[fic] Retribution Eighteen
I've wasted enough time not updating, and for that I deserve every brick, so without further ramblings, here it is, an update. Enjoy throwing tomatoes at me
Title: Retribution Eighteen
Rating: PG-13
Warning: violence, OOC (if you agree with FNR), AU (if you agree w/ FNR), but for those who disagree: CWC (Canon? What Canon?)
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yoh, AxA, Feodora (OC), Toh(OC), Alexei (OC), mentions of Yan Tsui.
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All VF characters belong to Yamane Ayano.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish (COMPLETED! OMG!), German, French, and newly added VIETNAMESE! (thank you everyone!) translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
Retribution Eighteen
The blow that landed on the left side of his torso drew a cry Fei Long had been trying to restrain. The bullet wound on the back of his shoulder throbbed like someone had put a knife through it and twisted the blade. Every time he breathed it felt like something was poking at his lungs-- possibly from a broken rib or two if he was lucky. Less than 15 minutes into it and his entire body already felt like a timer counting down to zero; it was approaching too fast for what he had to do. What I have to do, Fei Long thought. He had done nothing so far but offered himself as a sandbag for the prick. Philip Toh was too damn good-- it was like fighting his sifu blindfolded.
“Surprising,” Toh said, panting heavily as he gathered his loose hair and retied his ponytail. “You’re so much better than your pathetic brother. I have to say, this would have been much more fun if you hadn’t been injured to begin with.”
Fei Long would have laughed if his stomach hadn’t hurt so badly. “Why don’t you put a fucking bullet or two in your chest to make it even?” The truth was, he’d have to put twice the bullet holes he had in Toh to make it even close to even. Strangely enough, unlike his past combats, his mind was as clear as a blank slate and his focus had never been sharper. For the first time, he knew what and whom he was fighting for.
“Now that would be considered just,” Toh sneered as he shook loose the tension in his shoulders, “I don’t do just. That’s something pathetic people like you do.” He returned to his defensive stance and beckoned his opponent to continue. “Come on, you’re not done yet, are you?”
“To tell you the truth I can barely stand right now,” Fei Long replied as he straightened and took a deep breath. “But no, I’m not done.”
The back fist that followed missed Toh by an inch. It was returned with a punch that Fei Long was fast enough to dodge and countered with a series of hand strikes and kicks. The speed at which they were executed caused Toh to misplace one of his steps and gave Fei Long an opening for a low spin kick that brought his opponent down on the floor. As he moved to secure Toh by the arm, the man recoiled with a strike that landed Fei Long right where he wanted - down on the floor with Toh’s hand around his throat. At that moment, he came to a realization that even at his best condition, there was no possible way to defeat the man. He’d barged in here in order to save Mikhail, only to be reminded that real life isn’t like kung-fu movies. The hero doesn’t always win. But then again he could hardly call himself one.
“This is it, brother,” Toh said, yanking Fei Long up on his knees. “This is where you get to watch the person you love the most die. This,” he tightened his grip as he forced the man to look at his lover as he bled closer and closer to his death, “is how it feels to know you’re powerless to save him.”
This is how it feels. Toh looked at the Russian, whose consciousness was slowly drifting away; his heart quickened as a memory resurfaced. He could still remember it like yesterday, the paleness of her skin that had turned almost powder white, the way her body swayed as the wind blew in from the window, and how cold she was when he wrapped his arms around her. It began to come back to him, the helplessness that suffocated him when he couldn’t get her down from the ceiling, the way his throat dried up from calling her back from death-- no matter how many times he had tried. She left him, his mother --his one and only protection-- the only person who was supposed to love him more than life itself. In the end she had picked her own way out, without him. The suffering they’d endured wasn’t his fault or hers-it was someone else’s. And he would pay for it-- take with him every beating, every hurt, and every wound ever inflicted upon them to his grave. It was the only way he could think of that would set him free.. The nightmares would be gone, so would the weight in his heart that had suffocated him for decades. This much he was certain.
Fei Long gasped for air as the hand around his throat tightened. There was a layer of insanity in those eyes that looked down at him then, and the reflection he saw upon them was someone else’s. Despite the fact that he’d been the one with victory in his grasp, Toh was trembling as though he was still fighting an enemy he couldn’t defeat. He knew that expression by heart. It was the same one he’d seen in the mirror so many times, the same one he’d also seen on Mikhail when his nightmares had caught up with him. It was madness. The three of them, locked up in a room, fighting each other over enemies from the past that had been dead a long time ago. It has to end, he thought to himself as he looked at Mikhail, who was about to drown in his own blood. All this had to end that day, at any cost.
“N--” Fei Long tried and found his word cut short by the hand around his throat. Fuck. He just needed one chance to say what he needed to say and even that wasn’t possible.
“I would love to hear you beg for mercy,” Toh said with a sneer. “Unfortunately it wouldn’t change a thing.” Fei Long had to feel it, and he had to witness it all. “You can scream and cry until your throat burns and your eyes bleed and no one will listen-- nothing will change. He will die and you will remember this moment for the rest of your life. You will wake up everyday to the way his heartbeat suddenly stops and his breathing ceases.”
Fei Long’s fingers clawed viciously at the hands that were wringing him close to death, kicking his feet as he exerted whatever was left of his strength to break free. One second was what he needed. Just one.
In the split second that Toh’s grip had loosened enough for him to make a sound, Fei Long screamed. “NOW!”
He couldn’t say how long the machine gun had fired into the room. He’d asked Feodora to wait for his signal through the earpiece he was wearing to fire from the helicopter. It wasn’t safe, but time was running out and he needed it fired. Mikhail was lying on the floor and would have the most chance at survival. He would live long after this and see his child grow. Feodora would take care of him. He wouldn’t like this outcome, but one day that beautiful smile would return to his face again. All this would come to an end. His only regret was that he would have loved to say goodbye, would have given everything to say “I love you” for a thousand times. But Mikhail would already know this. He had to. You know me.
The shots rang like a symphony of death that brought back memories from not so long ago. In his mind Fei Long could see Alexei, sitting by the bar, drinking his coffee, possibly smiling at the conversation they had left off that morning. “I want to know how you take your coffee”, he said, “how you like your eggs, what you’re thinking when you bite your lower lip.” It was that simple. He wanted to see. He wanted to learn. He wanted to live.
Fei Long wanted to live too, to stay by Mikhail’s side until they grew old and grey together. He wanted to see that smile again and be wrapped up in that gentle embrace everyday for the rest of their lives. He wanted a second chance at it, to set things right, to fight, to trust. At more than a 1,000 rounds per minute, he could see those moments shatter like the pieces of broken glass that flew around the room. How ironic it was, that one always realizes how much time they had wasted when there’s no more time to be had.
Something warm was resting against his back then. Perhaps it was his blood that was seeping from his wounds. Somehow he couldn’t feel the bullets or the pain they should have inflicted. His body was wrapped around by something soft, like feathers from the wings of an angel; only the wings were black, not white, and it certainly wasn’t an angel.
It was only a whisper, and yet through all the deafening sound of the gunshots, he could hear it.
Get up.
Fei Long looked up and saw him, still as beautiful as the last time they had shared that last morning together. His hair was messed up from the way he liked to ruffle it, and those mischievous green eyes were as bright as always. Alexei was there, his wings stretched out and around him, and smiling.
“He needs you,” he said, his finger pointing to where his brother lay.
Suddenly, everything went white. For a moment Fei Long thought that it was all over, that perhaps his body had already given in. Alexei was gone. The machine gun had also stopped, and the room was as quiet as a morgue. Only the faint, unsteady sound of his heartbeat could still be heard, like percussions in the closing act of an opera. He wasn’t dead-- not yet anyway. It was probably close, for at that moment he saw things in black and white, and everything seemed to move in slow motion, including his own limbs when he’d tried to rise from the floor.
Someone was walking on broken glass somewhere in that room. He looked and saw Toh wobbling towards a gun. The silk of his cheongsam was torn up from the bullets and revealed something black underneath-- a bulletproof vest.
“You have got to be kidding me.” He was beginning to wonder if this had been a horror movie where the psycho killer never dies. The only problem was that the credits didn’t follow soon after. The man was reaching for the gun, and Fei Long didn’t have to guess as to what he was going to do with it.
There was a gun close to him too. Fei Long reached for it, aimed at the target, and pulled the trigger. It didn’t even graze his skin. Dammit! His hands were shaking too hard from his injuries. In his condition, the bullets might end up hitting Mikhail for all he knew.
The shot had gotten Toh’s attention for a second. The man turned to him, and upon seeing that he was alive, the corner of his blood stained lips curled up into a smile that chilled Fei Long to the bone. Toh knew he was watching, and now he was heading towards Mikhail to get the job done.
Fei Long gritted his teeth as he willed himself up. Just one last time and he wouldn’t have to get up anymore. Feodora would soon enter the room and take Mikhail to safety. Get up, he repeated the words Alexei had said just minutes ago. Get up. It was Alexei’s last request and the last thing he could do to set things right. Wherever he was going after death, he wasn’t going to take Mikhail with him.
Toh was standing over Mikhail now. The man turned around again to make sure he was watching and cocked the pistol. His hands were also shaking, but at that range Fei Long knew he wouldn’t miss. He may be able to reach Toh in time, but would his strength be enough to snap Toh’s neck or bring him down?
Something glittered not so far away from Toh, and he ran for it. Move, he told himself as he willed his legs to pick up speed. Move, or he dies.
The shot rang sharp and clear like the one that killed his father, and Fei Long thought his heart had stopped as everything else in him seemed to have suddenly turned into stone. Something heavy fell to his feet, and yet all he could hear was his own scream that never made it past his throat. The katana in his hands felt as light as a feather. The blood that splattered on his face burned like acid on his skin that had turned as cold as ice. He could see nothing, but the way Mikhail lay on the floor-- as still as Alexei was that day, in a pool of blood that was running towards his feet.
***
It was spring and the garden was full of plum blossoms that filled the entire compound with its sweet, delicate fragrance. On a day like this his father would be outside by the stone table, drinking his tea and listening to Ku-Cheng playing in the background. Fei Long stood in front of the door to the courtyard and closed his eyes. He inhaled the scent that was his father’s favorite, bracing himself as he had done a hundred times on the exact same spot since Liu senior had died. No matter how long it had been, every time he pushed that door open, a part of him had wished he would find his father sitting there as before. And for every time that wish didn’t come true, the realization that he was no longer there felt like a punch in the stomach. He should have stopped opening that door. But how does one forget the moments that define one’s life as though it had been written down on paper? How does one let go of something that had engraved itself so permanently into one’s being, like learning how to walk, talk, or swim?
He placed his hands on the wooden door and pushed it opened. The plum trees rustled in the wind, and in it the loose petals danced delicately forming a swirl of soft, pink curtain. At the heart of it, two figures materialized at the stone table - a man in his twenties and a beautiful woman with long, straight hair as black as obsidian. She was playing his father’s favorite tune on the shiny black Ku-Cheng, and the young man’s eyes were fixed upon her as though nothing else in the world existed. He had seen that look before on his father when he played the same instrument, the same song over and over again.
She was what you saw, wasn’t it? Fei Long thought in his mind as he watched the two of them quietly from a distance, and came to a realization that every gesture of affection Liu senior had ever bestowed upon his son had been for her. Not so long ago the knowledge would have caused him pain, but somehow that day, seeing that look on his father’s face had lifted the weight that had been crushing his heart for as long as he could remember. There were times when he would have done anything just to see that smile, but now he knew it was never his to acquire. For too long he’d seen the world with him at the center of it, but the truth was that it was never about him. His father had a story of his own in his book of life he had written, so did he, and so did Asami. He wished he could have gone back in time and lived his life all over again, but it was too late for that now.
This must be heaven, he thought to himself. His father was there with Mei Ling, and perhaps Alexei would be there too, somewhere in that garden.
As though his thoughts could be heard out loud, Liu senior looked up at him, his eyes conveyed something uncompromising and serious as they fixed upon his.
It’s not yours, he said without moving his lips, before averting his gaze to something behind the door.
Fei Long looked over his shoulder, and a tall, masculine figure materialized in the room.
Mikhail…
His eyes flew open to something bright and yellow. He blinked a few times to the light and regained his focus. The room was white and there was something soft against his back. It told him he was no longer in a cell, that he’d escaped, and that everything he remembered wasn’t just a dream. Everything he remembered…
Fei Long shut his eyes as he tried to recall exactly what had happened. His head throbbed as though he was having a major hangover and his mind seemed unable to focus on any particular event. The only thing he could tell was the pain that surged through his limbs like an electrical current every time he’d tried to move. It was impossible to tell how many bullet wounds he’d received or how many bones he’d broken. It wasn’t a problem. The real problem was that he was alive.
Something brushed softly against his hand-he looked and saw the fine black hair by his side. Tao seemed to have fallen asleep while watching over him. As always, the boy had insisted on never leaving his side during times of trouble. He once thought it was due to the boy’s loyalty and the kindness of his heart. But now he could see the real reasons behind Tao’s distress whenever he was in danger. He was the boy’s father figure, the only parent he knew. Losing him before he had a chance to find his own place in the world would destroy the very ground he stood on. After all this time, he never knew how much stress the boy must have gone through every time he’d thrown himself in the line of fire.
“You’re awake,” someone said.
Fei Long looked up and saw Yoh sitting in a wheelchair near him. Another man who insists on being there for me, Fei Long thought. Everything seemed to be normal, but is it?
“You’re alive too.”
“Unfortunately,” Yoh replied with his usual expressionless tone, and yet something in his eyes told Fei Long there was something more to say-- something he didn’t want to say.
“Is he?” Now, tomorrow, or the day after, it didn’t matter when he asked. The answer would not change. He was done running from the truth. He was done wasting time when time was what they all had so little of.
Yoh drew a sharp breath and exhaled. It took only a second-- to Fei Long it felt like a lifetime of torture all crammed up in a heartbeat; like putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger, not knowing if there had been a bullet in the barrel.
“Not quite.”
The answer definitely got on his nerves. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“He’s been shot in the head. They’d taken out the bullet. He’s safe, but he may not wake up,” Yoh told him. “Ever.”
Ever. Leave it to Yoh to deliver bad news so efficiently and without a trace of unnecessary drama. It was exactly what he needed to hear - facts that come as swiftly as they go.
Fei Long took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled. “He’s safe.”
“He’s unconscious.”
“He’s safe,” Fei Long repeated. “That’s all I need to know.” There would be time to grieve, just not yet, not now.
It had been a while since Yoh had seen the fire in those eyes - one that had captured his attention when they were in prison together. Whenever Fei Long had that look on his face, no one and nothing could move him from the path he’d chosen. He would go to the ends of the earth to do what he had set out to do. Deep down he knew everything would be all right. There was strength in him now, perhaps more so than there had ever been. Dead or alive, conscious or not, Mikhail Arbatov still had influence over him.
The fact that Fei Long was also aware of this, and had decided to hold on to it with unshakable determination made Yoh realize something he’d never considered. After all this time he’d seen love as a form of weakness -- a nuisance that gets in the way of what should and needs to be done. Perhaps it takes a much stronger man to risk so much to hold on to so little-- to choose a path so fragile and uncertain, all to the call of one’s heart. He should have taken that leap too, a long time ago. Things may have turned out differently. It could have been him that gave Fei Long the strength he needed. Eight years, and all he had done was shut out his heart.
“Do you want to see him?” Yoh asked.
Fei Long turned away for a moment, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. “No,” he said, “Not yet.” There were things he had to do first, messes he had to clean and straighten before he sees Mikhail, before he had the right to be by his side. Then, I‘ll see you.
“Now tell me everything else.”
***
The room smelled like cigarettes, and for the first time it made Asami feel sick to the stomach. That bitch had been nice enough to throw in so many packs, either to keep him from developing some kind of irreversible madness, or for him to die slowly from lung cancer. Of all the people in the world to ally with, Fei Long had to pick the fucking Arbatovs.
Akihito had better be safe. It was all he could think about. He couldn’t come up with a solution about what he was going to do if Akihito wasn’t safe. His mind wasn’t working straight-- his control wasn’t there. Had they given him drugs or had he allowed himself to fall so deep into something he’d tried so hard to avoid without knowing? Stupid emotions. That must be it; emotions were why he was sitting there like a cripple when he should have already come up with a plan to get out of here, and how he’d make them all pay for this when he does.
The door clicked opened-- it must have been his meal. It didn’t matter if he’d touched the ones before or not. The food just kept coming as though she knew he would not starve himself to death. She was right; he wouldn’t allow himself to die so pathetically. It pissed him off though that a woman could read him so effortlessly. He’d never liked dealing with the Russian, but he liked Feodora even less. She was too dedicated, almost like Fei Long; only she was also immovable on top of everything else when it comes to her husband.
Arbatovs. The whole family seemed to be driven by passion. People who allowed themselves to be so consumed by emotions were foolishly dangerous and unpredictable. Keeping work and play separated was his number one rule, and it should damn well have been everyone else’s that had anything to do with the mafia world. No matter how he looked at it, Akihito should have never been brought into this.
“I never thought in a million years I’d see you like this,” a familiar voice sounded from the door.
Asami looked up and saw the last man he was expecting to see. Fei Long appeared by the entrance in a robe that was tied loosely at the waist, showing the bloodstained bandages that had been wrapped around his chest. From the way the man walked, Asami could tell the injuries were serious and numerous.
“You survived.” It was becoming more and more ironic. After all this time, Fei Long had managed to survive everything anyone had thrown at him, despite every act of stupidity and carelessness that he’d done along the way.
“I’m not that easy to kill,” Fei Long said smilingly, dragging a chair along before taking a seat in front of Asami, who was chained so helplessly to the wall. “You, above all, should know that better than anyone.”
“Cut the crap, Fei Long. Where’s Akihito?” At that point, his patience was running thin.
“Don’t worry about Akihito. He’s a friend and I will make sure he’s safe from harm,” Fei Long replied calmly as he looked at the rare picture before him. Despite that superior mask he still wore, the great Asami Ryuichi was a wreck. With his disheveled hair and worn out eyes that couldn’t hide the hours he’d been awake, even while they still burn so vividly, he seemed like a cornered animal on the brink of going mad. What the hell did they do to him? Fei Long wondered.
“Safe?” Asami repeated with an edge to his tone. “She shot at him twice, in cold blood, and you want to tell me that he’s safe.” For all he knew, Akihito could be missing body parts or being beaten half to death by now. The idea alone made his blood boil in ways he could barely contain, and he could always control himself in any situation.
Fei Long sighed as he answered those accusing eyes with sincerity. “I want you to know this was never my intention. I wouldn’t have brought you or Akihito into this and I’m sorry that you were.” They were not supposed to be involved, especially not to this extent. He thought he’d ended the feud with Asami. But now after having heard what happened while he was captured, ending this particular feud would not be easy.
“You all have what you want. Now let him go.” Fei Long had been freed. He’d signed himself up as a witness to get Yan Tsui out of the way. That should be the end of it for Akihito, even though it was by far not for him.
“Go where?” Fei Long asked. “You know as well as I do he would never leave here without you.” Letting Akihito go wasn’t much of a problem; but without Asami, Fei Long could easily imagine the complications that would follow. Akihito would never just walk away. After all, the boy had come all the way here to save him who was just a friend. For Asami, there was no doubt how far Akihito would go. The question was, how far would Asami go for Akihito?
“And you can’t let me go either, can you?” Asami said with a touch of sarcasm in his tone. He wasn’t born yesterday. It was Arbatov’s territory and as such it was their call. From the way Feodora Arbatova ran the household, there was no way she would let him walk out alive and become a threat. Not to mention that Mikhail would have loved nothing more than to see him die. In their shoes, Asami would do the same.
Fei Long paused for a moment before he continued. What he was about to say wouldn’t be easy for the man to swallow. “It depends.”
Asami raised a brow at the possibility he had not anticipated. “On what?”
“On what you choose to do after hearing my proposal.”
“You got her to negotiate?” He knew Fei Long would have tried to save him, but that Feodora was willing to listen was indeed a surprise. The woman had balls possibly bigger than her husband’s. He couldn’t imagine her taking that chance over Fei Long’s pleading, or anyone’s for that matter.
“It doesn’t mean you’ll like what I have to say.” Feodora would not have negotiated over this, not unless it’s something that may benefit her more.
He reached for something in his pocket and held it for the other man to see. It was a small metal tube the size of a large pen, with a push button on one end and a small hole on the other. “This injector contains a vial of precisely 2 micrograms of poison dart frog toxin, enough to kill a grown man in less than five minutes. It’s designed to be injected under the skin, meaning you’ll likely be dead before you can finish calling your doctor. The vial is remote activated and equipped with built-in sensor, so we’ll also know if you try to remove it.”
“You were right about one thing,” Asami sneered half-heartedly. “I don’t like it.”
“That was sugar coated,” Fei Long said. “It’s activated by a satellite signal and Feodora holds the remote.”
It was indeed a problem. Based on what he’d seen, the woman could easily press the button during her manicure, and the only thing she’d worry about would be messing up her nail polish. If it had been Fei Long, he could have hoped for some hesitation.
“I can let you and Akihito go, right here, right now if you inject this into your arm and agree that this is where it ends; that you won’t seek revenge on me or my family. And by that I mean Liu and Arbatov.”
So they have officially allied, Asami thought. That would make them the most powerful figures in Asia’s underworld. There was certainly no shortage of bad news today.
“You know this means you and Arbatov will have complete control over me for as long as I live.” The idea was too absurd for him to even consider.
“I don’t intend to use this leverage against you unless you decide to become a threat to my family,” Fei Long assured him. “But I can’t answer for Feodora, Vladimir, or Mikhail.”
“And you really think that I would subject myself to this just to survive?”
Fei Long paused and looked at him in the eyes. “I had hoped that you may subject yourself to this for Akihito.”
Asami stilled for a moment at those words. Akihito. He’d somehow forgotten about him being in the picture. In that aspect it was the best way out for Akihito. They’d both have a chance to live, together, and things could go back to normal. The leverage the Russians would have over him wouldn’t affect his lover-- only Asami and his business. It was either this or be killed in this cell, leaving Akihito unprotected. It sounded like a good deal, but was it a price he was willing to pay for the boy?
“She told me you hesitated,” Fei Long continued. “That it had taken more than one shot at his head to make you agree to testify. I think it’s time you answer the question you should’ve a long time ago. What is he to you? What are you willing to sacrifice to keep him away from the line of fire?”
“The line of fire?” Those words irritated him to no end. It wasn’t a question of why he’d hesitated-- Akihito wasn’t supposed to be involved in the first place. Without Fei Long, they wouldn’t be here. Akihito would still be at home, living his normal life, and worrying about his normal job. “For your information, I had everything under control until you decided to interfere.”
“Had you?” Fei Long sneered. It was ridiculous how the man still had so much confidence after all this time. “The day I took him, he came to me. It wouldn’t have happened had he been informed of who I am. This wouldn’t have happened had he known what he was walking into.” The way he saw it, Akihito was an outsider who’d stumbled into their world unknowingly when he should have known better. The boy had been kept blindfolded in a room full of grenades, when he should’ve been efficiently warned and trained to avoid them.
“I don’t intend to have him involved with my business.” It wasn’t just dangerous, but it also meant allowing Akihito to become his weakness-- putting everything at risk.
“You don’t intend to,” Fei Long said in irritation. “What do you take him for? A pet you keep tied up by the bed whose sole purpose is to obey and please you? Do you really think that you can keep him on a leash? That he would be content at staying there with whatever you felt like throwing at him? Akihito loves you, and whether or not you like it, he is involved with everything you do, everything that you are and he has every right to. He will die from this, sooner or later, unless you’re prepared to put your life on the line and sacrifice everything to protect him!”
Asami had to admit there was truth in those words. It had become harder to control Akihito, and the more he’d tried to keep him out of it, the more Akihito had tried to venture deeper into his world. For a time he’d thought everything was going fine, but was it discontent he saw the boy’s eyes when he’d brushed those questions aside? Had he been blind to all this before? For how long?
To keep Akihito safe, Asami thought he’d only needed to keep him out of it, but whether or not he could had never crossed his mind. What if Fei Long was right? What if he couldn’t? To continue being with Akihito would mean putting him in danger with or without Fei Long in the picture. There were only two things to do-- let Akihito go, or drag him along into battle and hope that he would survive.
“What if I refuse?” Fei Long would try to keep him alive for as long as he could, and perhaps an opportunity may present itself.
“In hope that you may escape?"
Asami didn’t answer. He had to admit the Chinese man had gotten much smarter than he'd remembered.
"Perhaps that is also a possibility," Fei Long replied calmly. "If that is the path you choose, and if by extraordinary circumstances you do escape, I hope you remember the risk you’re taking and what you stand to lose." He stepped forward and placed the injector on the floor. It was close enough for Asami to reach while keeping himself at a safe distance.
“You two will be on the run for as long as you live, and should you also decide to seek vengeance,” Fei Long continued, his eyes suddenly narrowed and seemed to seep with venom, “know that I am prepared to hunt you down for the rest of my life if you try. And this time it won't be for love or longing, I assure you.”
It was between injecting himself with a deadly poison or being hunted down by Fei Long for what could be another three decades. Asami couldn’t decide which was the worst-case scenario. With Arbatovs thrown into the picture, he was beginning to think it was the latter. The way Fei Long looked at him that day also gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. For the first time, he couldn’t see a boy he could move at will. In front of him he saw a potential threat-- a man who wouldn’t hesitate to strike him down should the situation called for it. Instead of avenging himself, Phillip Toh had created a monster.
“Walk away, Asami,” he said firmly. “I’m giving you a choice you’d never given me - a chance to move on, to live, with him. Take it and walk away.”
A choice I’d never given him, Asami thought. Perhaps Fei Long was right. Maybe things would have turned out differently had he not ended things the way he did and given Fei Long cause to seek closure. Now that he was being confronted with the same dilemma, could he end it here as he’d often wished Fei Long would have? Could he walk away and try to deal with what he had left, or does he throw it away for pride and dignity, especially when Akihito’s life was also on the line?
“I will leave this here for you to decide. When it’s done both of you will be released.” Fei Long said as he headed for the door. “Grow a heart, Asami. Treasure the way it beats for Akihito. Be the man who deserves him before it’s too late.”
The door was shut with a soft, yet deliberate bang-- like a book that was closed after its final chapter was read. Fei Long felt the weight in his chest lifted, and his mind was as clear as a blank slate. Eight years of unfinished business had finally come to an end, at least on his part. Both he and Asami had paid heir dues for what they had done to each other. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to go down that path again.
“Can you really trust him to not seek revenge one way or another?”
Fei Long looked up at Yoh, who had been guarding the door without his knowledge. “Can I trust you to shoot if he does?”
“You should already know the answer to that question.”
“Good.” Fei Long smiled. “Then there should be no problem, shouldn’t there?”
“There shouldn’t,” another voice sounded from the door of the adjacent cell where Akihito had been held. Feodora stepped softly into the hallway with an injector in her hand.
“You didn’t.”
“Why shoot one bird when you can shoot two?” She replied as she placed the injector back in her pocket. “It’s not like I can’t afford it.”
Arbatovs, Fei Long wanted to say. It would have been better had their only reason been money. He knew exactly why she had shot Akihito with it. Leverage and back up. “You really take no chances, do you?”
“I can’t afford to.”
Fei Long looked into her eyes and then at the small pregnancy bump that was starting to show. “Neither can I,” he told her. It wasn’t just Mikhail he had to protect, but the child in her womb as well. He didn’t like the idea of putting Akihito in more danger, but she should know he had as much intention to protect this family as she does.
“What about Yan Tsui?” Yoh asked. “Don’t we need him to testify?”
“It’s a waste of time,” Fei Long said. “Yan has too many connections. He’ll find a way out, one way or another. I have arranged for him to leave Hong Kong. We’ll keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t return.” It was his last gesture of kindness towards his brother. After all, Fei Long had taken from him what was supposed to be his birthright, and no matter what the man had done, Yan Tsui remained the only brother he had known and his father’s blood. “Or I could shoot him with that vial of poison if you have spares.” He turned to Feodora with a playful grin.
“Really, why would you want to let him go?” She asked. “You could have kept him much longer, and made use of him the way he had used you.” She had to know Fei Long’s true intention, to be sure that it would not come back to hurt Mikhail again. “Why are you in such a hurry to end it now, after all this time?” Since he’d been out of the hospital, Fei Long had done nothing but run around to straighten everything-- from taking back Baishe to the issue of his brother, and now Asami Ryuichi. It was as though he needed to get it done, so he could do something or be somewhere.
Fei Long looked at her, and for a moment, she could feel the longing in those eyes that felt heavy against her heart.
“Because when he wakes up, I want to be able to assure him that nothing and no one will come between us ever again.” He wouldn’t allow it-- not this time. This time he was ready to do it all, to give it all for them the same way Mikhail had always done.
***
It had been two weeks since they had raided the penthouse suite, and since then Fei Long had yet to find the strength to enter the room where they’d admitted Mikhail. Perhaps it had been denial that had kept him away, or maybe he had been too afraid to face the truth. It was one thing to tell himself that he would hold on to hope no matter how long it may be, and another to face the reality that some dreams were never meant to come true, no matter how hard you try. Still, he had to face it sooner or later. This was where his heart would get put to the test, and he must not fail Mikhail.
He pushed open the door and entered. They had placed him a suite with a separate living room and a bedroom for the relatives. Feodora had two groups of five men, all armed to the teeth, guarding him 24 hours a day from the hospital entrance to the inner door. They nodded to him and moved out of the way without a word spoken. Feodora must have told them to expect him.
On the bed, with an IV tube connected to his arm, Mikhail was lying as still as a corpse, only the way his chest moved signified that he was still living. Fei Long took a deep breath and held it as he stepped closer, his feet felt as heavy as walking on quicksand. He’d felt it before-- at the morgue, when it was Alexei who had been placed in the middle of the room. This time it was Mikhail, and even though he was alive, it had taken all the strength he had just to pick up his feet. He may not wake up, they all said. What if they were right? What if he doesn’t? What if this image of Mikhail that he was about to witness turns out to be the last one he would ever see for the rest of his life?
Standing over the bed, Fei Long watched with a heavy heart the man who had become the very center of his life. His head was wrapped in bandages, and only parts of his curls were showing. The bruises Toh had inflicted upon him was beginning to fade. He looked so normal, as though he was just sleeping and would wake up at any minute.
“Mikhail.” Fei Long reached out to push away the curls that hung loosely around the handsome face. The tips of his fingers grazed the pale skin and it felt warm to the touch, only Mikhail did not stir. “Misha.”
Good morning sweetheart, he would have answered. Those blue eyes would sparkle like sapphires when they look at him, and soon he would be wrapped so tightly in those strong arms.
“Where are you?” He whispered, willing for those eyes to open, praying that his voice would be heard, wherever Mikahil was.
Something bumped on his foot as he moved. He looked down and saw a small black wallet on the floor. It must have been placed near the bed, along with his cigarettes, lighter and other personal belongings he had on him that day. Someone must have accidentally knocked it over. Picking it up, he could imagine Feodora sitting there, touching his things as she waited for him to wake up. It must have helped. He would have done the same.
He dragged a chair over and seated himself by the bed, rubbing his thumb on the worn out leather. It was funny how one remembered little things without knowing, like the way he held his wallet, where he kept it, or how he liked to shove his notes in it without first straightening them out. Fei Long could still remember wanting to tidy it up every time he saw it, but he’d always feared it would be too personal. Now he realized how wrong he had been. You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?
Opening it up, Fei Long took out the notes and rearranged them neatly. When Mikhail wakes up, maybe Mikhail would notice it, and his face would light up like a boy who’d just unwrapped his present. That’d always happened when Fei Long did something surprising, like remembering how Mikhail took his coffee, or noticed breadcrumbs on his cheek. -
A neatly folded piece of old paper peeked out from one of the pockets he was going through. Out of curiosity, Fei Long pulled it out and flipped it open. It was a check, written, signed, and torn in two. His name was on it, but the amount had been left empty.
I'd pay a million bucks to see that smile again. Wasn’t that what Mikhail had said that night? One piece of paper was where it had all began -- what had gotten him into Mikhail’s penthouse and opened a door neither of them could close. It was their first date, the very first time they’d kissed before he tore that check in two.
“You’ve always kept it here, haven’t you?” He said, his voice broken from the lump that swelled in the back of his throat. “You’ve kept us, from the very beginning to this day.”
How could he not know it? Through everything that had torn them apart, Mikhail had never intended to let go. The paper looked worn and crinkled, as though it had been taken out and handled a dozen times and placed back in its place. He must have tried and decided to keep it-- to keep them, over and over, every time.
"Wake up," he said as he closed his hand around Mikhail's. "Wake up and ask me again to come with you,” he told him. Where were they? Skiing in Switzerland, diving in the Maldives, or counting stars in the desert? “We'll go to all those places you've wanted us to go. I'll stay as long as you want me to stay, longer if you'll let me.” This time he wouldn’t say no. This time they would see it together, laugh together, and risk it all together. “Hold my hand again and I'll never let go. Kiss me again and this time I won't pull away. Give me another chance to do everything I should have done for you, with you." He squeezed the large hand tighter but it didn't answer to his touch as before. Wake up, and I will tell you a thousand times, those words you’ve been wanting to hear.
Some time later he must have fallen asleep by the side of the bed. In his dreams Mikhail was there as he always had been - by his side, so warm, and so alive. Memory after memory replayed in his mind like scenes from his favorite movies. He didn’t know if it would make it harder, but he’d wanted to see them, to be reminded of them, to keep them where nothing could erase. I’ve kept us too. Right here, where I could see you, always.
***
“Fei Long,” someone called him, softly at first and then louder, “Fei Long.”
He opened his eyes and saw Yoh standing next to him, by the bed. He turned to Mikhail and sighed. Still no sign of consciousness. “What time is it?”
“It’s eight in the morning,” Yoh replied, holding up some clothes on a hanger. “You have a meeting at ten. I’ve brought your suit.”
Work. He sighed again. Life goes on even when you don’t want it to. “I need a successor.”
Yoh knotted his brow a little. “You’re not even 30 and you already want to retire?”
“I have enough money to live for 500 years. Give me one reason why I should want to work.” He should be out there, living whatever’s left of his life, with Mikhail. What is the point of being on top of the world when there is no one there to share it with?
“Because when he wakes up, your savings will last precisely 8.6 years, based on the amount you’d spent on your last vacation with him,” Yoh told him, as though he was holding a calculator and showing him figures on his bank account. “Unless you’re planning on freeloading on Arbatov’s assets, you can’t afford to retire. Based on the amount he and his wife spend, that won’t last long either.”
“When he wakes up.” Fei Long repeated the words that suddenly gave him the strength he needed. Coming from someone like Yoh, it did feel like a-matter-of-fact.
“When he wakes up.” Yoh nodded and gave him the suit.
“Thank you.” It was true. Mikhail wouldn’t have wanted him to give it all up just to sit here and wait.
Something dropped on the floor as Fei Long was heading to the bathroom. Turning around, he saw the wallet lying under the bed. Yoh was standing right behind him. He remembered placing it where he slept, right next to Mikhail.
How…?
In a heartbeat, Fei Long rushed back to the bedside and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently and then firmer. “Mikhail.”
Mikhail’s eyes moved under the lids that were still closed, and Fei Long held his breath as he waited. They opened, blinked a few times then focused on Fei Long.
“Hi.” It was all he could say given the tears he’d tried to hold back. He wasn’t going to have Mikhail wake up to see him in tears.
It was like the first time they’d met. Those eyes looked at him with so much esteem, as if he was the only thing in the world worth looking at. His lips moved and Fei Long thought it had all been his own imagination.
“Who are you?”
***
A/NI: I don't usually have background music for my chapters, but this was what I felt appropriate and was listening to when I wrote the second half. I just feel like it should be shared.
A/NII: For those who have missed my previous announcement, go read the next chapter marks the end of this arc and this trilogy. It is finished and will be posted on the 7th anniversary of this fic which is May 14th. Please be there for on last round of group hug! *_* As always, every comment helps get me going which will bring you more writing of this OTP
Title: Retribution Eighteen
Rating: PG-13
Warning: violence, OOC (if you agree with FNR), AU (if you agree w/ FNR), but for those who disagree: CWC (Canon? What Canon?)
Characters: Fei Long, Mikhail, Yoh, AxA, Feodora (OC), Toh(OC), Alexei (OC), mentions of Yan Tsui.
Spoiler: Spoiler for NT arc
Disclaimer: All VF characters belong to Yamane Ayano.
Beta: angel0399
Previous Chapters: For new readers, 'Retribution' is the third arc of a Mik x Fei trilogy that I've suffered my readers with since 2007. In order to make sense of it I'm afraid you will need to read 'Cruel Intentions' and its sequel 'Revelation' before you begin 'Retribution.' All the links are organized on the side bar of my lj kajornwan along with the trilogy's one-shot fillers. Russian, Chinese, Polish, Spanish (COMPLETED! OMG!), German, French, and newly added VIETNAMESE! (thank you everyone!) translations by readers are also found here. To make life even easier, a dear reader gryffin-draco has gone through the trouble of putting these in PDF files for download. Cruel Intentions and Revelation. Thank you so much sweetie.
Retribution Eighteen
The blow that landed on the left side of his torso drew a cry Fei Long had been trying to restrain. The bullet wound on the back of his shoulder throbbed like someone had put a knife through it and twisted the blade. Every time he breathed it felt like something was poking at his lungs-- possibly from a broken rib or two if he was lucky. Less than 15 minutes into it and his entire body already felt like a timer counting down to zero; it was approaching too fast for what he had to do. What I have to do, Fei Long thought. He had done nothing so far but offered himself as a sandbag for the prick. Philip Toh was too damn good-- it was like fighting his sifu blindfolded.
“Surprising,” Toh said, panting heavily as he gathered his loose hair and retied his ponytail. “You’re so much better than your pathetic brother. I have to say, this would have been much more fun if you hadn’t been injured to begin with.”
Fei Long would have laughed if his stomach hadn’t hurt so badly. “Why don’t you put a fucking bullet or two in your chest to make it even?” The truth was, he’d have to put twice the bullet holes he had in Toh to make it even close to even. Strangely enough, unlike his past combats, his mind was as clear as a blank slate and his focus had never been sharper. For the first time, he knew what and whom he was fighting for.
“Now that would be considered just,” Toh sneered as he shook loose the tension in his shoulders, “I don’t do just. That’s something pathetic people like you do.” He returned to his defensive stance and beckoned his opponent to continue. “Come on, you’re not done yet, are you?”
“To tell you the truth I can barely stand right now,” Fei Long replied as he straightened and took a deep breath. “But no, I’m not done.”
The back fist that followed missed Toh by an inch. It was returned with a punch that Fei Long was fast enough to dodge and countered with a series of hand strikes and kicks. The speed at which they were executed caused Toh to misplace one of his steps and gave Fei Long an opening for a low spin kick that brought his opponent down on the floor. As he moved to secure Toh by the arm, the man recoiled with a strike that landed Fei Long right where he wanted - down on the floor with Toh’s hand around his throat. At that moment, he came to a realization that even at his best condition, there was no possible way to defeat the man. He’d barged in here in order to save Mikhail, only to be reminded that real life isn’t like kung-fu movies. The hero doesn’t always win. But then again he could hardly call himself one.
“This is it, brother,” Toh said, yanking Fei Long up on his knees. “This is where you get to watch the person you love the most die. This,” he tightened his grip as he forced the man to look at his lover as he bled closer and closer to his death, “is how it feels to know you’re powerless to save him.”
This is how it feels. Toh looked at the Russian, whose consciousness was slowly drifting away; his heart quickened as a memory resurfaced. He could still remember it like yesterday, the paleness of her skin that had turned almost powder white, the way her body swayed as the wind blew in from the window, and how cold she was when he wrapped his arms around her. It began to come back to him, the helplessness that suffocated him when he couldn’t get her down from the ceiling, the way his throat dried up from calling her back from death-- no matter how many times he had tried. She left him, his mother --his one and only protection-- the only person who was supposed to love him more than life itself. In the end she had picked her own way out, without him. The suffering they’d endured wasn’t his fault or hers-it was someone else’s. And he would pay for it-- take with him every beating, every hurt, and every wound ever inflicted upon them to his grave. It was the only way he could think of that would set him free.. The nightmares would be gone, so would the weight in his heart that had suffocated him for decades. This much he was certain.
Fei Long gasped for air as the hand around his throat tightened. There was a layer of insanity in those eyes that looked down at him then, and the reflection he saw upon them was someone else’s. Despite the fact that he’d been the one with victory in his grasp, Toh was trembling as though he was still fighting an enemy he couldn’t defeat. He knew that expression by heart. It was the same one he’d seen in the mirror so many times, the same one he’d also seen on Mikhail when his nightmares had caught up with him. It was madness. The three of them, locked up in a room, fighting each other over enemies from the past that had been dead a long time ago. It has to end, he thought to himself as he looked at Mikhail, who was about to drown in his own blood. All this had to end that day, at any cost.
“N--” Fei Long tried and found his word cut short by the hand around his throat. Fuck. He just needed one chance to say what he needed to say and even that wasn’t possible.
“I would love to hear you beg for mercy,” Toh said with a sneer. “Unfortunately it wouldn’t change a thing.” Fei Long had to feel it, and he had to witness it all. “You can scream and cry until your throat burns and your eyes bleed and no one will listen-- nothing will change. He will die and you will remember this moment for the rest of your life. You will wake up everyday to the way his heartbeat suddenly stops and his breathing ceases.”
Fei Long’s fingers clawed viciously at the hands that were wringing him close to death, kicking his feet as he exerted whatever was left of his strength to break free. One second was what he needed. Just one.
In the split second that Toh’s grip had loosened enough for him to make a sound, Fei Long screamed. “NOW!”
He couldn’t say how long the machine gun had fired into the room. He’d asked Feodora to wait for his signal through the earpiece he was wearing to fire from the helicopter. It wasn’t safe, but time was running out and he needed it fired. Mikhail was lying on the floor and would have the most chance at survival. He would live long after this and see his child grow. Feodora would take care of him. He wouldn’t like this outcome, but one day that beautiful smile would return to his face again. All this would come to an end. His only regret was that he would have loved to say goodbye, would have given everything to say “I love you” for a thousand times. But Mikhail would already know this. He had to. You know me.
The shots rang like a symphony of death that brought back memories from not so long ago. In his mind Fei Long could see Alexei, sitting by the bar, drinking his coffee, possibly smiling at the conversation they had left off that morning. “I want to know how you take your coffee”, he said, “how you like your eggs, what you’re thinking when you bite your lower lip.” It was that simple. He wanted to see. He wanted to learn. He wanted to live.
Fei Long wanted to live too, to stay by Mikhail’s side until they grew old and grey together. He wanted to see that smile again and be wrapped up in that gentle embrace everyday for the rest of their lives. He wanted a second chance at it, to set things right, to fight, to trust. At more than a 1,000 rounds per minute, he could see those moments shatter like the pieces of broken glass that flew around the room. How ironic it was, that one always realizes how much time they had wasted when there’s no more time to be had.
Something warm was resting against his back then. Perhaps it was his blood that was seeping from his wounds. Somehow he couldn’t feel the bullets or the pain they should have inflicted. His body was wrapped around by something soft, like feathers from the wings of an angel; only the wings were black, not white, and it certainly wasn’t an angel.
It was only a whisper, and yet through all the deafening sound of the gunshots, he could hear it.
Get up.
Fei Long looked up and saw him, still as beautiful as the last time they had shared that last morning together. His hair was messed up from the way he liked to ruffle it, and those mischievous green eyes were as bright as always. Alexei was there, his wings stretched out and around him, and smiling.
“He needs you,” he said, his finger pointing to where his brother lay.
Suddenly, everything went white. For a moment Fei Long thought that it was all over, that perhaps his body had already given in. Alexei was gone. The machine gun had also stopped, and the room was as quiet as a morgue. Only the faint, unsteady sound of his heartbeat could still be heard, like percussions in the closing act of an opera. He wasn’t dead-- not yet anyway. It was probably close, for at that moment he saw things in black and white, and everything seemed to move in slow motion, including his own limbs when he’d tried to rise from the floor.
Someone was walking on broken glass somewhere in that room. He looked and saw Toh wobbling towards a gun. The silk of his cheongsam was torn up from the bullets and revealed something black underneath-- a bulletproof vest.
“You have got to be kidding me.” He was beginning to wonder if this had been a horror movie where the psycho killer never dies. The only problem was that the credits didn’t follow soon after. The man was reaching for the gun, and Fei Long didn’t have to guess as to what he was going to do with it.
There was a gun close to him too. Fei Long reached for it, aimed at the target, and pulled the trigger. It didn’t even graze his skin. Dammit! His hands were shaking too hard from his injuries. In his condition, the bullets might end up hitting Mikhail for all he knew.
The shot had gotten Toh’s attention for a second. The man turned to him, and upon seeing that he was alive, the corner of his blood stained lips curled up into a smile that chilled Fei Long to the bone. Toh knew he was watching, and now he was heading towards Mikhail to get the job done.
Fei Long gritted his teeth as he willed himself up. Just one last time and he wouldn’t have to get up anymore. Feodora would soon enter the room and take Mikhail to safety. Get up, he repeated the words Alexei had said just minutes ago. Get up. It was Alexei’s last request and the last thing he could do to set things right. Wherever he was going after death, he wasn’t going to take Mikhail with him.
Toh was standing over Mikhail now. The man turned around again to make sure he was watching and cocked the pistol. His hands were also shaking, but at that range Fei Long knew he wouldn’t miss. He may be able to reach Toh in time, but would his strength be enough to snap Toh’s neck or bring him down?
Something glittered not so far away from Toh, and he ran for it. Move, he told himself as he willed his legs to pick up speed. Move, or he dies.
The shot rang sharp and clear like the one that killed his father, and Fei Long thought his heart had stopped as everything else in him seemed to have suddenly turned into stone. Something heavy fell to his feet, and yet all he could hear was his own scream that never made it past his throat. The katana in his hands felt as light as a feather. The blood that splattered on his face burned like acid on his skin that had turned as cold as ice. He could see nothing, but the way Mikhail lay on the floor-- as still as Alexei was that day, in a pool of blood that was running towards his feet.
***
It was spring and the garden was full of plum blossoms that filled the entire compound with its sweet, delicate fragrance. On a day like this his father would be outside by the stone table, drinking his tea and listening to Ku-Cheng playing in the background. Fei Long stood in front of the door to the courtyard and closed his eyes. He inhaled the scent that was his father’s favorite, bracing himself as he had done a hundred times on the exact same spot since Liu senior had died. No matter how long it had been, every time he pushed that door open, a part of him had wished he would find his father sitting there as before. And for every time that wish didn’t come true, the realization that he was no longer there felt like a punch in the stomach. He should have stopped opening that door. But how does one forget the moments that define one’s life as though it had been written down on paper? How does one let go of something that had engraved itself so permanently into one’s being, like learning how to walk, talk, or swim?
He placed his hands on the wooden door and pushed it opened. The plum trees rustled in the wind, and in it the loose petals danced delicately forming a swirl of soft, pink curtain. At the heart of it, two figures materialized at the stone table - a man in his twenties and a beautiful woman with long, straight hair as black as obsidian. She was playing his father’s favorite tune on the shiny black Ku-Cheng, and the young man’s eyes were fixed upon her as though nothing else in the world existed. He had seen that look before on his father when he played the same instrument, the same song over and over again.
She was what you saw, wasn’t it? Fei Long thought in his mind as he watched the two of them quietly from a distance, and came to a realization that every gesture of affection Liu senior had ever bestowed upon his son had been for her. Not so long ago the knowledge would have caused him pain, but somehow that day, seeing that look on his father’s face had lifted the weight that had been crushing his heart for as long as he could remember. There were times when he would have done anything just to see that smile, but now he knew it was never his to acquire. For too long he’d seen the world with him at the center of it, but the truth was that it was never about him. His father had a story of his own in his book of life he had written, so did he, and so did Asami. He wished he could have gone back in time and lived his life all over again, but it was too late for that now.
This must be heaven, he thought to himself. His father was there with Mei Ling, and perhaps Alexei would be there too, somewhere in that garden.
As though his thoughts could be heard out loud, Liu senior looked up at him, his eyes conveyed something uncompromising and serious as they fixed upon his.
It’s not yours, he said without moving his lips, before averting his gaze to something behind the door.
Fei Long looked over his shoulder, and a tall, masculine figure materialized in the room.
Mikhail…
His eyes flew open to something bright and yellow. He blinked a few times to the light and regained his focus. The room was white and there was something soft against his back. It told him he was no longer in a cell, that he’d escaped, and that everything he remembered wasn’t just a dream. Everything he remembered…
Fei Long shut his eyes as he tried to recall exactly what had happened. His head throbbed as though he was having a major hangover and his mind seemed unable to focus on any particular event. The only thing he could tell was the pain that surged through his limbs like an electrical current every time he’d tried to move. It was impossible to tell how many bullet wounds he’d received or how many bones he’d broken. It wasn’t a problem. The real problem was that he was alive.
Something brushed softly against his hand-he looked and saw the fine black hair by his side. Tao seemed to have fallen asleep while watching over him. As always, the boy had insisted on never leaving his side during times of trouble. He once thought it was due to the boy’s loyalty and the kindness of his heart. But now he could see the real reasons behind Tao’s distress whenever he was in danger. He was the boy’s father figure, the only parent he knew. Losing him before he had a chance to find his own place in the world would destroy the very ground he stood on. After all this time, he never knew how much stress the boy must have gone through every time he’d thrown himself in the line of fire.
“You’re awake,” someone said.
Fei Long looked up and saw Yoh sitting in a wheelchair near him. Another man who insists on being there for me, Fei Long thought. Everything seemed to be normal, but is it?
“You’re alive too.”
“Unfortunately,” Yoh replied with his usual expressionless tone, and yet something in his eyes told Fei Long there was something more to say-- something he didn’t want to say.
“Is he?” Now, tomorrow, or the day after, it didn’t matter when he asked. The answer would not change. He was done running from the truth. He was done wasting time when time was what they all had so little of.
Yoh drew a sharp breath and exhaled. It took only a second-- to Fei Long it felt like a lifetime of torture all crammed up in a heartbeat; like putting a gun to his head and pulling the trigger, not knowing if there had been a bullet in the barrel.
“Not quite.”
The answer definitely got on his nerves. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“He’s been shot in the head. They’d taken out the bullet. He’s safe, but he may not wake up,” Yoh told him. “Ever.”
Ever. Leave it to Yoh to deliver bad news so efficiently and without a trace of unnecessary drama. It was exactly what he needed to hear - facts that come as swiftly as they go.
Fei Long took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled. “He’s safe.”
“He’s unconscious.”
“He’s safe,” Fei Long repeated. “That’s all I need to know.” There would be time to grieve, just not yet, not now.
It had been a while since Yoh had seen the fire in those eyes - one that had captured his attention when they were in prison together. Whenever Fei Long had that look on his face, no one and nothing could move him from the path he’d chosen. He would go to the ends of the earth to do what he had set out to do. Deep down he knew everything would be all right. There was strength in him now, perhaps more so than there had ever been. Dead or alive, conscious or not, Mikhail Arbatov still had influence over him.
The fact that Fei Long was also aware of this, and had decided to hold on to it with unshakable determination made Yoh realize something he’d never considered. After all this time he’d seen love as a form of weakness -- a nuisance that gets in the way of what should and needs to be done. Perhaps it takes a much stronger man to risk so much to hold on to so little-- to choose a path so fragile and uncertain, all to the call of one’s heart. He should have taken that leap too, a long time ago. Things may have turned out differently. It could have been him that gave Fei Long the strength he needed. Eight years, and all he had done was shut out his heart.
“Do you want to see him?” Yoh asked.
Fei Long turned away for a moment, his eyes fixed on something in the distance. “No,” he said, “Not yet.” There were things he had to do first, messes he had to clean and straighten before he sees Mikhail, before he had the right to be by his side. Then, I‘ll see you.
“Now tell me everything else.”
***
The room smelled like cigarettes, and for the first time it made Asami feel sick to the stomach. That bitch had been nice enough to throw in so many packs, either to keep him from developing some kind of irreversible madness, or for him to die slowly from lung cancer. Of all the people in the world to ally with, Fei Long had to pick the fucking Arbatovs.
Akihito had better be safe. It was all he could think about. He couldn’t come up with a solution about what he was going to do if Akihito wasn’t safe. His mind wasn’t working straight-- his control wasn’t there. Had they given him drugs or had he allowed himself to fall so deep into something he’d tried so hard to avoid without knowing? Stupid emotions. That must be it; emotions were why he was sitting there like a cripple when he should have already come up with a plan to get out of here, and how he’d make them all pay for this when he does.
The door clicked opened-- it must have been his meal. It didn’t matter if he’d touched the ones before or not. The food just kept coming as though she knew he would not starve himself to death. She was right; he wouldn’t allow himself to die so pathetically. It pissed him off though that a woman could read him so effortlessly. He’d never liked dealing with the Russian, but he liked Feodora even less. She was too dedicated, almost like Fei Long; only she was also immovable on top of everything else when it comes to her husband.
Arbatovs. The whole family seemed to be driven by passion. People who allowed themselves to be so consumed by emotions were foolishly dangerous and unpredictable. Keeping work and play separated was his number one rule, and it should damn well have been everyone else’s that had anything to do with the mafia world. No matter how he looked at it, Akihito should have never been brought into this.
“I never thought in a million years I’d see you like this,” a familiar voice sounded from the door.
Asami looked up and saw the last man he was expecting to see. Fei Long appeared by the entrance in a robe that was tied loosely at the waist, showing the bloodstained bandages that had been wrapped around his chest. From the way the man walked, Asami could tell the injuries were serious and numerous.
“You survived.” It was becoming more and more ironic. After all this time, Fei Long had managed to survive everything anyone had thrown at him, despite every act of stupidity and carelessness that he’d done along the way.
“I’m not that easy to kill,” Fei Long said smilingly, dragging a chair along before taking a seat in front of Asami, who was chained so helplessly to the wall. “You, above all, should know that better than anyone.”
“Cut the crap, Fei Long. Where’s Akihito?” At that point, his patience was running thin.
“Don’t worry about Akihito. He’s a friend and I will make sure he’s safe from harm,” Fei Long replied calmly as he looked at the rare picture before him. Despite that superior mask he still wore, the great Asami Ryuichi was a wreck. With his disheveled hair and worn out eyes that couldn’t hide the hours he’d been awake, even while they still burn so vividly, he seemed like a cornered animal on the brink of going mad. What the hell did they do to him? Fei Long wondered.
“Safe?” Asami repeated with an edge to his tone. “She shot at him twice, in cold blood, and you want to tell me that he’s safe.” For all he knew, Akihito could be missing body parts or being beaten half to death by now. The idea alone made his blood boil in ways he could barely contain, and he could always control himself in any situation.
Fei Long sighed as he answered those accusing eyes with sincerity. “I want you to know this was never my intention. I wouldn’t have brought you or Akihito into this and I’m sorry that you were.” They were not supposed to be involved, especially not to this extent. He thought he’d ended the feud with Asami. But now after having heard what happened while he was captured, ending this particular feud would not be easy.
“You all have what you want. Now let him go.” Fei Long had been freed. He’d signed himself up as a witness to get Yan Tsui out of the way. That should be the end of it for Akihito, even though it was by far not for him.
“Go where?” Fei Long asked. “You know as well as I do he would never leave here without you.” Letting Akihito go wasn’t much of a problem; but without Asami, Fei Long could easily imagine the complications that would follow. Akihito would never just walk away. After all, the boy had come all the way here to save him who was just a friend. For Asami, there was no doubt how far Akihito would go. The question was, how far would Asami go for Akihito?
“And you can’t let me go either, can you?” Asami said with a touch of sarcasm in his tone. He wasn’t born yesterday. It was Arbatov’s territory and as such it was their call. From the way Feodora Arbatova ran the household, there was no way she would let him walk out alive and become a threat. Not to mention that Mikhail would have loved nothing more than to see him die. In their shoes, Asami would do the same.
Fei Long paused for a moment before he continued. What he was about to say wouldn’t be easy for the man to swallow. “It depends.”
Asami raised a brow at the possibility he had not anticipated. “On what?”
“On what you choose to do after hearing my proposal.”
“You got her to negotiate?” He knew Fei Long would have tried to save him, but that Feodora was willing to listen was indeed a surprise. The woman had balls possibly bigger than her husband’s. He couldn’t imagine her taking that chance over Fei Long’s pleading, or anyone’s for that matter.
“It doesn’t mean you’ll like what I have to say.” Feodora would not have negotiated over this, not unless it’s something that may benefit her more.
He reached for something in his pocket and held it for the other man to see. It was a small metal tube the size of a large pen, with a push button on one end and a small hole on the other. “This injector contains a vial of precisely 2 micrograms of poison dart frog toxin, enough to kill a grown man in less than five minutes. It’s designed to be injected under the skin, meaning you’ll likely be dead before you can finish calling your doctor. The vial is remote activated and equipped with built-in sensor, so we’ll also know if you try to remove it.”
“You were right about one thing,” Asami sneered half-heartedly. “I don’t like it.”
“That was sugar coated,” Fei Long said. “It’s activated by a satellite signal and Feodora holds the remote.”
It was indeed a problem. Based on what he’d seen, the woman could easily press the button during her manicure, and the only thing she’d worry about would be messing up her nail polish. If it had been Fei Long, he could have hoped for some hesitation.
“I can let you and Akihito go, right here, right now if you inject this into your arm and agree that this is where it ends; that you won’t seek revenge on me or my family. And by that I mean Liu and Arbatov.”
So they have officially allied, Asami thought. That would make them the most powerful figures in Asia’s underworld. There was certainly no shortage of bad news today.
“You know this means you and Arbatov will have complete control over me for as long as I live.” The idea was too absurd for him to even consider.
“I don’t intend to use this leverage against you unless you decide to become a threat to my family,” Fei Long assured him. “But I can’t answer for Feodora, Vladimir, or Mikhail.”
“And you really think that I would subject myself to this just to survive?”
Fei Long paused and looked at him in the eyes. “I had hoped that you may subject yourself to this for Akihito.”
Asami stilled for a moment at those words. Akihito. He’d somehow forgotten about him being in the picture. In that aspect it was the best way out for Akihito. They’d both have a chance to live, together, and things could go back to normal. The leverage the Russians would have over him wouldn’t affect his lover-- only Asami and his business. It was either this or be killed in this cell, leaving Akihito unprotected. It sounded like a good deal, but was it a price he was willing to pay for the boy?
“She told me you hesitated,” Fei Long continued. “That it had taken more than one shot at his head to make you agree to testify. I think it’s time you answer the question you should’ve a long time ago. What is he to you? What are you willing to sacrifice to keep him away from the line of fire?”
“The line of fire?” Those words irritated him to no end. It wasn’t a question of why he’d hesitated-- Akihito wasn’t supposed to be involved in the first place. Without Fei Long, they wouldn’t be here. Akihito would still be at home, living his normal life, and worrying about his normal job. “For your information, I had everything under control until you decided to interfere.”
“Had you?” Fei Long sneered. It was ridiculous how the man still had so much confidence after all this time. “The day I took him, he came to me. It wouldn’t have happened had he been informed of who I am. This wouldn’t have happened had he known what he was walking into.” The way he saw it, Akihito was an outsider who’d stumbled into their world unknowingly when he should have known better. The boy had been kept blindfolded in a room full of grenades, when he should’ve been efficiently warned and trained to avoid them.
“I don’t intend to have him involved with my business.” It wasn’t just dangerous, but it also meant allowing Akihito to become his weakness-- putting everything at risk.
“You don’t intend to,” Fei Long said in irritation. “What do you take him for? A pet you keep tied up by the bed whose sole purpose is to obey and please you? Do you really think that you can keep him on a leash? That he would be content at staying there with whatever you felt like throwing at him? Akihito loves you, and whether or not you like it, he is involved with everything you do, everything that you are and he has every right to. He will die from this, sooner or later, unless you’re prepared to put your life on the line and sacrifice everything to protect him!”
Asami had to admit there was truth in those words. It had become harder to control Akihito, and the more he’d tried to keep him out of it, the more Akihito had tried to venture deeper into his world. For a time he’d thought everything was going fine, but was it discontent he saw the boy’s eyes when he’d brushed those questions aside? Had he been blind to all this before? For how long?
To keep Akihito safe, Asami thought he’d only needed to keep him out of it, but whether or not he could had never crossed his mind. What if Fei Long was right? What if he couldn’t? To continue being with Akihito would mean putting him in danger with or without Fei Long in the picture. There were only two things to do-- let Akihito go, or drag him along into battle and hope that he would survive.
“What if I refuse?” Fei Long would try to keep him alive for as long as he could, and perhaps an opportunity may present itself.
“In hope that you may escape?"
Asami didn’t answer. He had to admit the Chinese man had gotten much smarter than he'd remembered.
"Perhaps that is also a possibility," Fei Long replied calmly. "If that is the path you choose, and if by extraordinary circumstances you do escape, I hope you remember the risk you’re taking and what you stand to lose." He stepped forward and placed the injector on the floor. It was close enough for Asami to reach while keeping himself at a safe distance.
“You two will be on the run for as long as you live, and should you also decide to seek vengeance,” Fei Long continued, his eyes suddenly narrowed and seemed to seep with venom, “know that I am prepared to hunt you down for the rest of my life if you try. And this time it won't be for love or longing, I assure you.”
It was between injecting himself with a deadly poison or being hunted down by Fei Long for what could be another three decades. Asami couldn’t decide which was the worst-case scenario. With Arbatovs thrown into the picture, he was beginning to think it was the latter. The way Fei Long looked at him that day also gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. For the first time, he couldn’t see a boy he could move at will. In front of him he saw a potential threat-- a man who wouldn’t hesitate to strike him down should the situation called for it. Instead of avenging himself, Phillip Toh had created a monster.
“Walk away, Asami,” he said firmly. “I’m giving you a choice you’d never given me - a chance to move on, to live, with him. Take it and walk away.”
A choice I’d never given him, Asami thought. Perhaps Fei Long was right. Maybe things would have turned out differently had he not ended things the way he did and given Fei Long cause to seek closure. Now that he was being confronted with the same dilemma, could he end it here as he’d often wished Fei Long would have? Could he walk away and try to deal with what he had left, or does he throw it away for pride and dignity, especially when Akihito’s life was also on the line?
“I will leave this here for you to decide. When it’s done both of you will be released.” Fei Long said as he headed for the door. “Grow a heart, Asami. Treasure the way it beats for Akihito. Be the man who deserves him before it’s too late.”
The door was shut with a soft, yet deliberate bang-- like a book that was closed after its final chapter was read. Fei Long felt the weight in his chest lifted, and his mind was as clear as a blank slate. Eight years of unfinished business had finally come to an end, at least on his part. Both he and Asami had paid heir dues for what they had done to each other. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to go down that path again.
“Can you really trust him to not seek revenge one way or another?”
Fei Long looked up at Yoh, who had been guarding the door without his knowledge. “Can I trust you to shoot if he does?”
“You should already know the answer to that question.”
“Good.” Fei Long smiled. “Then there should be no problem, shouldn’t there?”
“There shouldn’t,” another voice sounded from the door of the adjacent cell where Akihito had been held. Feodora stepped softly into the hallway with an injector in her hand.
“You didn’t.”
“Why shoot one bird when you can shoot two?” She replied as she placed the injector back in her pocket. “It’s not like I can’t afford it.”
Arbatovs, Fei Long wanted to say. It would have been better had their only reason been money. He knew exactly why she had shot Akihito with it. Leverage and back up. “You really take no chances, do you?”
“I can’t afford to.”
Fei Long looked into her eyes and then at the small pregnancy bump that was starting to show. “Neither can I,” he told her. It wasn’t just Mikhail he had to protect, but the child in her womb as well. He didn’t like the idea of putting Akihito in more danger, but she should know he had as much intention to protect this family as she does.
“What about Yan Tsui?” Yoh asked. “Don’t we need him to testify?”
“It’s a waste of time,” Fei Long said. “Yan has too many connections. He’ll find a way out, one way or another. I have arranged for him to leave Hong Kong. We’ll keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t return.” It was his last gesture of kindness towards his brother. After all, Fei Long had taken from him what was supposed to be his birthright, and no matter what the man had done, Yan Tsui remained the only brother he had known and his father’s blood. “Or I could shoot him with that vial of poison if you have spares.” He turned to Feodora with a playful grin.
“Really, why would you want to let him go?” She asked. “You could have kept him much longer, and made use of him the way he had used you.” She had to know Fei Long’s true intention, to be sure that it would not come back to hurt Mikhail again. “Why are you in such a hurry to end it now, after all this time?” Since he’d been out of the hospital, Fei Long had done nothing but run around to straighten everything-- from taking back Baishe to the issue of his brother, and now Asami Ryuichi. It was as though he needed to get it done, so he could do something or be somewhere.
Fei Long looked at her, and for a moment, she could feel the longing in those eyes that felt heavy against her heart.
“Because when he wakes up, I want to be able to assure him that nothing and no one will come between us ever again.” He wouldn’t allow it-- not this time. This time he was ready to do it all, to give it all for them the same way Mikhail had always done.
***
It had been two weeks since they had raided the penthouse suite, and since then Fei Long had yet to find the strength to enter the room where they’d admitted Mikhail. Perhaps it had been denial that had kept him away, or maybe he had been too afraid to face the truth. It was one thing to tell himself that he would hold on to hope no matter how long it may be, and another to face the reality that some dreams were never meant to come true, no matter how hard you try. Still, he had to face it sooner or later. This was where his heart would get put to the test, and he must not fail Mikhail.
He pushed open the door and entered. They had placed him a suite with a separate living room and a bedroom for the relatives. Feodora had two groups of five men, all armed to the teeth, guarding him 24 hours a day from the hospital entrance to the inner door. They nodded to him and moved out of the way without a word spoken. Feodora must have told them to expect him.
On the bed, with an IV tube connected to his arm, Mikhail was lying as still as a corpse, only the way his chest moved signified that he was still living. Fei Long took a deep breath and held it as he stepped closer, his feet felt as heavy as walking on quicksand. He’d felt it before-- at the morgue, when it was Alexei who had been placed in the middle of the room. This time it was Mikhail, and even though he was alive, it had taken all the strength he had just to pick up his feet. He may not wake up, they all said. What if they were right? What if he doesn’t? What if this image of Mikhail that he was about to witness turns out to be the last one he would ever see for the rest of his life?
Standing over the bed, Fei Long watched with a heavy heart the man who had become the very center of his life. His head was wrapped in bandages, and only parts of his curls were showing. The bruises Toh had inflicted upon him was beginning to fade. He looked so normal, as though he was just sleeping and would wake up at any minute.
“Mikhail.” Fei Long reached out to push away the curls that hung loosely around the handsome face. The tips of his fingers grazed the pale skin and it felt warm to the touch, only Mikhail did not stir. “Misha.”
Good morning sweetheart, he would have answered. Those blue eyes would sparkle like sapphires when they look at him, and soon he would be wrapped so tightly in those strong arms.
“Where are you?” He whispered, willing for those eyes to open, praying that his voice would be heard, wherever Mikahil was.
Something bumped on his foot as he moved. He looked down and saw a small black wallet on the floor. It must have been placed near the bed, along with his cigarettes, lighter and other personal belongings he had on him that day. Someone must have accidentally knocked it over. Picking it up, he could imagine Feodora sitting there, touching his things as she waited for him to wake up. It must have helped. He would have done the same.
He dragged a chair over and seated himself by the bed, rubbing his thumb on the worn out leather. It was funny how one remembered little things without knowing, like the way he held his wallet, where he kept it, or how he liked to shove his notes in it without first straightening them out. Fei Long could still remember wanting to tidy it up every time he saw it, but he’d always feared it would be too personal. Now he realized how wrong he had been. You would have liked that, wouldn’t you?
Opening it up, Fei Long took out the notes and rearranged them neatly. When Mikhail wakes up, maybe Mikhail would notice it, and his face would light up like a boy who’d just unwrapped his present. That’d always happened when Fei Long did something surprising, like remembering how Mikhail took his coffee, or noticed breadcrumbs on his cheek. -
A neatly folded piece of old paper peeked out from one of the pockets he was going through. Out of curiosity, Fei Long pulled it out and flipped it open. It was a check, written, signed, and torn in two. His name was on it, but the amount had been left empty.
I'd pay a million bucks to see that smile again. Wasn’t that what Mikhail had said that night? One piece of paper was where it had all began -- what had gotten him into Mikhail’s penthouse and opened a door neither of them could close. It was their first date, the very first time they’d kissed before he tore that check in two.
“You’ve always kept it here, haven’t you?” He said, his voice broken from the lump that swelled in the back of his throat. “You’ve kept us, from the very beginning to this day.”
How could he not know it? Through everything that had torn them apart, Mikhail had never intended to let go. The paper looked worn and crinkled, as though it had been taken out and handled a dozen times and placed back in its place. He must have tried and decided to keep it-- to keep them, over and over, every time.
"Wake up," he said as he closed his hand around Mikhail's. "Wake up and ask me again to come with you,” he told him. Where were they? Skiing in Switzerland, diving in the Maldives, or counting stars in the desert? “We'll go to all those places you've wanted us to go. I'll stay as long as you want me to stay, longer if you'll let me.” This time he wouldn’t say no. This time they would see it together, laugh together, and risk it all together. “Hold my hand again and I'll never let go. Kiss me again and this time I won't pull away. Give me another chance to do everything I should have done for you, with you." He squeezed the large hand tighter but it didn't answer to his touch as before. Wake up, and I will tell you a thousand times, those words you’ve been wanting to hear.
Some time later he must have fallen asleep by the side of the bed. In his dreams Mikhail was there as he always had been - by his side, so warm, and so alive. Memory after memory replayed in his mind like scenes from his favorite movies. He didn’t know if it would make it harder, but he’d wanted to see them, to be reminded of them, to keep them where nothing could erase. I’ve kept us too. Right here, where I could see you, always.
***
“Fei Long,” someone called him, softly at first and then louder, “Fei Long.”
He opened his eyes and saw Yoh standing next to him, by the bed. He turned to Mikhail and sighed. Still no sign of consciousness. “What time is it?”
“It’s eight in the morning,” Yoh replied, holding up some clothes on a hanger. “You have a meeting at ten. I’ve brought your suit.”
Work. He sighed again. Life goes on even when you don’t want it to. “I need a successor.”
Yoh knotted his brow a little. “You’re not even 30 and you already want to retire?”
“I have enough money to live for 500 years. Give me one reason why I should want to work.” He should be out there, living whatever’s left of his life, with Mikhail. What is the point of being on top of the world when there is no one there to share it with?
“Because when he wakes up, your savings will last precisely 8.6 years, based on the amount you’d spent on your last vacation with him,” Yoh told him, as though he was holding a calculator and showing him figures on his bank account. “Unless you’re planning on freeloading on Arbatov’s assets, you can’t afford to retire. Based on the amount he and his wife spend, that won’t last long either.”
“When he wakes up.” Fei Long repeated the words that suddenly gave him the strength he needed. Coming from someone like Yoh, it did feel like a-matter-of-fact.
“When he wakes up.” Yoh nodded and gave him the suit.
“Thank you.” It was true. Mikhail wouldn’t have wanted him to give it all up just to sit here and wait.
Something dropped on the floor as Fei Long was heading to the bathroom. Turning around, he saw the wallet lying under the bed. Yoh was standing right behind him. He remembered placing it where he slept, right next to Mikhail.
How…?
In a heartbeat, Fei Long rushed back to the bedside and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently and then firmer. “Mikhail.”
Mikhail’s eyes moved under the lids that were still closed, and Fei Long held his breath as he waited. They opened, blinked a few times then focused on Fei Long.
“Hi.” It was all he could say given the tears he’d tried to hold back. He wasn’t going to have Mikhail wake up to see him in tears.
It was like the first time they’d met. Those eyes looked at him with so much esteem, as if he was the only thing in the world worth looking at. His lips moved and Fei Long thought it had all been his own imagination.
“Who are you?”
***
A/NI: I don't usually have background music for my chapters, but this was what I felt appropriate and was listening to when I wrote the second half. I just feel like it should be shared.
Click to viewA/NII: For those who have missed my previous announcement, go read the next chapter marks the end of this arc and this trilogy. It is finished and will be posted on the 7th anniversary of this fic which is May 14th. Please be there for on last round of group hug! *_* As always, every comment helps get me going which will bring you more writing of this OTP