Started May 14th

Completed May 27th

Sometimes, I really and truly hate writing intense chapters. I love them to death. And many times, I love writing them. But the minute I finish, I feel like I have to go take a pain pill. I get so into what I'm writing that I subconsciously mimic some of the things that the characters do—and in an intense chapter, I personify them as being tense.

…My shoulders are so tense…

As a side note: Sorry for being a day late! And for those on Twitter who kind of got the warning: Sorry for being about eleven hours late! I went on an outing with the family and got the worst sunburn. I can barely move. It sucks.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Fortitude


Fortitude: (Noun) Mental and emotional strength in facing difficulty, adversity, danger, or temptation courageously.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Throughout my lifetime, I have encountered countless situations that had outright spelled danger—whether it was meant for me or someone else. It was simply a part of the life I lived— the life of a detective.

In each and every one of those times, I had prepared myself in advance for the likelihood that I would never see the light of day again. It might have been something of a morbid ritual of fortitude, but to me, it was natural. I was involved in a dangerous line of work and I wasn't naïve or arrogant or stupid enough to ignore the possibility that it could one day spell the end for me. I wanted to be able to meet my end head on with no regrets.

Except, this time, I didn't have a chance to do that. I had charged in head-first, not thinking about the possible consequences. And that was okay. Sometimes, that can't be helped—it was "move first, think later" or there was no chance of changing things for the better.

This time around, though, I couldn't help the one word that swam through my head with a fierce, raging guilt.

Kaito…

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

The magician's feet smacked loudly against the pavement on the roof, his breath coming out in harsh pants as he cursed the wind's direction. If he was calculating right, that little factor was going to cost him precious minutes. The use of his glider was limited. Kaito shook his head and leapt across the few short feet separating rooftops.

He needed to get there. He needed to get to Shinichi's side now. He needed to be there…! If he didn't…

A strangled noise of fear tangled in his throat, caught just beneath his heavy breaths as he tried his damndest to restrain the clawing tendrils of hysteria that were ripping at his gut.

"Please…!" The word came out silently and he choked on icy air. His skin prickled as the wind subtly shifted directions, almost making him gasp in relief. Without a single pause, he extracted his glider, riding the air currents as far as he could before they worked against him once more. As his feet touched the cement of a rooftop once more, he stumbled into a faster run, ignoring the biting ache at his muscles.

Kaito's eyes prickled with heat as he recalled Shinichi's face that fateful night he'd pressed their lips together, the way his expressions had flitted across his features with a startling haste.

Shock, wonder, intrigue…

"Please!" he called blindly, hoarsely. His mind abruptly supplied him with an image of his last conversation with Akako.

"Don't let him die."

His heart leapt into his throat. "You can't die on me yet!" The brunette briefly stumbled from a messy landing. "I have things to tell you… I still have to make you fall for me..! Please be safe!"

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

The silence was heavy in the warehouse upon the docks.

Shinichi had been lucky. In fact, he had no idea how that had plausibly happened. As soon as he had burst through the door, he had most certainly gained the attention of the three occupants of the warehouse. Both of the assassins hovering over Vermouth had snapped their heads in his direction, Gin's grip on his gun wavering as he briefly hesitated. His loud and unprecedented entrance had caused enough confusion and bought him enough time to tackle Vermouth behind a large pillar.

He had to move fast. Knowing that Gin and Vodka would recover from the shock within seconds, he pulled the .9mm from where he had stashed it and fired a round in the direction of the assassins. He heard the scrambling of footsteps before the warehouse grew silent again. Good. Now they knew that he was armed and they would have to proceed cautiously. Hopefully that would buy them enough time…

From beside him, Vermouth gave him a wide-eyed look. "Cool guy…" she whispered, her eyes suspiciously bright in the almost-darkness. He pursed his lips into a frown and turned his attention away, pressing up against the wide pillar and holding the pistol at the ready. He wasn't willing to confront her over her actions just yet. He didn't have the time or patience.

Not to mention, he was sort of guilty of similarly reckless actions…

The silence was oppressive, his heart thumping painfully in his chest and the blood pumping through his veins being the only sound he heard. He shifted slightly to suck in an unsteady breath, but the air got stuck in his throat. He tensed when the sound of a throat clearing echoed through the emptiness.

"A-Aniki…" Vodka stuttered out, no doubt looking to the older and wiser assassin for an answer on how to move next.

Gin snapped from his all-encompassing thoughts, gaze darting to the shorter man as he hissed, "Shut up, you fool!"

Gin relaxed his trigger finger and turned his attention back to the pillar across from them, away from Vodka's mild flinch. "So I see you have backup, then," the silver-haired man practically sneered. From beside Shinichi, Vermouth slumped wearily against the cement at her back. Her voice, however, betrayed none of her exhaustion. She darted a quick look to Shinichi, continuing as he nodded.

"I must admit, Gin, it wasn't exactly planned," she darted a vague smile at the detective to her right, wincing as she held her hand to her shoulder—mimicking Shinichi's own injury. The sight made him remember his own injury and he started in pained empathy, hand almost falling away from his gun to grip at his own shoulder.

Though he had received a response, Gin ignored her words, continuing as if she had never replied in the first place. "Your backup, however… he looks… familiar… Who exactly are you?" Gin wondered aloud, not expecting a response. The assassin pondered over the quick glimpse he had gotten of Shinichi before his expression grew dark and his smirk fell into an infuriated scowl.

"Kudo… Shinichi…" he tested the name aloud, causing Shinichi to give a startled jump. Shinichi snapped his head to the side, vision going mildly hazy as he concentrated his ears solely upon Gin, just a few short yards behind him.

"Tropical Land. The arms deal—you were that nosey, arrogant little detective. You were supposed to be dead; by my own hands. But for some reason, your death was one of the very few in the history of the Organization unaccounted for. Somehow, you managed to survive the Apotoxin." Gin flipped the gun in his hands, absently rubbing at the barrel and gliding his fingers along the silencer. "It cost me quite a bit of trust with the boss…" his voice had taken on a threatening tinge.

"But the question is…" Gin dropped the gun to his side, fingers tightening around the grip. "How in the hell did you manage to survive?" The words had been just above a quiet hiss, but were loud in the silent emptiness of the warehouse. There was no mistaking the anger that bubbled beneath them.

"Sorry," Shinichi called hoarsely, clearing his throat before saying, "I don't feel too inclined to tell you." He pressed himself closer to the cement, face crumpling in pain as his body screamed in torment. His limbs were aching with overuse and his shoulder was on fire. He had pushed himself too far. "Damn," he cursed quietly, stance wavering somewhat.

"Regardless… It seems as if your crimes are heavier than I had imagined, Vermouth." Gin spat the name as if it were vile. He pieced the bits of information he had been provided together with ease. "You know Kudo Shinichi… You've known that he was alive. This just goes to show that you had been a traitor all along." He stepped forward, his footsteps clacking loudly. Before he could pace too far, however, Shinichi snapped his hand from around the pillar and fired off another warning shot, forcing him to halt his movement.

The shot ricocheted off of a metal container from behind him before burrowing itself into a wall of brick. Even though the bullet had been uncomfortably close, Gin simply gave a shark grin. He continued as if nothing had happened. "…And you know what happens to traitors, Vermouth. Their threads are cut short."

He shifted his stance, form easing into that of a predator. "But you… I'm going to make sure you scream. You are going to be begging for me to end it." Shinichi ignored the unpleasant drop of his stomach, eyes taking in his surroundings and thoughts whirling a mile a minute. He had to do something. He had to find a way out of this situation, or pretty soon, he'd run out of bullets. Gin was obviously becoming more and more daring by the minute, and the second he charged was the instant that they forfeit their lives. They had to make the first move. It was the only way.

As Gin began to list off the ways that he would make Vermouth scream (and Vermouth goaded him with easy-going words as she glanced sharply to the detective sitting beside her) Shinichi slipped into the haze that he usually went into at a scene. From what he had briefly seen, there were multiple bulk piles of shipments dotted throughout the warehouse. However, there weren't enough to cover them. There were large, wide spaces between each of the pallets that would leave them open and vulnerable to the two assassins.

He turned his attention to Vermouth beside him, cataloging her damage. She was bleeding heavily, clutching at her shoulder with a tense expression on her face. He could tell that she would lose consciousness pretty soon if they didn't act fast. Shinichi caught a glance of an odd discoloring toward her feet. Cerulean eyes settled on Vermouth's right ankle, exposed from beneath her pant leg. His mouth twitched into a worried frown. By the way it was swollen, there was no doubt that it had been fractured. There was even a chance that it was broken. Shinichi ignored the drop in his stomach and took stock of his own state.

He was out of breath and his limbs were weary. He wouldn't be able to move at full speed. To top it all off, his shoulder was pulsing with pain and there was no doubt in his mind that it would slow him down significantly.

To sum things up, there was absolutely no chance of them moving at their best, and little chance of being able to take advantage of their surroundings. Their options were severely limited and none of them looked too promising. The only one that had a remote chance of them walking away alive was to distract Gin and Vodka and run for it. They had to make it outside and then they could use the odd layout of the warehouses to gain some distance. Outside would be their best chance at finding cover.

But that all boiled down to one crucial question. What exactly would he have to do to distract the two of them? It would have to be something big—something that gave them enough time to make it out of the warehouse and around one of the neighboring ones. He deliberated over his options (coming to the point where he had begun to think that he would have to actually shoot Gin) until he heard a sound to his right. His body seized with terror, and with an abrupt epiphany, he came to realize that he had forgotten about Vodka and focused his ears vaguely upon Gin.

A fatal mistake.

His head snapped to the side in time to hear Vermouth's shout and catch sight of Vodka, throwing himself across the short space in order to tackle Shinichi to the ground, gun clattering a few feet away. The impact threw Vermouth a little ways away, luckily behind the cover of one of the large shipment crates, sheltering her from any shot that Gin could currently take. She thudded against the crate with a loud, dull noise, form slumping to the cement.

Vodka pressed his weight into Shinichi, wrapping his meaty hands around the detective's slender throat and squeezing just enough to mildly restrict the flow of blood to his brain. His vision became hazy and he gasped, abused lungs already desperate for air. He didn't have time for this..!

It was during times like these that he was grateful for his soccer abilities. All of those years training on the soccer field had paid off, rewarding him with powerful legs. Using all of the energy he could muster, he jerked his leg up, knocking his knee into the back of the larger man's thighs and disrupting his center of balance. He jolted his arm up, balling his hand into a fist and slamming it against the man's jugular and then used the rest of his strength to kick the man off of him. As soon as he found his breath again, he threw himself down in the direction of the gun he had dropped, wrapping his fingers around the grip just as he heard a click above him.

Shinichi froze in place, fingers tightening in a death-grip around the .9mm as he glanced up and into the barrel of a gun. Gin stood above him with a menacing grin, not a single silver hair out of place. Like he had expected this outcome all along. Like he had planned it.

It was their win.

Slowly, Shinichi closed his eyes, blocking out the sight of his impending doom as he lingered on a single thought.

Kaito… I'm so sorry…

"Shinichi!" The voice caused his head to snap up, his sharp movement mimicking Gin's as a blur came from behind the assassin. A shot rang out, followed by the sound of the ping of metal and Kaito and Gin tumbled away. Shinichi stumbled to his feet, an icy chill settling at his chest. Just as he teetered forward with the desire to help Kaito, the magician slammed the silver-haired assassin away, chancing a glance in Shinichi's direction and widening his eyes. "Behind you!" he yelled, snapping his attention back to Gin as the furious man aimed a heavy punch at him.

The detective spun on his heel, throwing his leg up and catching Vodka in the side. The large, burly assassin slid a few feet and almost fell to his knees. All too quickly, however, he recovered, barreling back toward Shinichi. As Shinichi desperately tried to keep himself moving in order to avoid the savage throws that Vodka was throwing, Kaito was in the midst of his own little battle.

The magician dodged a few wayward blows before he messed up. The hit sent him sliding backwards and left his cheek throbbing in pain. However, he couldn't linger upon the pain, for this fight was one that could only be won by speed. He was up against a professional killer and he wasn't stupid enough to think he could last in a stamina battle of blows. Kaito had to end this as quickly as possible in order to ensure his life. He darted forward, eyes widening when Gin reached within the confines of his coat and pulled out a small hidden revolver.

The assassin cocked the gun, gaze aiming true. Luckily for Kaito, he was fast on his feet. The magician turned thief sped forward, ducking beneath Gin's arm and snapping his hand up, forcing the gun safely away from himself and Shinichi. Two shots rang out in succession, causing Kaito to realize that it was a semi-automatic revolver. He sent a blow into the assassin's abdomen; taking a chancing glance over his shoulder in the direction he had last seen Shinichi.

"Shin..!" Kaito was relieved to find that Vodka was down and out for the count; out cold on the cement floor. The detective, however, was nowhere to be foun—

He jumped back, dodging a powerful blow from Gin and turned his attention back on the taller and older man, eyes widening as he caught sight of Shinichi over the man's shoulder. A soccer ball expanded from the bracelet that he had recently received from Agasa-hakase, snapping away from the jewelry with a quiet pop. Shinichi drew his leg back and drove it forward with all his might, kicking the ball right into the back of Gin's neck.

The assassin snapped forward, stumbling somewhat with a growl and turned to face Shinichi, only to be pricked with two tiny darts from the detective's newly revamped watch. The silver haired man swayed on his feet for a moment before he finally collapsed to the ground with a loud thud.

The two brunets stood poised in the silence, adrenaline pumping through their veins and blood rushing through their ears. Kaito and Shinichi slowly met gazes until Kaito was suddenly crossing the distance between the two of them, wrapping the slightly-shorter male in an embrace. Slowly, tentatively, Shinichi brought his arms up, wrapping them firmly around the magician.

Breathe.

In. Out.

They held each other silently for a moment, both detective and thief shaking slightly from the adrenaline, fear, and relief.

Kaito pulled away from the hug, looking Shinichi over before shaking his head with an expelled breath of relief. "I'm so glad you're okay." Shinichi almost smiled. He gripped the detective by the shoulders for a bit longer before he pulled away altogether, taking a moment to cross over to Vodka and pop some ropes into existence. He tossed one of them to Shinichi while he held the remaining one, and the two of them got to work tying up the two assassins. It was only a minute or two's work, but they finally finished, Shinichi taking precaution to kick away their weapons and checking them for any other hidden gadgets. Satisfied, Shinichi pulled away, taking a glance at Kaito before remembering Vermouth.

He rounded the magician, darting to the woman's side and fell to his knees. The platinum blonde haired woman gave a faint groan as he gripped her shoulders, taking care to roll her over as easy as he could. What he saw made his stomach bottom out. Above him, Kaito cursed, "Shit!" Instantly, the magician had procured a cell phone and dialed nine-one-one. Slowly, Vermouth opened her eyes with a pained cough, her resigned gaze meeting his own. She gripped feebly at his arm and gave a tentative smile, blood slowly pooling around her.

"Cool guy…"

Vermouth had been shot in the stomach.


Chapter Twenty-Five

End

Once again, I reiterate: Cliff-hanger junkie! I was seriously not kidding. Egads.

Anyways. I'm sure you guys have figured it out—we're on the final stretch of Endless Chase! Just a few more chapters and it's all over!

(Suddenly, in my head, I imagined that one episode of American Dad where Barry throws up his arms and cries, "The all-is-lost moment!" …I really need to get my niece to stop re-watching things like Family Guy and American Dad. I use them for references way too much.)

Aside from my odd mental visuals, this chapter ended up being about a thousand words less than I had planned for it to be. Aww. Oh well.

Please let me know what you think! :D