Disclaimer: Gundam wing is not mine.

This is another weird one- several parts to this. Three, maybe four. I'll let you know when we hit the end.

First up: Heero.

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He never answered the phone.

It would ring and ring and ring and ring sometimes for hours at a time.

Sometimes it would be silent.

He liked it that way. If it wasn't ringing it meant no one was trying to hurt him. It meant that he could stay in his apartment and ignore the fact that there was an outside world at all. He could live in his code, programming work that paid for his grocery delivery, his apartment…

His phone.

He often thought about unplugging his phone. Pulling the cord from the wall so he couldn't hear it ring.

He thought about disconnecting the service.

He thought about changing his number.

He thought about a day when the phone would stop ringing. When they would all give up and leave him alone.

A day when he would stop calling.

Some days he was tempted to put an answering machine on the phone, just so he could hear that beloved-hated voice again.

But then he remembered the last words he had heard that voice say and he wasn't tempted anymore.

Sometimes there were knocks at his door. A voice on the other side. Pleading.

He didn't open the door at those moments. He didn't even go near it.

He knew how that voice could sway him.

How long had it been?

Two weeks.

Five days.

Eight hours.

6 minutes.

Forever.

He knew that his security wouldn't hold up against a determined ex-lover, but then he didn't think his ex-lover was very determined.

That voice on the other side of the door sounded more guilty than bereft. That voice didn't need him.

So he didn't need it, or it's owner.

Never again.

A day passed and the phone didn't ring.

Two days.

Three.

He told himself that he would be all right. He was better off this way. No distractions.

Then the emails started.

They arrived to all his aliases.

The same emails over and over and over and over.

He closed down boxes and opened new ones.

The emails still came in.

His hands would shake as he opened the boxes, deleted the emails, tried not to read them.

I miss you.

I'm so sorry.

I want you.

I love you.

All lies.

He never responded, but the emails continued to flood his computers.

Every day.

Every hour.

Every minute more arrived.

In a moment of weakness, nearly drowned by apologies and professions of false love, he replied to just one.

You don't miss me. You don't want me. You don't love me. You want him. Leave me alone.

Almost immediately there were replies in his inboxes. The same reply over and over again.

No. I will never leave you alone. You belong to me. I don't want him.

He tried again.

Leave me alone. I am not yours.

Again, nearly instantaneously the inboxes were flooded again.

Yes you are. Why haven't you moved? Why haven't you blocked my number from your phone? Why are you reading this now? You know why. You are mine.

He shut the computer down.

The phone began to ring.

And ring.

And ring.

And ring.

He got to his feet and paced. He could leave the apartment. He could flee from the sound of the phone.

But he didn't.

He stayed and listened to it ringing.

Why?

Because he belonged to the person on the other end- even though he didn't want to.

Why wouldn't he stop calling? Why wouldn't he give up?

The phone kept ringing. Over and over. Incessant pleading.

Damn it.

He picked up the receiver, grateful that the ringing stopped.

He lifted it to his ear.

"Heero, you have it all wrong."

"How? He wants you."

"And I want you." His ex-lover's voice sounded tired. Exhausted. Desperate. "I need you. Let me back in."

What could he say?

He listened to his ex-lover breathe, heard the faint sound of a rasp, a hitch in breathing…

He knew what those sounds meant. He had heard them many times in the middle of the night. Awoke to soothe and to comfort and to ease that pain.

What should he say?

"I love you."

"Then let me back in Heero. Please."

What else was there to say?

"Come home Duo."

There was a knock on the door.

"I'm here."