A/N.
Major character death. The story will continue in Ace's POV. I hate to kill him but in my stories he just seems to want to die, can't help it. Everything you believed about Derek, forget it. He's not the kind of person he pretended to be.

Chapter twenty-four.
"My brother have we not suffered enough?"

We are everything, we pretend we are
So we got to be careful what we
pretend to be. –Kurt Vonnegut.

Derek POV.

"Are you sure it's them?" he asked while raising his eyebrows.

He couldn't believe what the vet told him. He refused to believe that the kid he had once grown up with came from one of the most feared packs in the world. Or more like it used to be feared. Rumors had had it that some hunters and werewolves had gotten together a group, found the pack and killed every single member that they had been able to find.

Apparently they hadn't found all.

He shook his head and looked back up at Deaton.

"I'm sure. At first I didn't recognize the ink on his right arm but when I treated him for the wolf bane and had time to really look at it, I remembered… you know what we have to do Derek. We don't know if there's only Scott, Alexander and Peter left. Our best hope if that Isobel was killed too." The vet finished and left the loft.

He sat down on a chair and groaned into his hands. There were only so many things a man could take on such a short amount of time.

Isobel POV.

She didn't know how long they had been sitting there, only that it had been too long and they needed to move before somebody that knew who they were, perhaps the vet, came back.

She shook her head fondly when her eyes landed on the trio. Scott was on his back on the metal table, a cover laid over him. Alexander had his head in the younger wolfs lap, fast asleep. Isaac on the other hand, was not asleep. He sat a little distance from the table, his eyes never leaving the two other wolves. He finally seemed to realized that she was looking at him and met her glance before his eyes again looked at the two brothers'.

"When they were small no one could say no to them," she started and smiled a little

"Not even Peter. All they had to do was ask and he would give them it. He would have given them the world if they asked for it…so would I."

The young beta didn't look at her as he answered, "I hated him for what he did, for all the bad things he had done to the people around him…only to realize that we're the ones that was the problem. That we were the ones that caused the switch inside him to switch. I hated everything he stood for and now I can't find an ounce of hate for him, even when it's the same man. Not when he starred at his body like his entire world had just ended. I couldn't hate him then and I can't hate him now."

She flinched because when everything came to, her son had still been dead.

She flexed her fingers and spoke a final time. "Look out for where you're stepping and don't stay here for too long, they might return." She looked one last time at the three people before slamming the door closed behind her.

Alexander POV.

He huffed but didn't pay it any mind. Their mother wasn't cuddling them, she might do later but now when her family was in danger, cuddling them was the last thing on her mind.

He finally pushed himself away from Scott and tried to blink the sleep from his eyes before looking at Isaac who sat red eyed and starred into nothing. He felt a pang in his chest and thought about what to do with the younger wolf.

He could send him away; it would be easier and less chance of being discovered. The downfall was that he and Scott would be away from each other and he wasn't sure how much more strain their mating bond could take before it broke for good.

He was just about to say something when he heard it. It was just a subtle clicking but now that he focused on it, it was so much louder. His head snapped up and he strained to locate the sound because whatever it was it couldn't be good.

"It's a bomb," a small voice behind him whispered and his head snapped around to look at Isaac. The poor beta now sat pale up against the far wall, his eyes not once leaving Scott's silent form.

"What."

"They are parked at the entrance and exit, there's no way out." The beta continued and slowly blinked and looked up with sad puppy eyes, breaking Alexander's heart.

"He's not here anymore, not really. I can't feel him in the same way that I could before. Go get what you came here for Alexander. We meet again at some point."

He starred at them and scented the air, noting the increasing scent of pain and grief, Scott's barely moving chest and a door that he knew led down to the basement. He would be stuck, no doubt but he would still be alive.

"We're done running Ace," he heard the young beta whisper and he shot him a pleading glance before he bowed down to kiss his brother good bye.

"Goodbye brother," he whispered and closed his eyes against the tears that had been rolling since Isaac had opened his mouth. He wanted to hate the teen, god how he wanted but he couldn't, because in the end Isaac loved Scott in another way than Alexander did and it wouldn't be fair to keep one and throw the other out.

He walked to the doorway and paused, looking back he saw that Isaac had moved to lay beside Scott on the small meatal table and he choked back a sob and ran down the basement, just in time for his entire world to shatter.

Isaac POV.

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow—
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me—
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met—
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears."
― George Gordon Byron, Poetical Works

A/N.
Alright. Do you want me to continue in another story or to simply do it in this?
Reviews are as always more than welcome.