Title: Dire Consequences 03/??

Fandom: Viewfinder

Pairings: Mik/Fei, AsamixFei, AsamixAkihito

Disclaimer: I do not own Viewfinder or any of its characters. This is a fanfic and I am not making any profit from it.

Rating: R

Part 03

Akihito slept easily at Asami's side. He lay very close, with his head pillowed on the man's strong, willing arm. The blaring lights in the room spoke of the enduring trauma which was only beginning to shake him now, when all of it was almost over. It was always easier to endure the actual disaster than the time of healing which came after, and Feilong knew that better than most, because he had still not recovered from his own tragedies, even though years had passed since the last time when he'd been the victim.

A strange, twisting feeling plagued him as he watched them together and it was directed at them both, because as much as he resented Akihito's touch on Asami's bare skin, he felt the echo of that far superior emotion for Asami's touch on Akihito's flesh. He was jealous, and it shocked him to recognize the sentiment for what it was. Asami's long, slender hand stroked lazily over the boy's spine; subconsciously, slowly, like a man strokes a sleepy cat reclining on his chest, but the longer Feilong looked at him, the more restless Asami seemed to become. His hand stopped moving, the posture of his body shifted subtly and suddenly, with no visible transition, there was nothing indolent, nothing lazy about him. He was tense, alert and very much awake. His sharp eyes scanned the room around him and finally fixed on the bare, floor-to-ceiling window.

A sudden realization gripped Feilong him with an uncommon, unflattering fear. Asami knew that he was being watched, even though there was no reasonable way he could have possibly known that.

His thoughts raced over the evening, looking for mistakes that could have alerted this man, but there were none, unless coming to this godforsaken place was a mistake in itself. Nothing could have given him away, because reasonably, Asami couldn't have known that he had found him. In fact, all logic spoke against him being there and he had only the insanity driving him to thank for the situation he was in.

He had not been thinking.

Driven by his rage, he had come, taking no one with him, because nobody would have approved of it. They would have perceived his obsession as weakness and justly so, because a weakness it was, and a great flaw in his image as a leader.

"Asami," he whispered the name, half cursing and half adoring it, realizing with a hollow, sinking feeling just how much jeopardy he had put himself in by being there. The guards still prowled around the house without a major disturbance within their ranks, and that comforted him. Everything seemed calm, except for a raw, clear warning screaming for attention in his heart. He was in danger and the sense of it easily overwhelmed his reasoning.

Stealthily, Asami stroked under the mess of Akihito's hair and over his neck. He leaned down and blew gently on the exposed skin, making Akihito squirm and wiggle away, leaving him free to get out of bed without disturbing his boy's rest. In passing, Asami threw a light quilt over his lean, brown body, leaving only the top of his unruly head visible.

He approached the window with steady, daunting steps and Feilong's mind raced, knowing that Asami was no ordinary human being. His instincts were more those of a beast than of a man; nurtured and tuned to perfection in conditions that he did not even dare to think about, because the darkness that had spawned Asami made even organized crime that had fathered him seem light and benevolent in comparison.

Asami sensed the hostile presence and even though he could not have known that it was out there for a fact, in his dark, cautious mind the two ultimately amounted to the same. He leaned on to the window and the light hit his back, illuminating him clearly. The whole of his lithe, powerful body was visible. His hair was ruffled and the expression on his hard, handsome face was serious and stern. Unwavering, he stared into the darkness, in Feilong's direction, as if he knew exactly where he was, almost as if he could see him through the night.

Feilong shuddered and waited it out, holding his breath as if he was playing some thrilling game and expecting the outcome. It seemed as if Asami was contemplating the situation, thinking, deciding, and then finally, acting. In a swift, commanding motion, he pulled the curtains closed, shocking Feilong with the abruptness of it all. Strangely, he felt an echo of hurt, as if somebody had slammed a door in his face, but he had no time to indulge in the odd feeling. A sudden disturbance, very much like the one he had looked for before, suddenly came over Asami's men, resembling an urgent buzzing of a poked beehive. One of them, the one obviously in charge, summoned the rest and they gathered. He gave a quick, sharp order, motioning with his hands where each was to go. He tapped something at the side of his head- obviously a microphone- listening for a moment to someone who could only be his invisible boss. He spun around and called out a curt command. All the lights around the house promptly blacked out and every trace of life dissolved in the darkness.

"Damn…" Feilong cursed under his breath, stranded in pitch black all of a sudden. The rain poured and lightning flashed nearby, making the ground rumble under him. A disturbingly clear sense of premonition, a strange thread of superstition, warned him that this could not end well, even though he needed no supernatural signs to tell him that he was in trouble.

Whatever he had come there for ceased to matter. All his unclear reasons for still tracking Asami, even after he'd lost all leverage, suddenly became irrelevant and the need for escape turned into a priority. He was miles from the nearest road, trespassing deep on untamed private property, and he had to go back the same way he had come; on foot. The lack of communications was probably what Asami had picked the place for and Feilong did not doubt that Asami had helicopters to get him to where he wanted to go, but he had no such luxury. He was a thief in the night, a scantily armed one at that, and he had to get away before he was caught.

Feilong pulled out his gun, thinking how he would probably have a chance at only one round of bullets if he was discovered. He had nowhere to hide in the wet, miserable darkness and in his haste, he did not even have the time to properly consider where he was going. It would have been easy to navigate in the light of day, but in the dense, impenetrable night, it was more than difficult. The ground was slippery and treacherous under his feet, tripping him as he ran. He imagined that he was a mess; bleeding freely from a gash on his forehead that he had earned by slipping on the dead leaves of the forest floor and hitting himself hard on a sharp, protruding rock. It hurt to distraction; a highlight among a chorus of other, lesser, yet equally annoying pains.

He heard the dogs barking and his blood ran cold from the sound. He could hide from the men in the darkness, but he could not cheat an animal's sense of smell. He could get away from humans, but he could not outrun a dog. This would be his end and he had only his own foolishness to blame. He cursed himself more than he cursed Asami and struggled against the pain as he fought to find his way out. The unbearable cold and the dreadful wet did no good to his old injuries. They were still too fresh for this kind of exertion and several painful jilts were taking their toll.

Breathing hard, he clutched his side and leaned back against a fat, towering tree, taking some comfort in its firm stability and the rough scrape of the wizened bark against his shivering back. His lungs ached as he looked behind, trying to discern through the deep blackness where his pursuers were. He saw nothing, but the sound of barking was terrifyingly near. He brought his gun to his face, pressing the cold, slippery barrel against his lips. Even in the rain, he could still smell the steel and the gunpowder, and the familiar scent of the weapon soothed him.

The brief rest was too short to do him any real good, but he had no more time for it. Ignoring the pain and the weakness, he moved on. His ears perked as the sounds of dogs surfaced in front of him and in a wave of hopelessness, Feilong knew that Asami's men were cutting off the route to the highway. He would not make it out.

His pursuers were closing in around him, starting from the house and the borders of the property, in the shape of a rapidly shrinking semicircle that would finally close and engulf him within it. They would move inward, taking away his room to manoeuvre, until he was finally caught in the middle, like a cornered animal; like a wet, miserable rat trapped in a place where it was not supposed to be. He had nowhere left to run, even if he'd had the strength to try.

With dark thoughts in mind, he secured his hold on the gun and his eyes narrowed in grim determination. He waited, aiming his weapon at the first crash through the fern and branches, shooting at whatever came at him from the dark first. He hit a large, slobbering animal straight between its vicious, maddened eyes and the beast yelped. Carried by gravity that was boosted by its terrifying leap, it fell, and sliding over the wet, slippery ground, it finally stopped an inch away from Feilong's feet.

Gods, how he hated dogs!

The fear was still thrumming through him when he spun around, listening for other sounds and thinking quickly as they approached. He heard a curt command in Japanese, more barking and then the breaking of twigs under many running feet. The rain poured relentlessly and blinded his already unseeing eyes.

He turned sharply to the rustling closest to him and fired again, gratified to hear an agonized cry; this time that of a man. He heard someone call out and to his disappointment, the injured one answered. The bastard was very much alive. Feilong scanned the dense darkness, straining his eyes for any sign of him so that he could finish the job, but the others were closing in, keeping to the cover of the night. He barely saw their shadows as they ran between the dark pillars of trees, but they were too close to him for comfort. He fired almost aimlessly, trying to catch at least one in motion.

There were too many of them for any hope of victory. His heart pounded and his chest hurt abominably as he prepared to die, realizing with a certain amount of bitterness that he had no reason to regret the loss of his life.

He cocked his gun, waiting for them to fire at him first; one moment, then another, and then another. It did not happen, even though he heard the men shifting nearby under the thick, heavy veil of the falling rain. Why weren't they shooting?

A sudden, horrible thought seized him; Asami had issued an order for them to take him alive.

Feilong knew what he would have done if their situation was reversed. He knew what he had done already and there was no reason to assume that Asami would do any less than him. Feilong had never been a coward, but the thought of Asami's wrath was no small cause for fear.

He had shot the man, raped his lover and humiliated him in whatever way he could. The last thing he could expect from Asami now, was an easy death.

He smiled grimly to himself, realizing that this was his end; barren, cold and unsatisfying, like the most of his life had been. He damned it all, cursing his father, his brother, his treacherous allies and false friends. He cursed Akihito, he cursed Asami, but most of all, as he put the gun to his head, he cursed himself.

The barking of the dogs echoed in his ears, the rain poured and the thunder rumbled. His decision was an easy one; the only one he could still make and retain his pride as a man.

He would not give Asami the satisfaction of taking him alive.

Dizzy with a sense of relief, Feilong closed his eyes. His final thoughts revolved around a morbid, yet satisfying realization of how elating it was to finally have a reason to give up. Laughing bitterly at the parody his entire existence had been, he pressed the gun to his temple and with a steady hand, pulled the trigger.