

"What happened."

"Tony and I found him last night on patrol buried under a snowdrift on a street bench. We got him dry and warm and he's okay, but he's a street kid. No family, no home, he doesn't even have a name." Anna frowned.

"Hmm, really,"

Gerry cocked his head "What?"

"Well, it's just kind of unusual. Most children who grow up on the streets either receive names from other kids, or pick one out themselves. How old is he?"

"He doesn't know, but he looks about sixteen, maybe a little older," Anna sighed, and started to redo her pony tale

"You know that at that age he's got about zero chance of being adopted. Everybody wants babies," He nodded.

"Yeah, but we can't just throw him out on the street again."

"I didn't say that, but he's probably got a good idea of his chances at an orphanage. By that age they usually figure, they've survived this long on the streets, they have a better chance to make it on their own. You may have some trouble convincing him to cooperate."

"Hrrm, that's not all we may have trouble with," he grumbled into his stubble. Anna stopped and looked at him, hard.

"What do you mean?"

Gerry shrugged, "Just a feeling I got from him." he shook his head and looked his daughter straight in the eye "I'm familiar with street kids, gangs, police veterans and even a few soldiers. But I've never seen eyes that cold and dead." Suddenly Gerry felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, a sliver of cold raced down his spine, and on the screen Anna nodded.

"Noted, I'll be by as soon I'm awake to pick him up."

"Uh, you may have to wait until they clear the roads, we had a freak storm last night and we all got snowed in."

"Oh, and I thought you were just working late!" She said with a grin, and Gerry shook his finger at her.

"By honey."

"Bye, Dad." He shut down the link and leaned back, cracking his neck, then swiveled around in his form-fitting chair and looked back at the boy staring at him from the couch. With a sigh he reached into his left-hand drawer and pulled out several snacks he'd gotten from the vending machine, along with the kid's old clothes. He got up and made his way over to the silent youth sitting on his sofa. With a long suffering groan he sat back down on the coffee table, pushing various items out of the way, and handed the junk food and clothes to the nameless kid across from him. The boy took the chips and candy and began to mechanically shove it down his mouth. Gerry watched this strange child while he concentrated on the food, not even seeming to taste it, much less care about what he was eating.

"We're going to have to send you to an orphanage," he said, the boy didn't look up. Gerry shifted his weight on the flimsy table. "It's not exactly a seaside estate with family and servants, but at least you'll have a free roof over your head and food on your plate. Plus you'll get to go to school," he pointed out. The boy didn't speak, or even acknowledge his presence. Gerry nodded and hung his head, then got up to leave "ah, someone will be by to pick you up in a bit, and Tony said you can keep the sweats." He watched him for a minute more before turning and shuffling back to his desk, leaving the boy to whatever thoughts he had.

~~~~~

He was in fact thinking out a plan. He would not stay at the orphanage; such a place was not for him. He was not looking for a seaside estate, if he had been he would have stayed in one of Quatre's many empty homes. School was out of the question as well, he had been required to attend several during different missions, but that was simply cover, he already knew everything they taught. He tucked his stockinged feet under the heated blanket and chewed on a brown bar filled with nuts and caramel. No, he could not be around people; he only brought about their destruction. War torn fields stripped of any green, bodies littering the ground like fallen leaves; ashes falling like snow flakes. Damn, he was fading again. It was becoming more and more difficult to stay awake recently. His thoughts tumbled over themselves haphazardly falling here and there. He mentally shook himself and focussed. He wondered if he shook his thoughts enough, if they might fall together correctly like ice cubes in a tray.

It would be impractical to do anything now. There were too many trained officers to attempt escape here, and he didn't want to kill them all. It would be difficult to disappear again if he was being hunted for the death of a dozen officers. He would go quietly with whomever had been sent to retrieve him, and wait. A few days later, after interests had cooled, he would leave, using the days he was there to check out security of the place. Though he doubted there would be much, if any. Finishing off the last of the snacks he lay back down, studying the ceiling.

He was so tired; he always felt tired now, like an old old man his limbs ached with weariness and cold from the black ice inside. Reaching up, he gently felt his brow and cheek bone where they had turned black and blue. He closed his eyes; those four men probably wouldn't be found for a day or so and would doubtfully be recognizable as anyone when they were. Mentally counting off he added four to the list, keeping track of every one, starting with the first. With sundress and golden hair, a puppy in one hand and tiny flower held out in the other, his first he would remember forever.

~~~~~

Anna arrived as soon as she could, it had taken awhile for the roads to be cleared enough for driving but she was here. Rubbing her gloved hands together she hurried up the steps and through the front doors. Shrugging off her scarf and jacket she returned a few greetings and walked towards her father's desk. She smiled softly to herself, looking down at the sleeping man. One side of his face was pressed against his desktop, covering various papers, pamphlets and notes. She giggled quietly when a snort escaped him and he huffed in his sleep. An evil smile played across her features as she pulled off her gloves and stuck her ice-cold fingers down the back of his shirt.

"NO, not the monkeys!" he yelled sitting up straight with look of terror and a notepaper stuck to his face. Gerry blinked sleepily at the laughing figure of his daughter. "What?" he asked, Anna simply shook her head and pointed to his cheek. Reaching up he quickly pulled the sticky note off his face and glared at her. "That was not funny Anna," he said in his best 'father-is-very-displeased' voice. Anna smiled fondly at the grumpy old man; the children at the orphanage liked to call him 'The Curmudgeon', and he certainly was.

"It's not my fault that waking you up requires drastic measures."

"It doesn't, you just like to be cruel." He said rubbing his back where her fingers had been moments earlier. Anna's grin became serious remembering why she was here; this was not a pleasure visit. Gerry noticed his girl's playful smile slip and become solemn. He nodded and got up, heading over to the sofa. Anna followed her fathers gaze to the well-loved couch across from his desk. Remaining where she was she looked over the boy sadly.

The poor thing looked like he was about to just give up and die on them right then and there. She watched as her father roused the kid and managed to get him up. All the while her entire attention was riveted on the boy as he stood. He had a certain bearing about him, a dangerous presence that, coupled with the look (or rather lack there of) in his eyes, raised goose bumps on her flesh. Anna quickly looked away, unable to keep eye contact any longer, something was very wrong in there. Recovering herself, she surveyed the rest of him. He was small, and with out the multiple layers of dirt she knew had been there before the nurse cleaned him up, he was quite hansom for a boy his age. He was wearing Tony's old sweats, which were quite a bit big for him. The elastic and string helped to keep the pants on his hips, but the shirt looked as if it were about to fall off. The neckline hung well off his right shoulder and the giant sleeves swallowed his arms. Under his arm he carried a torn jacket and his old clothes, Anna held out her hand when he reached her.

"Hi," she said, making her voice gentle and non-threatening. He made no move to take her hand just continued to glare, unblinking. Anna slowly withdrew her hand, and handed him the extra jacket she'd brought. After he shrugged it on, she said

"Come on," reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. Before she could touch him he stepped out of her grasp and walked towards the door in one fluid movement, avoiding contact as if he were no more then air and never saying a word. Anna frowned, okay then, no touching; she shook her head and hurried to catch up with him.

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