det·ri·ment
ˈdetrəmənt/
noun
the state of being harmed or damaged

       
[a lot of ppl called the last chapter but nobody called the ending to this. Gotchu all here aha]

"I'm sorry," Brendon whispered hurriedly under his breath. His eyes were wide, pupils blown. Tears were threatening to spill over down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

I had to fumble for his hand and clutch it like it was a lifeline, as if simply holding his hand would keep him from falling apart. He was nothing like his file had implied. "You have nothing to be sorry for, don't you dare start apologizing-"

"Dallon, we have to get out of here, right now-"

"We have to stay for the time being, Urie, then we have to take this information back to headquarters immediately." I wouldn't walk out of Prince's office with my head still attached to my body unless I reported back with details about everything. Leaving immediately would seem too suspicious, and everybody would figure out that we were not who we claimed to be before my forty dollar shoes would set foot out the door.

Tyler stepped forward first, introducing himself once more as Animosity and Josh as Virulent, and waving to the crowd. Even though Brendon and I were so far back, I could still pick out a murderous gleam in his eyes. "... again, thank you all for taking the time to come out here and join us. Our apologies for this being so last minute - we were informed we were having a very special guest tonight."

Murmurs passed around the room, spreading rumors as to who the guest was, why they were so important. 

Josh stepped forward, hands raised to shush the excitement before it spiraled out of control. He smiled and took a step closer to his partner. "They will be announced later on. For now, we ask for you to find a seat - kick back, relax, have a drink. The real fun will start soon."

The tables were set up in various group sizes, name tags and all. Brendon and I found Inimical and Enmity near the outskirts of the room, furthest away from the exit, with two seats and one flower vase instead of two or three like the other tables displayed.

I'd taken one for the team and sat with my back facing everyone while Brendon took the chair across from me. I didn't want to freak him out any further by having his back to a group of cold killers.

"Take my gun."

Again, he'd caught me off guard. "What? Urie, there's no way in hell you're passing a loaded gun to me, I don't care if it's under the table or in plain sight-"

"I swear to god," he hissed, eyes transfixed on mine, like he was afraid to move a muscle, "if you don't take it I'm going to shoot either myself, or someone that will gladly shoot me back."

"I'm not taking your gun."

"Please, take the gun-" Brendon was interrupted by the microphone sending feedback through the speakers, a few guests covering their ears at the sudden commotion.

Virulent stepped back out in front of the audience with a smile so bright it rivaled the gems on the chandeliers and the rings on Jenna Black's fingers. Animosity followed close behind with a glass case mounted on a pedestal matching the marble floor. Of course the first item had to be the Grandidierite Wentz had told me about.

Animosity took the microphone, holding up a fist to the audience. "We'll start at... ten."

I turned to Brendon. He'd begun to calm down, thankfully, but he was still shocked at the events unfolding right in front of our eyes. "Ten dollars?"

He shook his head gravely. "Ten million."

We watched the bids skyrocket hundreds of millions before it was sold for just shy of eight hundred with six zeroes following.

⋘⋙

Neither of us were brave enough to even dare to put up our hands for anything. We both sat in stunned silence as the prices shot higher and higher with each item brought to the makeshift stage.

The Egyptian artifacts sold for six hundred million. Statues from Rome sold higher, Greek art stealing the highest amount of the night for the time being. I felt sick to my stomach, uneasy with anger and frustration more than anything. All I could think of was pulling the trigger and sending a bullet or two flying across the room before-

"And we have one last prize tonight," Virulent smiled, the crowd stuck between excited and upset, "although, he's not for sale, even if he is our special guest tonight."

He.

I'd barely began to reach across the table to grab Brendon's hand and run, run back to the car and bolt back to headquarters, but the second my gaze left the Mercenary Lovers, the barrel of Brendon's gun was aimed point blank between my eyes.

"Should've taken my gun, huh?"

For a moment, I thought everything was a prank. I thought Brendon would turn the gun to Animosity and Virulent and fire as many times as he could and we'd go down fighting. I hoped he'd shoot behind me and take out a couple murderers, I hoped he'd do anything to prove he was partaking in a complex plan I'd never understand.

He didn't. "I-Is this a joke?" I hissed under my breath. Last chance.

Brendon sent a bullet through the chair right next to my ear, the heat burning through my skin as if the weight of the situation wasn't doing enough already. "If it was," he blinked, unfazed, "I would've done something by now."

And slowly, ever so slowly, people began to file out of the room once it'd been announced the event was over. Brendon didn't dare break eye contact, his position never wavering until he returned the firearm to his waistband.

"Stand up." He said and waved his hand over to my left toward the main stage, where Animosity and Virulent were both still waiting.

"No." I wasn't going down without a fight, I'd gotten so far I couldn't give up. I couldn't end up like Rosemary and Finn, I didn't want to turn up dead like my previous partner. "I-I'd rather you kill me before I do anything for you."

Brendon let out a low grumble and slammed the table in what I assumed to be anger. He dragged his palm down his cheek as he spoke. "Please don't make this any harder than it's going to be. This whole plan has already been enough, I don't want-"

While his attention was averted to Animosity and Virulent for a split second, I took the opportunity to grab my own gun and aim for his chest. In less than a few seconds after, I heard the click of other weapons to my side. I'd been outnumbered three to one, including Brendon once again.

"Put the gun down," Brendon growled - growled -, "all of you. Don't make it more difficult than it is."

The skid of metal across the tile was startling enough to hear let alone the sound of my own weapon clattering to the floor. I'd been betrayed and trapped in a room with the criminals topping the most wanted list, and I'd listened to the madman in front of me and set down my defenses. I almost wished he'd pull the trigger and shoot me instead of whatever he had planned. Death would be better anyways.

The click of handcuffs echoed throughout the room, ringing in my ears each time they'd wind tighter around my wrists. "C-can you at least tell me why?"

Animosity and Virulent stepped away, all three ignoring my question. "It's good to have you back, Arcane."

Brendon nodded and set down his own gun for the second time and turning to make conversation with the murderers behind him. "It's good to be back. I missed the whole villainous line of work - Clandestine was too goody-two-shoes for me, y'know?"

I felt like I was taking part in one big connect the dots puzzle. I hadn't heard of anyone called Arcane before. "You're not an agent, are you?"

The look in Brendon's eyes was different. He wasn't as afraid as he was just an hour ago, he wasn't the same person I'd traveled with for the past few days. God, I'd hoped I was seeing things whenever I did catch a glimpse, but I swore I was being stared down by a completely different person.

"Observant," he said, sauntering closer with every breath, "no, I'm not an agent. I never was, and I never planned on it until I heard of you."

The dots lost all connection. "What do you mean?"

"Go ahead," Animosity spoke up, his arm curled around Virulent's shoulders, "he's not going anywhere. He won't even remember this."

"He won't, he won't," Brendon repeated the phrase a few more times and stopped when he was barely a few inches away from my chest, "go set up, if you will."

"Leave you here? Alone? With him?" Animosity frowned and crossed his arms. "That sounds like a bad idea."

He shrugged, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "I have it taken care of."

My heartbeat pounding in my ears disguised the sound of the gunshots, but the few bullets lodged in my leg were too loud to ignore. He shot me - he shot me so I couldn't run. He touched his hand to my chest and pushed me to the floor without so much as an ounce of effort, taking a seat and resting his firearm on my shoulder.

"You see, my line of work is a tough one-"

"You kill innocent people for money and-"

"Don't interrupt me, Weekes. You said you wanted an explanation, here it is." He paused to glare down at me, lips pressed to a tight frown. I didn't say a word in fear he'd pull the trigger and send a shot right through my neck. I also felt like I was about to be sick, but that was beside the point.

Brendon took a breath and hugged his knees to his chest, appearing more vulnerable than he really was. "I haven't even made my debut yet - nobody knows who I am. Tyler and Josh, everyone knows them, as in both of them. They're inseparable. Everyone knows Inimical and Enmity, and so on and so forth. All these couples among all these criminals and murderers, and I couldn't help but wonder just what would really be the tipping point when I finally get out there-"

"Tipping point?" I knew he was talking about the crime to make him known, but whatever he was telling me made it sound like he needed someone else.

"Tipping point. When Animosity is done, Virulent steps in. Same with Inimical and Enmity, every successful criminal I've ever met has two people working side by side."

"A-and why do you need me? I'm from Clandestine, I don't do what you do." I asked, but I already knew the reason why. The door swung open, only to slam shut just out of my peripheral vision, followed by two sets of footprints.

Brendon got to his feet, leaving my question unanswered. All of them were unanswered - what would happen to Ryan, or Pete, if they'd be okay while I was gone. If everything was a trap or if most of it wasn't planned, if Prince was in on it, if they'd pinpoint my location before I went silent.

Everything had started to go blurry by the time Brendon put his weight on my chest, flicking a heavy syringe in his hand before placing his hand on my cheek and pressing to the floor. He kissed me to dull the sharp pain in the side of my neck, just like I had barely a few hours earlier.

"Everything's ready, right?"

"Everything's ready when you are."

Brendon twisted into one big blob, spinning like we were stuck on a carousel that just kept speeding up, faster and faster and faster... and faster... and faster...

"Goodnight, Dallon."






















[so like this is all unedited I finished the re-done ending about 10 minutes ago because I felt like I should've added more than just sedatives and ending that there. But there's the epilogue too & then this is done]