Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Gundam Wing. I Simply like to make them dance for my amusement.

Note: Story contains Cursing, Drug Use, Angst, and Bad Grammar. Could get worse in future Chapters.

It was always a surprise when a loved one dies. Even to someone who has lived through war and death everyday for the last year of their life. It was always around but never really touched them personally. So when someone calls at 3 'clock in the morning, claiming that some one you love is dead, it's ok to feel shocked.

But shocked wasn't even close to what he was feeling the moment his kitchen phone began to ring. The wooden frame groaned as he shifted the covers, to roll off the bed. Large blue numbers glowed from his beside table, were his alarm clock sat, declaring it 2:58 am. This time he groaned, as a cold sinking feeling seeped into his gut. He knew from experience that calls at 3 in the morning were almost never good. He silently prayed to a god he didn't believe in, that one of his friends had just given birth, or something.

The soft plush rug under his feet absorbed the sound of his foot steps as he staggered toward the kitchen. His stomach twisted and knotted with every step, until finally he reached his destination and picked up the phone. Some vague part of his sleep ridden mind expected to hear the unattached voice of some face less doctor, who deals with death everyday. Making this call uneventful and routine. When he didn't hear that voice a small part knotted fear loosened in his belly, then tightened again. The speakers voice was rough and husky, most likely a chain smoker. There voice held traits of a European accent. Most likely from Russia, or Germany. They said hello several times, and then cursed, obviously thinking they had done something wrong when dialing the number. The phone beeped a few times, the sound of someone punching in the number again, and then the voice came on again. Luckily he had collected himself enough to answer this time.

"'Ello, is anyone there, 'ello?"

"Yes, I'm here. May I ask who you are calling for?" he was a little shocked at how even his voice was, when he was shaking so horribly. He'd learned at a young age to always keep his face and voice from showing any and all emotion. It had helped during the war as well. If he was captured by an enemy, and questioned, he could keep a straight face through the worst of torture.

"Aye, I'm lookin' for a" A rustle of papers, most likely a small notebook "ah, 'ere it is. I'm lookin' for a Phoenix. Does 'e live there?"

He nearly dropped the phone, in shock. He hadn't been called that name in years. Not since he had left that hell hole. Memories of dark smelly alleyways, with a hooker or drug dealer on every corner filled his mind temporally, and he fought to keep down a wave of nausea. Sweat began to form on his brow and the small of his back, trickling down his spine, making skin itch in it's wake. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying in vain to form words, but it was not use. The man on the other side of the phones gruff voice asked again if he was there. Slowly he shock his head and then realized that if on the phone, the man was most likely no going to see him nod. So he tried again and managed a even "Yes",once more he was a little surprised at how even his voice was. The man on the other line sighed in relief.

"All right then, I was told to call ya' and tell ya' an old friend wants ta' speak with ya'."

"And what old friend would that be?"

It took a moment for the man to answer. He obviously hadn't been expecting that question, so it took a moment for him to gather his wits. After a few moments, and the sound of a lighter being clicked on, most likely to light a cigarette, his husky voice filtered through the line once more. He spoke only one word this time, and in this one word he managed to embed a deep sick feeling in his belly. Unshed tears formed in his eyes, and a lump grew in his throat when he swallowed. It felt as if the whole world were crashing in his kitchen, and he swayed slightly on his feet. That one word, actually that one name, made all the bad memories he had suppressed burst through there invisible lid and fill his mind forming a collidoscope if images, all worse then the last.

"Ling"

DestineysMistake: I wrote this a while back adff, but since they are not working anymore I decidedI would try my luck on this Websit. My next fic will be called 'Harem' a re-make of my other fiction. You know which one I mean.

Chives: please read and review guy!