A/N: Don't own the Characters. Braeden/Derek fic. You saw the trailer, let's not pretend. In addition to this, it's going to be my version of Season Four. The characters may be the same and so may some of the situations, but for all sakes and purposes this will be different. This is my second Teen Wolf fanfic, after I kind of lost sight of the second one. If you like it, which I hope you do, let me know and I can continue it. If you don't like it, and I hope you will, well…who knows?

*Sets GPS for Beacon Hills*

Chapter One: The Pull

"Do you try to sneak up on everyone?" Morrell asked.

I shrugged as I came up beside her. "Force of habit."

We were at a dive not too far outside of Beacon Hills. It was still local enough to be considered a part of the city, but far enough for privacy. I was pretty sure that's why she'd picked it, that and she knew I wasn't setting foot back there unless cash was involved. Nothing against the place, but it just rubbed me the wrong way. Not the supernatural aspect of it, just that unless you were central to it you tended to die.

I still liked my life.

Inside was the thing I'd missed the most about California, the food. Come to the less popular parts of the state and you could get a burger that could change your life. I could smell the ground beef cooking on the grill, hear the sound of it sizzling. There were people scattered in various parts, talking to the point of being one loud noise. I could hear an old nineties song, although I couldn't remember what it was. Morrell led us into a booth towards the back, nodding to a woman behind the counter on the way. When we slid into our booth, I smiled.

"What?" She smiled back.

"You did better this time." I replied. "Last time you took me to some upscale bistro place with tiny square plates."

"I was trying to expand your horizons."

"You were trying to make me starve."

Morrell had always been pretty, ever y since I was little. Her even toned honey skin still held the youthful appearance it always had. Here lashes were long and eyebrows arched. She had a knowing look in her dark brown eyes that managed to be both mysterious and amused at the same time. Her hair was perfect and straight, parted down the middle and resting behind her shoulders. The skirt suit she wore was cute but meant business.

She smirked and shook her head. "Always assessing."

"It's how you stay alive, you know that." I smiled.

"Of course." She replied. "And how's that been working out for you?"

"You see where I am." I said, toying with the edge of the menu. "Still kicking."

Our waiter came to the table. "I'm Davis and I'll be your server." He said, beaming to Morrell. "What can I get for…"

His voice trailed off when he got to me.

I was used to it by now, but it never stopped being annoying. They were scars, not wounds. Every since my fight with a very nasty pack of homicidal Alphas in high school locker room, I hadn't been able to get rid of them. My other scars had healed and faded, but I guess I was stuck with these. Some days I wore them like a badge of honor. Other days I didn't feel anything for them one way or the other. .

I tilted my face upward into the light and let Davis get a full glimpse of them. He had gone from shocked curiosity to full on staring, eyes roaming over each one. I flashed a winning smile and winked at him, lacing my fingers together on the table.

"If you stare long enough, they'll tell you how they got there." I said sweetly.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't-"

"Double bacon cheeseburger." I said, picking up the menu and looking over it. "Large fries, diet coke, slice of pie."

"What, um, what kind of pie?" He asked.

"Surprise me." I smiled and handed him the menu.

He wrote down my order and turned to Morrell. "You ma'am?"

She shook her head. "Nothing right now, thank you."

He looked relieved to be leaving our table.

"That was mean." She said.

"He shouldn't stare." I told her as I put a hand on my chest. "I could be sensitive about it."

"Could be?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh please." I said. "You know me better than that."

"I do. Speaking of, that was a lot of food you ordered. When was the last time you ate?"

"Is that your way of telling me to cut back?"

"It's my way of asking when's the last time you ate."

I gave her a look. "I eat all the time."

"No." she said. "You travel all the time, you hunt all the time. Eating isn't a high priority of yours."

"It is," I told her. "But I figured since you're paying and all I'd treat myself."

"You sound like Deaton." She smiled.

"He's a smart guy."

"That he is." She said. "They say he's being considered for a leader."

The "they" in question was the Emissary council. It was who they, she and Deaton, worked for in protection and advisory of the wolves. They were the leaders of the bloodlines stemming from the first group of druids who'd helped King Lycaon and his sons after they'd been turned. If they wanted Deaton, that meant he was moving up.

"Serious stuff." I said. "How does he feel about it?"

"Doesn't want to leave home, doesn't think he can. I told him I could handle it if he did need to go but…"

She didn't need to say it, I already knew.

Ever since she'd worked with Deucalion, hardly any of the Emissaries had an easy time trusting her. The code was to protect, serve, and bestow knowledge upon the wolves however necessary. The other part of the code was to die rather than support a corrupt wolf. Since Morrell had played both sides of the fence with good intentions, it didn't bode well in our community.

Well, her community.

I was a part of the Druid bloodline, one that had a slight innate gift for precognition, but it wasn't something I was into. Devoting your life to a pack of unruly creatures sounded like more fun than it actually was. I'd heard of Emissaries who'd been killed their first night out with their alpha mainly because there was so little reasoning with one. Being born in tune with the supernatural wasn't something I could just ignore. Carrying on the family business wasn't something I wanted.

And so here I am.

Ironically enough, I was in pretty high demand. I was nineteen, pretty, had just enough spark to see the supernatural and enough sense not to be completely of it. I was a great in a fight, quick on my feet, and there were few weapons I wasn't good at. I could drive almost anything, would fight damn near everything, and would find, steal, and do whatever else necessary. For a price of course.

But Morrell didn't have that option. She'd been raised to follow the Emissary line through and through. While my parents had been a little more lenient, especially my father, I'd met the elder Morrell's before. They weren't mean or anything, just serious about what was going on. Order was something the supernatural community lacked and it was an Emissary's job to keep the werewolves on the right track and towards fulfilling their destiny.

That was another reason why I ditched the whole Emissary thing. I had my own destiny to worry about.

I waved it off. "Probably for the best anyway. He's always been a little more attached to Beacon Hills since his last pack right?"

She nodded. "Right. And even more so now that Scott McCall is a True Alpha."

"So he did ascend." I nodded. "Not bad."

"It's a little more complicated than that, but yes, he's there."

I was going to regret asking, especially since she'd thrown it out there for me. "Complicated how?"

She smirked and even though it was just the corner of her mouth, it was practically a grin from ear to ear.

"He's an alpha that hasn't tapped into it yet." Said Morrell. "The strength, the speed, the awareness. It's stronger than a Beta but a far cry from where he's supposed to be."

"He has a pack right?" I asked. "That's usually a source of strength."

"He has his friends." Morrell rolled her eyes. "A wise ass, a banshee, a newly acquired kitsune, and his former alpha."

"What happened to the hunter? Argent?" I asked.

"Killed by the Oni." She replied. "Right in front of Scott."

Before I could ask, she beat me to it.

"Isaac Lahey took off shortly thereafter."

I remembered Isaac, my first Californian job. It was the first time Morrell decided to use me, despite what she thought about my occupation. Having her contact me while I was in a cage in Texas on a job was a trip. The money she offered me was even more of one. I remembered ambushing the alphas and carrying a scrawny kid out of an old bank as fast as I could. That night had been wild and terrifying all at the same time.

"Sounds to me like he found a work around." I said. "A pack doesn't necessarily have to be wolves."

"No, but an alpha does necessarily need an Emissary."

Davis came over with my food faster than I thought. He set the plate down in front of me and put the saucer with my pie on it right beside it. He'd chosen cherry. It was a good choice. He put a napkin down and sat my diet coke on it. He smiled at me, facing me with confidence.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"We're good here."

When Davis left, I picked up a fry and went back to Morrell. "I thought Deaton was handling the Emissary thing."

"He advises him, of course, but you know that's not how it works. It's a connection, a bond. If Deaton doesn't feel it, which is what he's told me, then it's not him."

"Okay…" I trailed off. "And what about you?"

"I haven't found my alpha yet and I'm not in a rush to." She replied. "He or she is out there, I can feel them, but I have a lot more to do before I just show up and announce myself."

"Sounds to me like you might be in business with McCall." I said as I picked up my burger and took a bite. I could've cried it was so good.

"He's doesn't trust me that much either. Moral ambiguity isn't a strong point amongst werewolf types."

"Only because no one's figured out that not everything is black and white. Grey areas exist and they're bigger than most people want to believe. I think it's unfair for you to be judged solely on the fact that you weren't squeaky clean with your approach."

"Explain that."

I took another bite of my burger, washed it down, and continued. "Wolves don't do anything squeaky clean. There's blood and conflict and sometimes even war. We've seen that. A wolf's job is to protect, serve, and defend. You did all of those things on a way bigger scale, but just behind the scenes."

She paused for a second, looking away, something rare even for her.

"I want you to come back to Beacon Hills."

I picked up more fries. "Not happening."

Her eyes narrowed. "Braeden, I'm serious."

"Marin, so am I." I said picking up more fries. "There's nothing there but chaos and blood."

"Says the mercenary."

"Exactly! Beacon Hills wasn't a clean job any of the time I was there and the time before last I almost got killed twice."

"And then started working for the man who gave you those scars you're not sensitive about."

The deal was complicated, one I wouldn't have accepted if the price hadn't been so high. Deucalion had stepped out of the woods just as I'd reached the edge of the city, briefcase in hand. His glasses were gone and his eyes were healed and after I left hooked him, he told me all the cash in the case was mine. I only had to do one thing.

"Save Derek Hale."

I ate the fries without missing a beat. "Money talks a lot louder than a grudge."

"I didn't peg you for a sellout."

"You never named a high enough price."

"Look," Morrell leaned forward. "I know you think the lifestyle you're leading is something that's going to take you far-"

"You are not giving me the life coach speech."

"But what happens when it's over, Braeden? What then? What happens when there's too many men with too many weapons and you have too many injuries? Who's coming for you? Who's defending you?"

"What I do is a solo thing. I knew that going in."

"But it doesn't have to be. You want adventure and growth, that's something you can get from Beacon Hills and the help is needed. No matter what you think about it, no matter how you feel, you're a Druid. It's in your blood little cousin, you can't spend that after a job."

The term cousin was used loosely in Emissary community. Since there weren't as many the bloodlines overlapped in one way or another, but managed to keep their own rights and respects. Morrell's line was pretty close to my line.

I shook my head. "I'm not going back."

"What's it going to cost?" Morrell asked.

"You're not getting it." I said. "The money isn't the issue."

"Then what is?"

"The collateral damage."

"Beg pardon?"

I sighed. "You want to what I've learned about Beacon Hills? I've learned that unless the drama and the action and supernatural elements are focused solely on you, you die. You're caught in the crossfire, you're someone's lesson, you're an accident, you're an innocent. I've learned that even though there's a human with barely enough athletic skill to dodge a ball, because he's best friends with the True Alpha, he comes out unscathed."

"That's not true."

"It's not?" I asked. "Tell me something. Were Allison Argent and Scott McCall dating when she was killed?"

Morrell shook her head. "No."

"And look where she is. When she's everything to him, she's alive and kicking. The second she starts to become a secondary part of his life, bam!" I snapped my fingers. "She's dead. Things like that work out for them. Rescuing Derek wasn't hard. Not nearly worth the money I was paid to do it. What you're asking is to be in a place that's almost killed me for being an outsider."

"That's a crock." Morrell said. "And you know it."

"Call it whatever you have to, but I'm not going back."

Her eyes narrowed for a second as she leaned back, but then it settled into that smirk again. She folded her arms as she stared at me, looking at me with her own assessing stare. She was one of the few people who could pull it off, actually assessing me. Most couldn't read me at all.

"You've already felt it haven't you?" She said with a tilt of her head.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, actually, you do." She replied. "I send you after Isaac Lahey, but you have visions of someone else. Just as you're about to leave town you take a job you don't need from a man who tried to kill you, just to come back. Even this time it wasn't difficult to get you to come to a place you claim you won't set foot in. You've felt the pull. You've felt your alpha."

I laughed. "Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know."

"So you're suggesting that my almost being killed here, my visions about a werewolf ascending, and my collecting of funds somehow means that Scott McCall is my alpha? That's a reach even for you."

"I'm not saying he's your alpha one way or the other. Even though he seems like a likely candidate, he's not the only one out there. But your Alpha is in Beacon Hills and I happen to find it funny that you suddenly can't get out of here fast enough around the same time Scott's irises change color."

I took another nonchalant bite of my burger.

"You have the innate need to help the wolves." She went on. "You rescued both Hales and helped them get back Talia Hale's claws. You can pretend that's not what's going on and you can ignore what I'm saying, but it doesn't stop you from knowing I'm right."

"I know you're trying for something that, outside of a couple of coincidences and a very colorful imagination, isn't fact. The Hales needed something. I was there and I did it. I got paid to save Derek, Peter just happened to be there. And you're missing the most important aspect of Scott's pack. Stiles Stilinski."

"What does he have to do with it?"

"He's advising Scott, has been for awhile. Aiding, protecting, serving. How do we know he's not his Emissary."

"That would require him to be a Druid."

"How do you know he isn't?"

"Because a Druid, no matter how unrealized, could never be possessed by a Nogitsune." Morrell said.

I shook my head.

"Maybe this can point you in the right direction."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a manila folder, the kind I saw always when it came to new jobs. She slid it across the table to me and I stopped it with the pads of my fingers. I opened it before I realized what I was doing, another habit, and my eyes roamed over the file twice before I answered the question.

"Who's the Benefactor?"

"Valid question." Morrell said. "And one we don't know the answer to."

From what I was reading, it was one of those underworld, black market, type of deals that dealt in the capture of the supernatural. The only problem was that anytime someone got close to it, they either disappeared or barely missed him. There was no face, no description, nothing other than the title of the Benefactor.

I was about to slide the file back, but she slid another.

This time it was a photograph of a woman, early thirties, in a black leather jacket and a shot gun in her hand. My kind of girl. She was walking down the street, at night, and there was destruction around her from what I could tell. She was staring at the camera out of the corner of her eye with a hard smile on her face.

"Who is she?"

"Another problem." Morrell said. "One that I need you to solve."

I looked back at the picture. "She looks pretty dangerous."

"Nothing you can't handle." She replied.

"And let me guess, both of these problems are heading to Beacon Hills."

"That they are."

I looked at the files and weighed my options. I could stick to what I said and leave, leaving everyone in Beacon Hills to their own problems. It wasn't like they hadn't figured it out before, it wasn't like they wouldn't again. The only responsibility I had was to myself and that was how I liked it.

Or.

I could actually help out someone close to me, someone who probably wouldn't have gone through the trouble that she had to get me here and plead her case. Morrell did a lot of things, but asking for assistance wasn't one of them. If she could handle it, pay it, or get rid of it then she would. The fact that wanted me here meant something.

Shit. "Fine."

She smiled. "So you're coming?"

"Not for free." I told her. "I don't like anyone that much."

"Name your price." She blinked.

"Twenty k." I said.

Morrell nodded. "I thought you'd go higher."

"I'm tempted." I replied, going back to my food. "I need a place to stay."

"Already took of that."

My eyes narrowed. "You played me."

"I did no such thing. If you stuck with your decision then I would've had a nice one bedroom apartment downtown."

I stared at her for a long time before I spoke. "How nice?"

Two men stepped inside the restaurant.

Normally it wouldn't have been a big deal, public place and all, but I'd seen them outside staring at cars. More importantly, I'd seen them both spot Morrell's car and call someone. I put down my fries and kept my eyes solely on them. The taller one was about six feet even with a close cut and a tattoo on his neck. The shorter one was about five ten with shaggier hair and beady eyes. The both of them stuck out, too rugged for this crowd.

The short one pulled out a gun.

"Everybody stays calm and we all walk out of here like nothing happened." He half shouted.

"The money's in the register," The woman behind the counter told him. "No need to be pointing a gun and scaring all these people."

"We'll take your money," he said. "But it's not what we're looking for."

"No what we're looking for is an Emissary!" The taller one screamed the last word. "One we know has ties to the True Alpha."

No one moved.

"And if she doesn't come out," the short one said. "Then we're do more than point it."

Morrell slid out before I could stop her.

I slid to the edge of the booth, but didn't leave it. My hand went to the handle of the blade I kept in the belt loop of my jeans. If I could help it, no one was getting hurt tonight except these assholes. Regardless of that, Morrell wasn't leaving with them. I grabbed the cutting knife my food had come with and kept my eyes fixed on the one with the gun.

"You found me." Morrell said. "I don't suppose this has anything to do with Deucalion?"

"Bigger." The short one said.

"Well that's interesting. And who may I ask is going through this much trouble."

"Come with us and find out."

"Tell me and I'll come with you."

"You don't have a choice."

"There's always a choice." Morrell replied.

He turned the gun on her. "Get over here now."

I moved.

"Morrell down!" I shouted.

When she ducked, the cutting knife flew from my hand and sliced the guy's wrist. He shouted as he dropped the gun and his partner moved forward. I got a running start, launched myself off the edge of the table and punched my fist down on the side of his face. He swung high and I went low, leaning my torso forward quickly and bring my foot over my head to kick him in the face. He shoved me backwards and left hooked me, sending me crashing into a table. I pushed away from the table as he brought his fist down on it, and snap kicked him in the side. I grabbed a plate off the counter and swung it across his face, then broke it over his head.

The other guy tried to run for Morrell.

I grabbed him by the back of his jacket and yanked hard, pulling him back towards me and sending the both of us stumbling backwards to the floor. I kicked out, catching him in the nose, and rolled on my side as the taller guy tried to stomp me. He grabbed me by my hair, nails scratching my scalp and hoisted me off the ground. I pulled out my knife and stabbed.

With a grunt he threw me behind the counter and I landed with a hard thud onto the floor. I sprung from my back onto my feet as he hopped over the counter and stalked towards me.

"Little hellion aren't you." He licked his lips. "I like em feisty."

I held the knife out in front of me. "You'll love me then."

He charged.

I spun on my heel and roundhouse kicked him across the face, using the momentum to slice downward with my knife. The sleeve of his jacket split open along with his skin, earning me a glare. He punched and I hoped backwards, grabbing his arm and swiping again with the knife. His hand wrapped around my wrist and he yanked forward, sending me flying towards him.

His head smashed into mine like a brick wall.

When I stumbled backwards, he kicked me into the wall and backhanded me. The spots in my vision hadn't cleared, but I tried to keep moving. I swung out with my fist, but he avoided it and grabbed me. I brought my knee up into his side, but it didn't faze him the way it should've. He pushed me forwards and rammed his elbow into my back, sending me back to the floor. i could taste blood on my lips as I rolled on my side, pushing backwards against the floor with my feet. I may have been fast, be he operated in heavy blows.

Note to self when I was out of this. Get faster.

"Big talk gets you know where baby." He said as he grabbed my ankle and yanked me across the floor to him. "

A fist collided with his face.

The figure, the man, leapt over the counter and used both feet to slam the taller guy into the wall. I watched him move like lightning, grabbing the man's face and ramming into the wall twice before pulling him backwards and upper cutting him. I got to my feet and blinked hard, clearing the spots as best I could. When I did, the guy looked over his shoulder.

"Derek?"

His eyes met mine. "Help Morrell."

I swung myself over the counter and ran around it, only to find the guy with a gun pointed at Morrell's head.

"Let her go," I warned. "Before it gets ugly."

"It can't get any uglier than your friend's brains all over the floor."

"I thought your boss wanted her."

"If it's her life or mine, I win every time." He said. "Drop the knife."

I let it fall to the floor beside my boot and raised my hands.

"Kick it over."

With the side of my foot I kicked the knife over right beside Morrell's. When I looked up and caught her gaze, I gave her a small wink. She raised her eyebrows.

"You never did tell us your name." I said as I cocked my head. "All this and I don't even know who's ass we're kicking."

"Listen you little bitch," he said as he glared. "If you think for one goddamn second you're going to-"

Three things happened.

The taller guy, the one Derek had taken over for, went flying through the air and through the window behind me. Morrell lifted her foot and slammed her hell down hard on the shoe of the shorter guy holding her. When his grip loosened, she fell out of it and kicked the knife back over to me. Just as he started to point the gun at her, I grabbed the knife by its tip, spun and released, watching it as it flipped through the air.

And plant itself in his chest.

When he fell, Morrell kicked the gun out of his hands and pressed herself against the wall. A hand reached into my line of vision, and I took it, letting Derek help me off the floor and to my feet. When I looked at him he nodded.

"Are you alright?"

I stared at him for a second before I answered. He looked a lot like he had the last time I saw him, face full of stubble and jaw set. His hazelish eyes looking me over, seeing if I was injured anywhere else. His hair was darker than my own and the deep green v-neck he wore was getting it's boundaries pushed with his muscles. He was still as sexy as ever.

I gave him a smile. "Getting there."

His half smile was perfect.

Morrell came up. "Mr. Hale, nice to see you again."

He nodded.

"How did you know we were in trouble?" I asked.

He was about to open his mouth and say something when a plate hit the floor. The both of us turned, fighting stances ready, eyes darting all over the restaurant. The people inside were either under tables or on the floor, but they were all looking at us.

"Maybe we should head back to Beacon Hills first." Morrell said. "You can explain everything there."

She grabbed her purse and opened it, putting a twenty on the counter in front of Davis, telling him to keep the change. Derek and I walked out behind her, stepping into the cool night.

A/N: So yeah the endings always piss me off, but YAAAAAY my first Braeden fic! I'm so excited and I hope you guys will be too. Let me know if you like it.

Read, Review, Be AWESOME.