Entering the town, Heero immediately noticed a difference. Trash was everywhere, groups of people huddled together for warmth while the snow fell around them and landed on their ripped and dirty clothes. He saw people he knew, people he knew were not poor, laying on the ground covered in whatever they could find to make blankets.

As he passed them, he noticed that no one looked directly at him. Those that he knew, the ones laying on in the snow, those standing near small fires, none of them looked at him.

Heero continued down the street where his apartment building was and watched all that was going on around him. Walking slower, he saw people he knew as his neighbors.

He saw the old man that lived next door to him. The poor man lived alone, if one did not consider his only companion, a Siberian husky by the name of George. The man had character, Heero had to give him that much.

The old man, Mr. Sumitsu, was lying in the snow, though. And for no reason that Heero could see, some OZ soldiers were beating him. What were OZ soldiers doing here? Ignore it. "Stop!" He yelled at them and tried to pull them away, but he couldnt. Shock came over his face as he grabbed for one of the soldiers and his hand passed through the mans coat, as if it was nonexistent. Heero stood in complete disbelief. He brought his hand up and stared at it like it was a foreign object. Mouth gaping, he continued to stare at his hand long after the soldiers had left and the old man curled up into a ball under a discarded, ripped, wet blanket.

When the initial astonishment subsided, Heero turned, horror on his face, to Chesara. She stood about ten feet away, her hands to her side and an apologetic expression on her face. She had watched the whole thing in silence.

"Whats going on?" He muttered to her.

"I told you," Chesara answered flatly, "You have never been born. Heero Yuy, the Gundam pilot, does not exist."

"What do you mean," argued Heero, "I am Heero Yuy, the Gundam pilot and I do exist. Im standing right here!"

"Try it," Chesara told him, nodding towards the old man.

Heero understood and turned to him. "Mr. Sumitsu," he said, kneeling down next to the man and trying to touch him. "Mr. Sumitsu? Can you see me?" The man did not even blink. He was apparently watching the snow fall, looking directly in Heeros direction, but not at him.

Heero abruptly turned from the old man and ran into his apartment building. He hurried up the steps and passed a few rats, discarded items of trash and something that he did not recognize and really did not feel the need to investigate. He noticed that the walls we chipping and the stairway banister was broken in some places. He finally reached his floor and before he could stop himself, he was about to crash right into his door.

Strangely, Heero did not run into the door, but instead went right through it. He was able to stop himself in the middle of what would and should have been his living room. The room that he stood in, though, was empty and looked as though it had not been lived in for a very long time.

Now Heero was beginning to believe that this crazy girl was not lying. Did he really did not exist? He was beginning to believe her. He was a ghost of a person who did not ever live. "Why is the town like this?" he asked. Somehow he knew that Chesara was right behind him.

"It is the same time, but a different future," Chesara told him, walking up to stand closer to the boy, "OZ won the war, Heero. You were not there to fight for the colonies or prevent the people of Earth from being oppressed. The people you knew now live in poverty and famine. OZ raised taxes and forced over half the population of the Earth and colonies out onto the streets."

"What about Treize, and Zechs?"

"Both are still with OZ, and still alive, but neither have any power. They are oppressed themselves, merely slaves for the higher OZ officials."

"But what does all this have to do with me?" Heero asked, feeling a headache coming on.

"All this happened because you were never born," replied Chesara matter-of-factly.

This cannot be real, Heero thought. "If I was never born," he solicited, "then who am I?"

"Your nobody," said Chesara. "Who would you be if you were never born?"

"This is too strange," Heero whispered to himself. None of this made sense. He had been trained to think logically, to determine the reality around him. But none of this pieced together at all.

Chesara snickered. "Youll see a lot of strange things from now on," she told him.

Heero became quiet, trying to grasp onto all that she, his guardian angel, had said. Suddenly an idea came to him. "What about the others? Quatre, Trowa, Wufei, Duo? Werent they there to fight?"

Chesara lowered her head and took a deep breath. "Certain obstacles prevented them from achieving their goals."

Turning to face her, Heero brought a determined look to his features. Anger flushed him and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides. He gained a harsh tone in his voice. "Show me where they are."

Chesara took in another deep breath. After some silence, she nodded.

* * * *

In a flash of light, Heero found himself standing in the middle of a hallway. Men and women in white robes passed by and through him. Some carried notebooks; others carried folders and some of them rushed passed with readied needles in their hands.

"Where are we?" Heero asked as a woman passed through him almost at a run while she prepared a needle.

"In General Evangelical Lutheran Hospital and Asylum," Chesara said in a monotone voice.

"Why are we here?"

"Follow me." Chesara turned and walked right through the wall of a nearby room. Obediently, Heero followed.

As Heero passed through the wall, he saw what kind of room they were entering. He passed through the walls padding and stepped onto the cushy floor. It was disturbingly quite and dim in the room, he did not like it. Heero looked around the padded room and noted its features. The only source of light was a single florescent light fixture on the ceiling. All four walls were cushioned with a tan padding, even the interior of the door. The only door in the room had a small peering window and no interior knob. Right above the door was a small black box, a built in camera to monitor the patient. And in the corner was that patient, huddled up with his knees hugged to his chest.

The boy had blond hair and fair skin. He was small, or at least appeared to be in the white scrubs he was wearing. There were spots of old, dried blood on the sleeves and near the ankles, which, along with his wrists, were heavily bandaged. Heero instantly recognized the boy as Quatre.

Had he been a man to cry, he would have at the pathetic sight before him. The gentle, caring, sensitive, compassionate, perfectly sane Quatre that was his friend was not the Quatre that he looked at now.

Heero approached Quatre and tried to touch his shoulder. Like what had happened with the kids on the street, his hand passed through Quatres sleeve. As Heeros hand did so, Quatre readjusted himself to a more comfortable position, relaxing his body a little. When he moved, Heero was able to see his face. The sight Heero had from afar was nothing compared to the appearance of Quatres face.

Quatres once lively face was now free of all emotion. He was not sleeping in that corner, but spacing out. His blue eyes were wide open, pained and lifeless. There were a few scars and recent cuts on his face, one on his cheek that was bleeding slightly.

Heero finally stood up and spoke to Chesara, not moving his gaze from his friend. "What happened to him?"

"You were not there when Quatres father died," she replied, once again in that monotone voice.

"What do mean I wasnt there?" Heero cut her off, "I remember it distinctly!"

"You were not there," she replied sternly, "and so you were not there to fight against him when he used the ZERO system. No one was able to prevent him from attacking Trowa, and because you were not there to save Trowa, he died in space."

She paused for a few seconds, letting it sink in. Then she continued, "The ZERO system drove him crazy, but Trowas death brought him far too harshly back to reality. He became depressed, so depressed that he became violent and a danger to himself and those around him. His sisters tried to help him, but there was nothing they could do."

"No," Heero protested, "I was there, I stopped him and Trowa did not die."

Chesara looked at him, completely serious. "You werent there. Trowa died and Quatre became unmanageable."

"So they sent him here?" Heero asked.

"Yes."

"A danger to himself?" Heero whispered. He finally turned to face Chesara. "Is that why hes bandaged?"

Chesara nodded. "He tried to kill himself by slicing his wrists. One of his sisters found him when he was on the verge of death. His sisters took him to the hospital and when he had recovered well enough, their doctor told them to put him in an institution. That is when they brought him here. He tired to kill himself again once he was put here, but the doctors stopped him. That is how he has some scars on his face and some other parts of his body. He fought with the doctors and got hurt in the process. It took seven orderlies, three doctors and two tranquilizer shots to get him in here."

Suddenly Heero heard a noise at the door, like that of keys. At the noise, Heero sensed Quatre moving behind him. Turning quickly to look, Heero caught a glance of Quatre holding his hands firmly over his ears while at the same time trying to make himself into a smaller ball so that he could hide in the corner better. It was and a few seconds after jingling stopped, the door flew open. Heero heard Quatre flinch as a small team of orderlies entered the room.

As they approached Quatre, one passing right through Heero, he saw Quatre growing frantic. He tried desperately to hide himself in the walls padding but despite how thin he had become, his efforts where in vein.

Heero was forced to watch helplessly as two of the orderlies held a screaming, terrified Quatre down by the arms. The third orderly began preparing a syringe, filling it to the brim with liquid meds. Quatre saw this and struggle as hard as he could. Long years in a padded cell had weakened him, though, and as he strained Heero saw his arms change color under the orderlys strong grip. But Quatre did not seem to notice as he kept up his fight.

After a few seconds of maneuvering himself, Quatre had escaped the hands of one of the orderlies and was moving around so much, the orderly could not properly regain his hold. Turning back to the third orderly, Heero saw two more, heavily built men enter the room and work with the other orderlies to contain the furious Quatre.

They finally did it though, with four and a half orderlies holding him down while the fifth injected the liquid with his free hand. A sudden wave of pain came over the blondes features. He stopped fighting and lay limply on the padded floor. This done, the orderlies backed away and left the room, firmly locking the door behind them.

Quatres lifeless, but still alive body lay in the corner of the room. Heero went up to him and tried to do something . . . anything to get him to snap out of it. It was useless. Quatre slowly began to move, only to return to his fetal position in the corner.

The poor boy had driven himself into death. Whether he died now or not did not matter, all that was in that corner now was a lifeless body. Gazing at Quatre, Heero wondered when the last time was that the social boy had come into comforting contact with another human being.

"Im ready to go now," Heero whispered, "I cant be in here any longer."

* * * *

In another flash of light, Heero was not longer standing over Quatre, but somewhere entirely different from the hospital. He looked around and he was taken aback. He had come from a clean room, smelling of rubbing alcohol and color-coded in white, to a large, dark, gasoline-wreaking warehouse.

"Why are we here?"

Chesara did not get a chance to answer. A door on the far wall abruptly opened and was just as quickly shut once the person was inside. The person was breathing heavily, as if he had just run a very long distance in a rush. Heero watched the person walk over to a corner and sit down. A match was lit and then thrown onto a pile of papers and sticks. The fire grew slowly and did not get very big, but it was enough to light the person into clearer view.

"Who is that?" He asked.

"See for yourself," Chesara told him.

Heero walked over until he was standing over the sitting person. As he was told, Heero crouched down and looked at the figure that was now sitting right next to him. It was Wufei. He was dressed in old clothes that smelled, like the air around him, of car exhaust and chemicals. His hair was now much shorter, not even reaching his ears and his face was no longer as defined. His prominent features no longer held the pride that Heero knew them to hold, and a large scar ran down the entire left side of his face.

"What is he doing here?" Heero asked as he studied his friends condition.

"Hiding," Chesara replied and she walked over to stand beside Heero.

"Hiding?" Heero asked, "From what?"

"OZ, the world, himself."

"Tell me what happened to him."

"By the time he fought sword to sword with Treize, both were jaded men," she told him, "Treize was controlled by the OZ officials and forced to do what they told him to do. When he fought Wufei, there was little compassion left in him, so when he knocked Wufeis sword away, he slashed his face."

Again, she paused to let Heero comprehend what she had just said.

"He is now wanted by OZ," she continued, "Once the war was over, Wufei tried to help things by trying to assassinate the newly elected president. He didnt succeed, instead, he was caught. He escaped before they did anything serious to him, though, and now hes wanted. So he went into hiding."

There was a long silence. To think of Wufei, dishonored and beaten, and wanted, was painful for Heero. He admired Wufei for his courage and strength, now the Chinese warrior was hiding because he could not do anything else. Heero was beginning to see why a guardian angel would be sent down to help him.

"What about the others?" Heero asked in a quick breath and stood up to face Chesara, "Relena? Lady Une? Noin? What about the scientists, and Howard? Mariemeia, and Sally?"

"Relena is dead," Chesara answered him, "Lady Une still works for Treize, Noin is currently unemployed and on the streets. Two of the scientists are still alive and still trying unsuccessfully to fight OZ. Howard still runs the auto parts business, but he is forced to supply OZ troops only, and they dont pay him, so he will be going out of business soon. Mariemeia is dead, that Barton guy killed her when he no longer needed her. And Sally is currently working with Wufei and is also wanted by OZ."

"Oh."

Heero noticed Chesara nod and he turned just in time to see Wufei begin to rock someone that was covered under a bulky tarp. Heero hadnt even noticed that anyone else was there. He watched as the sleeping person woke up and revealed her face. It was Sally, hair also cut and apparently very sick. Wufei handed her a piece of bread and some water, which, from what Heero could tell, wasnt all that clean.

He really affected the lives of all of those people so dramatically? But how could that be? He rarely came into contact with Wufei, but here Wufei was a completely different for him former self. Quatre was in a hospital for the insane, people were dead, and all because he was not there to affect them.

Chesara forced him out of his thoughts. "Are you ready to live now?"

Heero did not answer. There was one more person he had to see. "What about Duo?"

Chesara looked unsure. "I dont know if you want to see him," she said.

Heero turned to her, that expression of determination was back on his face. "Show me."

Taking a deep breath, Chesara hesitantly took them from the warehouse.

* * * *

Another flash of light. They were now standing in the middle of the woods, in front of a run down, somewhat large, dilapidated old shack. Snow was continuing to fall, landing on the oddly hanging roof tiles.

"Is he inside?" Heero asked.

Chesara simply nodded.

Heero ran up to the front door and suddenly stopped. He suddenly was not all that sure whether he actually wanted to see what had happened to Duo. But curiosity overcame his doubt and he continued through the door.

Heero entered the shack and found himself standing in the middle of a small living room. There was only one torn brown chair, a fireplace and a desk. The chair was one that Heero recognized - Duo had had that chair for what seemed like forever. Heero remember when they had moved in together and Duo had refused, no matter how beat up the ugly thing was, to get rid of it. He looked around and saw on the table, there was a laptop.

Swiftly, a man/boy came into the room. He had no shirt on, but one could hardly tell that what was there was his actual chest. All down his stomach and back ran long, twisted thick scars. More were along his back, like a slaves whip marks. Heeros jaw dropped when he recognized the man to be Duo.

This was not the Duo that Heero knew, of course. Duos face was scared on almost every inch of his skin. His arm had cuts on the wrist and large scars running along its length. As he didnt have a shirt on, Heero could see his beautiful chest. But it was not beautiful anymore. Scars laid across his chest in every direction, and among those scars were deep bruises and burn marks. It looked amazingly painful. Looking back up at Duos face, he saw more scars on his neck and noticed the worst of it. Duos long, magnificent braid had been cut. The loose hair that was now too short to contain in a braid did not even reach his shoulders.

"What happened to him?" Heero asked, instinctually knowing that Chesara was behind him in the doorway.

"A lot of things," she said in a morose voice, "He was captured by OZ, remember? You werent there to save him."

"What did the soldiers do to him?" Heero knew that he shouldnt have asked, but he had to know.

Chesara took an incredibly deep breath. "They beat him to the edge of life, and tortured him for information. When he didnt give them what they wanted, they beat him some more."

"Is that all?" Something told Heero there was more.

"Well," Chesara was hesitant to give any more information. Heero turned to look at her. The expression on his face begged her to tell him. "He would not give them what they wanted to know and after a while, the soldiers got bored with beating him. He tried to fight them off, but he was too weak by then."

"So what did they do?"

"They raped him. Its start with one of them, then it grew into group fun for them."

Heero didnt need to hear any more. He understood. Turning away from Chesara, Heero approached Duo tried to touch him, to feel him and comfort them both. He tried to stop Duo from sitting down at the desk, but like before, his hand went straight through Duos beaten body. Quickly bringing his hand back, Heero took a deep breath.

He retreated back into himself. In his mind he screamed at Duo, Dont do this! Duo, I need you! Please! If was just too painful for him to think of Duo being beaten and raped, and then changing from the fun-loving social person that Heero knew him as, to a lonely, scared hermit. A tremor of fright suddenly overtook him. His breathing became labored, and his body suddenly felt almost too heavy for his legs. Turning around, he saw Chesara standing right in front of him. She had a pained, regretful look on her face and the only thing she found that she could do was to lower her head in apology.

After a long silence, Chesara spoke up. "Strange, isnt it? Each mans life touches so many other lives. And when hes gone he leaves such an awful hole doesnt he? You see Heero; you really did have a wonderful life. As did those around you. Wouldnt it be a waste to throw all that away?"

After a long stillness Heero stood up. "I want to leave," he said.

"And go where?" Chesara asked him, "You have never been born, you do not have a home, you do not exist!"

Heeros expression did not change. "I want to leave, I dont want to be here!"

"Why? Is it so hard to believe that things are better with you around?"

Heero lowered his voice and took a step towards Chesara. He had decided. "Take me away from here."

* * * *

In yet another flash of light, Heero was suddenly on the bridge again. He walked forward as he had done earlier that night and grasped the railing. Looking around, he noticed that Chesara was, for once, not beside him.

"Chesara? Chesara!"

No answer came. Where was she? Heero looked into the distance and saw that the town was the same as it was a few minutes ago, old and decrepit. Things were not back to normal.

"Chesara!" Heero automatically looked up to the sky and shouted as loud as he could. "Chesara!! Bring me back!"

Nothing happened. Finally, his weakened legs gave out. He dropped to his knees and put his hands into the snow for support. He stared at the ground and suddenly found himself feeling very weak. He hated it.

Throwing his head back, Heero yelled at the black sky again. "Chesara! Please!" He looked back down at the ground. "Ive changed my mind," he whispered to himself, "I want to live again."

There was a sudden flash of light.