Hey there! Thank you for the reviews that I received from the last chapter. They are all very helpful to keep me motivated. My plot bunnies enjoyed munching on them. Some of you are either psychic or think the same way I do. . Which freaks me out.

Anyways! If you want a funnier story, I would suggest dating 101, which I am also updating on a weekly basis Much like this one. I thought I could have a dark on and a lighter on to satisfy my moods. Also I apologize for this chapter being one of the shorter ones. I am in the middle of finals for the next two weeks. but at least it's an update!

Ch 16

The dark hole of an apartment was dimly lit except for a medical kit and a cot in the bedroom a desk in the living room area and a cup, plate and set of chopsticks in the kitchen. It had sat like that for a while. Nothing changing within, the owner had obviously not been home in a while. There was an alarm that looked more than standard next to the door, which was an interesting addition to the otherwise lacking apartment, especially considering that there was nothing notable to worry about for theft.

It had a silence to it. Not a peaceful one, not a crypt -like one either. Just oppressive silence. The rattle of keys in the door change that and the man who had walked in after that hit the alarm codes rapidly in quick succession.

He shut the door locking the locks and moved slowly and setting his bag next to the desk. Grabbing the medical kit he moved to the bathroom and switched on the lights. Deep blue eyes glanced around making sure nothing had changed in his absence and began peeling his clothes off slowly. Heading to the bathroom he used the sink to wash out the wound on his upper arm that was bleeding; it was the torn skin of shrapnel wound. Nothing had been imbedded, but the gash was big enough for concern.

He pulled out silk thread sutures and a needle and began popping it through slowly fatigue making his hand tremble and shake. He was aware that he could not keep up his effort for very much longer. He had hit mostly dead ends. The fighting was non-stop. And his emotions were...

He shook his head quickly, derailing thoughts again and ran a hand through his short, brown hair. It was sticky with sweat and grime; a shower would be good later. He needed to keep his limited functioning body operational, he knew that he had pushing its boundaries lately, but didn't seem to find the drive to care as much.

He set about moving as quickly as he could get his fingers to move and began pushing the needle through his skim. Up, around through, up around through, up around through...

When he finally finished he glanced in the mirror. He was looking much thinner than normal and dirtier. Perhaps he should shower first...

No he had priorities.

He trudged heavier then he normally would and pulled out his laptop that was looking more scuffed as time went on. He peeled it open and checked his Preventer inbox first. Commander Une said she received the mission reports from the L-three rebel faction that he was sent in to dismantle. She also sent a note specifically to rest up and recoup. She would need him again in two days if he felt fit enough to function. He sighed and replied, 'Acceptable.' and hit send.

He needed a lot more time to recuperate all the damage done over the last several months, but he was needed, by everyone. Besides, he wasn't able to sleep that well anymore anyways. Sally had given him sleeping aids, but he detested the idea of taking them especially if he needed to be operational in such short return times. He couldn't take them on missions. It was too high of a mental faculty's inhibitor to be worth the risk. Lack of sleep out-weighted that danger.

He checked over his personal secured pilot network and found no new messages. Scanning news feeds, there was plenty of information, but nothing he was looking for.

He opened a folder on the desktop of his computer and began his normal traces; new inmates in the prison system, their picture were being pulled up. The most recent transfer of prisoner number 503492-T popped up, but instead of it being a transfer the computer read in that the prisoner had been dropped from the system. Heero sighed softly to himself. That was the last trail that he had.

There was nothing left he could do. Prisoner number 503492-T had been removed from the international prison system. He could be anywhere and Heero didn't have any leads. Months of waiting to see if something would be different of trying to find his missing...

Heero stood up and closed the laptop. He couldn't deal with this new event. He didn't know what to do anymore.

He hobbled over to the bathroom and began running the hot water in the shower. It was time to take care of himself, for a little while at least.

He looked into the mirror in front of him and felt an overwhelming crushing emotion rise making him nauseated. He turned and dry-heaved into the toilet next to the bathroom sink. Nothing came up, but stomach acid. The foul taste burned on his tongue, but Heero was well used to it by now. He stepped into the shower and spit once before letting the hot water cover him. He briefly used the soap and shampoo on his skin, before stepping out. His clothes were in the bag, so he went over and pulled a pair of sweats.

He should eat something. He knew he should. But he couldn't bring himself to grab one of the protein bars out of his bag. Instead he walked over to the cot and lay down sweats sitting next to him and waited for sleep to come.

He had lost all trace of Wufei Chang. And he was just so tired.

Heero awoke abruptly after three hours of sleep. It wasn't uncommon for him anymore to not sleep for long. He did not know if it was a hang up from the war or his...feelings that had been plaguing him since Wufei had disappeared from all contact and visitation rights that a prisoner in his position was allowed to have.

He grabbed a protein bar out of his bag and chewed on it absently as he began running his security camera patch through on the jails that didn't have closed circuits. In the back of his mind he knew that this would lead him nowhere. The only prisons that had open camera feeds were low security prisons and there was no way someone who was meant to disappear would be there.

He surreptitiously checked his secured email that the other pilots were all networked into. Nothing. Trowa had been on a top mission from Une and Quatre assured him it was of utmost importance. Quatre had been working non-stop with the Une as the main coordinator of mission planning and outlines. He also still maintained the figure head position at WEI in case he needed those political and economic ties.

Duo had his feelers out in the underworld, but at the same time they were slowly being cut off from one angle or another. Either because his informants were executed under hostile take-overs from other gangs or simply because it was starting to get around that he may be in league with the Preventers. It put him at risk. He was currently on the fence of which way to go. If he stayed in the middle much longer it would be a risk that was no longer tolerable to his safety level.

And Wufei had been missing for nine months.

Heero watched the forms on his screen move around. Local security wardens to all of the cameras he could patch into. No one new worth looking into. He had a facial recognition program running on the past recordings, but nothing came up.

Heero opened the files on his computer to the prison that was the initial point it was in the northern center of North America. Mainly flat lands with scattered woods. He pulled up dossiers on all the current prison guards that were working in the facility. Mainly retired-police officers and ex-Oz. Soldiers that couldn't integrate without holding a gun at some point throughout their day.

The warden Alan Scott was someone of interest and yet he appeared to have no connections to the Gundam pilots or Wufei in any way. Heero was frustrated. He was never the investigator of the group. He just wasn't attuned to the finer nuances it took to read people's reactions. He was aware that he was told to follow his own emotions, but he didn't understand the drives he felt more than half the time. The hesitation and the need to find Wufei either...

He shut his laptop and sat in the dim room. The colony day-light cycle was seeping under the blinds. He took another bite of his bar. He needed to do something. In the past it would have been the gym, or eating food that was the correct nutrient content and caloric content he needed. Or cleaning his gun, but that was usually what he did to prep for missions.

But he couldn't just sit here.

He flipped open his cell phone and hit the number four on speed dial. -Quatre here.-

"I need a mission."

There was an exasperated sigh on the other end. -Heero I know that we are swamped and could use you, but you has not had adequate downtime regardless. You just got back!-

"Irrelevant."

-Irrelevant my left foot, Heero. I read your mission report that was a highly dangerous situation you took out.-

"I am operational."

-No.-

Heero fell silent as did the boy on the other end of the line. And he tried the one thing he knew seemed to always work with Quatre, "Please."

The silence rang on for thirty seconds and then -Fine. I'll have your next mission brief for you within an hour. You are not set to move for three days, it should allow our team to get you proper intelligence on the case.-

"Hn." Heero hung up the phone. It would allow him to concentrate on something. To focus on getting adequately healed for the next mission. To forget other things...

That was the most appealing part.

TBC...

Alright! New viewpoint. Reviews are craved like something that is always craved. :)

-Silverserpent