A/N: Don't own anyone but Brook, the twins, Markus, and any other OC's but a certain Alpha is adamant the first four don't belong to me…..

"You sure you don't need back up?"

Markus finished cleaning his Baretta and placed it neatly in the holster buckled to his torso before responding to Brooklyn's plea. The steel blue traps intensified as he slowly shook his head.

"No Brook I don't. With the media and public being there Gerard won't be stupid enough to try anything."

"It doesn't mean I can't be worried. Gerard isn't one to play by the rules no matter what he proclaims. Of the years I have been 'acquainted' with the Argents, Gerard has played both sides without remorse. It doesn't matter what the collateral damage is so long as the end justify his means."

Brooklyn paced around with Alex who she was trying to get to sleep. The little Hale wasn't going down willingly and challenged his mother by making tiny squeaks which sounded suspiciously like miniature howls. Both had developed some vocal capabilities, specifically creating puppy like squeaks and whimpers. Derek couldn't but help to be elated with this development while Brooklyn could only be the opposite at this point. Though she was thrilled her twins were finding their voices, she bemoaned they decided upon this self searching during the wee hours of the morning, after she had finally found sleep.

"You are not winning this one young man. You need a nap." Markus chuckled as he stood and helped himself to another mug of coffee.

"He's a lot like you were at that age; always refusing to nap."

Brooklyn cast a dirty look at her guardian. "You're not helping Markus."

The sly grin vanished as fast as it had appeared.

"Where is Derek?! He promised to be back soon. He didn't even say where he was going or what he was up to. It's not like him."

Markus placed his weapon on the table and extended his arms up and outward. "Here, let me take him."

"Please do," she passed the squirming infant to her guardian. "He seems to behave for you."

"In case you forgot, pups are always pushing their parents' buttons even in the wild. It's part of their learning experience. It's no different than human children."

He added a knowing smirk but didn't detract his attention from his grandson. While he was only a week and days old, Alex was already acquiring the attributes of his father. Stubborn and determined to do things his way, Alex didn't go down without resistance.

"Take a walk around the property, see if you can find or sense Derek. I imagine he isn't too far off your radar. It would be unlike the Alpha male to trek too far from his territory; especially now with young."

"You sure you'll be okay here alone? I don't trust the Argents; even with the truce in place."

Markus sighed and continued rocking Alex who was gradually quieting down. Laura was close by, dozing comfortably in her bassinet. Neither twin was out of anyone's sight, even within the comfortable confines of their healing home. Tension rippled through all in Beacon Hills, waiting with bated breath to see which side would draw first.

"Chris has always been one to abide by the code. He will honor his word so long as Derek and Scott maintain their accord."

"Doesn't mean another wolf can slip into town, rip up a few hikers or campers and Argent instantly lay blame on them. I don't trust him Markus. He was part of," Brooklyn paused, swallowing the swelling lump that obstructed her throat. 5 years was not enough. The scars would never heal even now with Derek and twins in her life. "He was part of what happened along with Brian and the others."

"No one said Argent was absconded of his sins. None of us are really. We simply absolve our actions but the scars remain on the heart and soul."

"They still have the family ring. I know they do." Brooklyn checked and loaded the clip in her 92S, nodding with contentment that she was sufficiently armed. It was daylight. The sun was their ally while the moon was the wolves'. "I will get that ring back. Even if we have to storm the fort."

Markus was silent but nodded. The ring was one of the few things they had of the family legacy.

"Alright, I'll be back," she leaned over the bassinet, faintly kissing her daughter's forehead. Laura didn't move but her tiny chest lifted then dropped. Brooklyn then showered her son with the same affection, noticing he had lost his little war.

"I know where the bottles are and the warmer is ready to go." The patriarch gave assurance as Brooklyn padded softly for the door.

Fall in Northern California was unlike fall in Phoenix.

The desert sands and blowing winds would be a consistent annoyance but the air would be hot and dry with temperatures peaking in the 80s with a few 90s. The topography of her new home was damp and chilled with leaves carpeting the gradual elevations of land and rock as winter prepared to make her arrival within a month. Brooklyn could only hope she didn't contract bronchitis since it had been a constant in areas that shared similar climates. When she had been a child, bouts of chronic bronchial infections would flare in her lungs and throat, keeping her out of school for no less than two weeks at a time. She had not made or kept friends like her peers succeeded in doing. Never able to play or be far from home because they had moved around so much.

It had always been worse in the British Isles.

The nasty bouts of sleet, ice, and snow in combination with the gales off the North Sea and Atlantic, would bestow no mercy to her body. Brooklyn had wondered how people could exist in such horrid conditions. But she had coped through the worst of the season, making the fireplace her home within their home. Markus had schooled her during their stint overseas, schooling her in every subject with physical education being replaced with weapons training and physical trials during the spring and summer.

That had been in her pre-teen years.

It had been when she turned 14 they moved to Phoenix at the recommendation of a few fellow hunters. They knew of Brooklyn's weakened state and the dry arid air would do good for her taxed psyche.

It had been in high school she met Brady, who would become her hip attachment and brother she never had. Brady wasn't ignorant of the paranormal and supernatural worlds which had surprised her and Markus. The Midwest transplant had fought off skinwalkers and came face to face with the Coyote or Trickster, on a nearby reservation. On what should've been their Senior Prom, Brady and Brooklyn spent it eliminating a vampire nest in Tuscon. Why spend a few hours all dressed up in the pathetic shallow attempt to outshine the Mean Girls when a greater deed was done with the singing of the Kitana?

"Brooklyn!" The hunter froze and lifted her head towards the direction of name being called. Hardened slits greeted Tyhurst as he approached. The hunter slowed his pace, seeing she wasn't pleased by his intrusion. Still, he approached, refusing to let an ugly stare deter him. Weary eyes wandered to the weapon holstered on her hip, keeping calm as the distance between them closed.

"Tyhurst what are you doing here? You realize Derek's gonna be back and he won't be exactly thrilled to see you. No, wait, he'll rip you apart."

"I don't care." The blonde adamantly shook his head. "Gerard's in Beacon Hills. I got word he arrived this morning."

"Great," she rolled her eyes. "He arrived a day sooner than what we thought. Where's he staying at?"

"Argent's."

"Should've known that. Markus is going love this."

"Brooklyn," his hands gripped her shoulders firmly as he spoke. The unseen barrier between them breached. "You need to keep Alex and Laura safe."

"Speaking the obvious Tyhurst," she rebuffed. "But I don't need your protection."

"No you don't understand! It's more than Gerard being in Beacon Hills! It involves Derek!"

"Just-just-just stop right there Tyhurst! Whatever it is you have to say save it because you'll be wasting your breath. Everything you say I will NEVER accept as truth again. If I were you, I'd be putting my tail between my legs and making a very hasty retreat."

She stormed off, leaving a stunned Tyhurst at the edge of the property. But his solitude was temporary.

"What the Hell are you doing here?" Tyhurst smiled to himself.

"And hello to you to Hale." He held his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"Get off my family's land." The Alpha took several steps towards the other. Sea green yielded to hellish rose. "Stay the HELL away from Brooklyn."

"I was just trying to warn her; about you and Gerard."

"What did you tell her?" Molten crimson glared the hunter down but Tyhurst displayed no fear and calmly breathed even as the display intensified to show of canines and claws.

"To watch her back. To be weary of you Hale. She has NO idea what you're really capable of now that you wear the crown."

He rudely pushed by, leaving the boundaries of the Hale property. Derek fought back the urge to rip the man apart; let the wolf out and dole out its fury upon the smug bastard. Shred, maim, butcher, whatever the term it would lead to the same bloody ending.

No; no it wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth bringing the war to his doorstep.

"You know that Tyhurst could be lying." Markus was now busying himself with stocking bullets with wolfsbane and silver. His hand mindfully agitating each round before setting it aside with the growing cluster.

"But why invoke Alex and Laura into this? He knows there's the unspoken creed regarding young."

"With Gerard back in Beacon Hills they are at risk." He stopped and cast a dark glance.

"And mountain ash doesn't repel hunters." Brooklyn felt helpless. Gerard couldn't be stopped by mountain ash or wolfsbane. Only bullets would suffice. And the ones Markus was strengthening with his touch were rather appealing at that moment.

"Whatever it is you're thinking stop it right now."

The elder hunter spotted the tapping fingers on the table but didn't detract his focus from his task. The cool steel rings followed the funnel and fine powdery contents, never letting the latter overflow. Once the deadly combination was settled, a short but tepid tap expelled the air allowing the grains to shift lower. Brooklyn ignored the warning, instead slipping into a trance. Her young, her BABIES had been threatened and that was unnerving to put it bluntly. Threatening her person was of less concern for she could hold a defense that rivaled that of Argent or any other older seasoned hunter. But not Alex and Laura. Pups didn't survive without their parents.

Or the pack.

And right now that very pack was weak and vulnerable to any strike.

Chris Argent stared at the fireplace. The twisted rhythm of the flames was his only out as he waited for Gerard. When the Argent patriarch called two days ago announcing his early arrival, the younger man had grimaced. Gerard was not one to have a definitive gray area where werewolves and other supernatural beings were concerned. To him it was always the same: Black and white. And right now his vision was black. His daughter was dead; murdered the old man claimed. Chris felt a long dormant terror awakening from the recesses of his mind. The last time he had felt it was almost 20 years ago.

"Peter Argent is dead. He was the one who killed Kate."

"What about any others?"

"No, no there no other werewolves aside from Derek Hale."

But it wasn't enough to sate Gerard as he had carried out the inquisition of his son.

"I know Markus is in town along with that no good daughter of his. I know she's been seen with Derek Hale. What is she doing with him?"

"She was looking for the Alpha. You know Markus is never too far behind where she is concerned. It was only a matter of time before he showed up."

"Oh really now? Is that what they told you? And you were foolish enough to happily accept that answer? You damn well know why DeTaurius was there and it wasn't because they were looking for the Alpha."

The lack of sincerity in the old man's tone had darkened his aura. The glass of whiskey grew warm in his hold as it was pressed between his palm and temple but Chris had lost interest in his choice of drink. The funeral was in less than three days but it had felt like an eternity between now and when Peter Hale had delivered his own justice on Kate at the Hale House. She had been reckless and arrogant; seeing the world in black and white. The supernatural was to be hunted, exterminated for there was no place in the world for it. Kate had developed more after Gerard where he had taken more of their mother.

Assumption is the fool's weapon

He never forgot those words. To assume something is as is could cost a hunter their life. It had on more than one instance. It's what kept him and his group breathing.

The echo of the doorbell tugged him from his musings. It wasn't necessary for Victoria to tell him who was out on the doorstep waiting to be let in. Yet, he stayed seated there, on the far side of the couch while the muffled voices materialized to distinct audible individual tones.

"Knew it," he glumly sighed and decided the tepid whiskey was looking rather good at that instant. Taking a hard solid gulp, Chris polished off the contents as the first of their guests found him in the den.

"Chris," a young even voice addressed him from behind. The hunter placed the tumbler on the stand then took his time rising from the comfort of the sofa.

"I'm not surprised you're here Xander." He leisurely twisted around coming face to face with his visitor. Something or rather two someones were missing. "Where are they?"

"Leon's at the hotel gathering our bags and -"

"Stop right there," Chris curled his hands into identical fists. "You said gathering bags."

"Yeah," Xander shrugged with indifference. "Gerard said there is plenty of room here and besides, we need to stick together. This town is infested with those things and they need to be exterminated."

His voice had trailed to a river of hatred with each word. Alexander "Xander" Moran's fathomless hatred for werewolves was well established in the hunting world. Gerard sang verses that rivaled any religious hymn about the eldest Moran brother's prowess which did not go unnoticed by some in the Argent household.

Chris took a deep look at his guest, taking in how little the patriarch had changed. Xander stood at a modest 5'10" but his body compensated for height. Shoulders that carried many burdens both material and emotional were the beginning of a rigid torso that was defined with pecs and powerful back that narrowed into an immaculate V shape. He was slightly bow legged when standing in jeans which seemed to cause the fairer sex to gravitate towards him wherever he went. The well defined jaw and chin was described by some to have been chiseled from granite. Victoria had not been coy in her observations which only made Chris groan or roll his eyes.

On this night he was clad in what Allison called "combat" attire: Navy hoodie under a faded olive green military style jacket. Tactical pants and heavy duty boots complimented the ensemble. The pockets were occupied with a weapon, care item, or other small but useful item that had proven its worth in the heat of battle. His hair still held the close cropped style but it had grown out about a half inch.

But it was the eyes.

Cold empty orbs that died years before leaving behind vacant glass shells.

"Since you are familiar with the layout of the house then you know which room you can stay in." The chilly reception made Xander chuckle lightly.

"Ever the gracious host," the younger man shook his head. "I know you don't like me Chris."

"It's not that," Chris decided it was time for another round. The crystal decanter was half full, a sign of the stress that was an invisible vise. "You're a damn good hunter and I won't argue that. However-"

"However you hold this archaic idea that not all supernatural abominations are out to harm us; that we can somehow coexist with them and hold hands around the campfire while singing Koombaya. Did I get it right?" He leaned on the chair for support, crossing arms over chest. The flow of the fire licked across the handsome features, casting a demonic aura about his mouth and eyes. Chris wanted to be sick but the next dose of Jack quelled that notion.

"Some things never change with you Xander."

Xander pushed off the solid cushion, slow in his footfalls until he was a foot from his counterpart. His lips were distorted into a rage flooded snarl.

"And some things don't change with you either Chris. I noticed you're not exactly mourning your flesh and blood. You know most family members actually grieve when a family member dies."

"Kate crossed a line. She broke the Creed and there is a consequence to that. She shed innocent blood. There were humans in that house the night it burned. Now you tell me how I should be 'grieving' over someone who readily and knowingly murdered children."

Xander's nostrils flared but Chris was not backing down.

"What Peter Hale did was justified. While it was brutal and it cost my sister her life, it was appropriate."

"If only Gerard could hear you now. It sounds as if you're defending those things. What would he think of his son?"

The temperature of the room climbed along with the thickening of the tension simmering between the two men. Chris stared at Xander, taking a drink once every so often. Xander exhaled in a loud huff and crossed his arms back across his chest. Chris had the image of a barnyard rooster materialize in his thoughts. Puffed chest and strutting around like he was hot shit.

"I have the bathroom first!"

The standoff was abruptly halted with the slamming of the door and shuffling of luggage or duffel bags in the main entrance way.

"The Hell you do Bitch!"

Xander blinked and slackened in his posture. The dull thunder of boots announced the arrival of the remaining brothers. The playful shoving and punching continued from the main entrance through the hallway before concluding in the den where Xander and Chris were.

"Birth order rules: Older sibling gets final say and I say dibs on shower!"

"I swear," Xander pinched the bridge of his nose wondering if he wasn't adopted. There was no way he was blood to these two! "HEY!"

Immediately the pair fell in, lining up shoulder to shoulder. Faces dropped from humorous to serious in the blink of an eye.

"Sorry," the youngest drawled sheepishly. "Genius here started it."

"Did not," the other muttered beneath his breath.

"I don't care WHO started it!" Maybe Gerard could hunt with two less hunters...

"Perhaps I should leave you three to settle your differences," Chris clutched his drink tighter in his grip and retreated for the kitchen. He didn't expect Gerard to not arrive without the Moran Brothers. Now all that was missing was the ringmaster to this circus.

"I see that Gerard's entourage has arrived." Victoria Argent noted with a sly smirk. "And from the sounds coming from the den things haven't changed."

"No, no they haven't," Chris finished his drink and placed it in the dishwasher.

"Does Kalin know about-"

"No he doesn't and we will NOT mention such either. Last thing we need is one of them going rogue. We don't need another Kate cluster on our hands; not now, not ever." Victoria was less than thrilled upon hearing of the Hale twins but being hybrids it lessened the shock; a little.

"You think Hale will honor the truce?"

"Yes he will," Chris leaned on the counter's edge, rubbing his eyes with thumb and index finger. "If he inherited any of Talia's leadership abilities, he will. Markus won't let him stray and neither will Brooklyn."

"How can you be so certain Chris? They can't keep tabs on him all the time. He's an Alpha!"

"How many Alphas have we crossed paths with that practiced great restraint and coexisted with humans?" The gotcha look caught Victoria off guard. Yes they had observed wolf packs living alongside humans and did not shed a drop of human blood. "If another attack or death occurs, the consequences will be dire. You damn well know what's at stake for all here."

Victoria simply sighed and walked off, leaving Chris alone in the kitchen. She brushed past Kalin who was crossing through the entrance way.

"Night Victoria," he called over his shoulder and received a similar reciprocation. "She seemed to be in a mood." He turned his attention to Chris and hitched a thumb over his left shoulder.

"The funeral has her going a thousand directions. You know how it is when hunters have to plan a funeral for their own."

"Yeah, I'm sorry," the youngest Moran shook his head in embarrassment. "Where's my head tonight?"

"Considering you drove for 14 hours I would say tired."

"Yeah that too," Kalin yawned then stretched his arms above his head. "Gerard will be here tomorrow. He mentioned tying up some loose ends with the last case."

"Mmm," Chris nodded. "So what was it? Vampires? Werewolves?"

"Rogue bloodsucker. Was terrorizing a town outside of Salt Lake City. Told the local sheriff it was a bear that was responsible for the mauling. He bought it, naturally."

"They always do. It's easier to write things off with something familiar and explainable; palatable for the townsfolk without little question."

Kalin leaned against the counter allowing for Chris to get a better look. He had filled out, no longer the wiry boy who weighed less than his best Claymore. Lean muscle wavered beneath the thin layer of cotton when he shifted his weight. No, he had matured in his own right just as his brothers had. Of course the light brown locks were kept short with spikes along the front in current fashion. The cobalt shirt fitted as a second skin, showing the years of dedication and training that had been instilled in his psyche. His face deceivingly sweet with piercing emeralds that masked the mind of a skillful, resourceful hunter. The impressive hands had been the harbinger of Death but in the following instant deliver mercy or salvation.

The flip side of the coin as Chris would liken their kind.

"So have you heard from-" The light shined hope into his eyes.

"No," the older man gently shook his head. There was no need to incite any conflict. If she wanted to reveal herself to them then that was her prerogative.

"Oh," And the same luster dulled while his shoulders dropped with disappointment. "I suppose I should see if Leon has dragged his lazy ass out of the bathroom." Kalin turned to make his exit, remaining dismayed. Why did he even ask!?

Chris watched until the other was out of sight and went for his phone.

"Derek," Markus hollered as he hiked the ledge that marked the southern boundary of the Hale property. The Alpha was standing tall, scanning the horizon to where Beacon Hills was nestled below. Dusk was rapidly approaching but it made no distortion but did the exact opposite. Derek's vision was greater in dark as was any wolf's.

"Markus," Derek had a slender smile, one of pride along his face. The hunter's brow furrowed at this but said nothing of the observation.

"We have a problem."

Those four words deflated his lips.

A/N 2:The Moran Brothers are not mine but are those of MichaelTheArchangel's. As you can see their arrival is NOT good!

Xander's likeness is based upon Sam Worthington (Avatar)

Leon's likeness is based upon Jeremy Renner

Kalin's likeness is based upon Taylor Kitsch (Battleship, Covenant)