42; Estranged
Two Weeks Ago;
The nose of the gun clinked against the cement floor, sending a cold shiver down the beaten man's back. He wiped the stream of blood from his nose and watched as it spread across the back of his hand. With some effort, he looked back up at the one who'd done this to him.
He was young and his own battered appearance hadn't contributed to empowering him. He was a kid compared to him. And yet, here he was, bruises and cuts and all, smiling- actually smiling as he held a gun to the man's head. He might have thought him sadistic if he weren't involved in the same line of work. You had to be a little heartless to do what they did.
"Come on, why make this harder on yourself? All you have to do is tell me who sent out the list," the young man sighed exasperatingly, but his unsettling grin continued to widen.
"I told you that I don't know-"
The butt of the gun slammed into the center of his face once again igniting a hot, throbbing pressure. He groaned as fresh blood drenched the front of his already bloody shirt. His nose was probably broken.
"I heard you the first three times. Your buddies all said the same thing," he motioned towards the bodies littered across the warehouse floor. Whether they were dead or just unconscious, he really didn't care to know. "But I find it hard to believe that not one of you intelligent men can tell me who provided you all with the list."
"Why do you care so damn much?" The man growled and drops bloody spit landed on the kid's boots. "You could be helping get rid of those abominations."
The younger of the two just stared at the beaten man for several seconds before rolling his eyes. He was quickly becoming annoyed by each word that came out of his mouth. "Save the whole 'cleanse the world' speech for the other narrow-minded barbarians like yourself. Be a little creative for once. Besides, we all know that's not why you just murdered an entire family," he used the butt of the gun to press down on the man's throat, "kids and all."
The older man at least had the decency to look sheepish, but it didn't last very long. "You could be cashing in like the rest of us," he wheezed through his closing windpipe.
The boy released the pressure and the man coughed haphazardly, "now there's the real reason. Chivalry for hunters really is dead."
"Who are you?"
A pleased smile grew on his face, "I thought you'd never ask." He reached into his shirt and revealed a golden pendant hanging around his neck. It seemed to be a simple design, but those knowledgeable enough of the supernatural knew the meaning behind it.
Wide-eyed the man began to struggle again, his legs and arms flailing to be free. "I know who you are!"
"Then you know why I'm here."
The manic movements came to a halt as the man accepted his fate. He huffed and wiped the oozing blood from his face, "people call you the phantom. You come out of nowhere and no one knows who you are or what you look like. Those who get too close to your girl eventually disappear and only the brave risk calling you out of the shadows."
"That's a bit dramatic, wouldn't you say? It's really quite simple, I protect what's mine."
"They're coming for her and there's nothing you can do to stop em', at least not all. You're only one person. It's only a matter of time."
"Tell me who! Tell me!" with fists shaking, he slammed the guy repeatedly to the ground. More blood pooled out from several orifices and he decided the man had had enough. He released him and let his limp body drop, "everyone."
He began to cough and choke and the pupils of his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He didn't offer any aid as the hunter slowly and painfully met his rightfully deserved death. Did he have the wisdom or authority to be handing out such judgements? No, but it hadn't stopped him before.
Briefly, he was caught off guard as a body roughly pushed passed him. He raised his gun before lowering it quickly upon seeing his older brother. Frantically, he checked for a pulse and began compressions. He leaned down to the man's mouth to listen for a breath, but there was none. Had he arrived a minutes earlier, there still would have been nothing he could have done.
After a few minutes of pointless resuscitation, he let his hands fall to his sides and just stared at the dead man's body.
"You killed him," his voice held a tone of utter disbelief as if he couldn't accept what he'd just seen with his own eyes.
Hiding his grimace, the younger brother wiped the blood from his hands on the man's jeans. "I thought I told you to wait in the car."
"You just killed someone! You killed everyone here, Paul."
"He's still alive," the middle Paxton child corrected and pointed to a twitching figure a few feet away. As a rule he always left a few alive, if not who would send his message? Who would warn all the others to keep away?
"You're a killer."
Those words made him freeze in place. It was the first time they had ever been said to him. All the people he'd dealt with were hunters or ravenous creatures neither of which could judge his actions. It didn't help that he was hearing them from his own brother.
"You said you wanted to know everything. This is it," Paul said gesturing to the warehouse now filled with death. "Now either you shut up and do what I say or you go back home and pretend none of this happened."
Joseph's panicked expression settled into a semblance of calm or rather- resignation after a few shaky breaths. Paul rolled his eyes at him and continued with the task at hand. He rummaged through the warehouse for any clues or answers that would help him end his latest problem.
"So this is what you've been doing all these years?"
Paul sighed as he kneeled down in front of the man who'd been alive a few moments ago and rifled through his pockets. There was an underlying judgement to his brother's otherwise flat tone as he watched him work. Joseph was trying to be understanding or indifferent at the very least, but the bitter disapproval and resent he harbored inside was difficult to conceal.
For the last four years, he'd studied to become a doctor. He was about to start his residency. He wanted to save lives. Now standing in this warehouse turned graveyard he felt as if he'd betrayed everything he stood for.
"This is what I've been doing all these years," Paul repeated matter of factly and continued to scour until he found what he was looking for. His brother clearly had expected him to show some remorse or shame, but he received nothing short of apathy.
"Paul, you've killed people!" Joseph shouted, desperately trying to ignite some soul-searching or deep revelation within him.
"And so have they," he motioned to the bodies lying at their feet. "Many, many people. Entire families."
"And you think that makes it okay? Two wrongs doesn't make a right!"
Groaning loudly, he moved over to another body slumped against the wall. "On the contrary, I think it does."
Frowning, he unfolded the slightly crumbled paper from the man's pocket. It wasn't what he was looking for but exactly what he needed to prove a point. The list of names glared up at him dauntingly, a challenge to see how far he was willing to go to do what he was trained for. He adjusted the strap of the rifle so that it hung across his back as he stood up and slapped the paper against his brother's chest.
Joseph stumbled back slightly as he wretched the paper out of Paul's hands. Increasingly annoyed, he read over the names and numbers typed beside them accordingly. "What the hell is this..."
His eyes stopped on one very familiar name. He read it over and over again expecting it to change each time. When it didn't he looked up to see his brother watching him from across the room.
"It's a list of the supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills. Not all, about a third at least by my count," Paul explained as he gathered as many weapons as he could carry from a small but impressive armory cabinet.
Joseph reread his childhood friend's name once more and felt a lump rise in his throat. "Supernatural creatures?"
"Or shall I say a hit list of the supernatural creatures in Beacon Hills," he clarified.
"But Derek's on this list..."
Another eye roll and Paul resumed admiring the collection of sleek knives of all sizes hanging in the cabinet. "Oh c'mon Joey, don't tell me you're actually surprised. Look at the tattoo on your wrist. You got that at one of his family gatherings. You must know what it means."
He did. Alpha, beta, omega.
"You're telling me that my childhood best friend... is a werewolf."
"No," Paul said and Joseph exhaled feeling a weight lift off his chest. "I'm telling you that his entire family is, but as you know they all died in that fire save for a few."
"Does that mean Laura..."
Feeling a sliver of pity, Paul stopped what he was doing. With guns, knives, and all sorts of weapons hanging off of him and tucked into his jeans he approached his brother with apprehension. Joseph was usually the one to go and comfort others and Paul was the one that caused the discomfort in the first place.
Hesitantly, he rested his hand on his brother's shoulder trying to offer what consolation he could. "Listen Joe, after her mom died Laura had to take over and care for those that survived. Someone had just burned her entire family and home to the ground, she did what she thought was best, even if that meant leaving town."
Even if that meant leaving me, Joseph corrected in his head. His jaw clenched as he squeezed his eyes shut trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. He hadn't cried for Laura Hale in years and he wasn't about to start now when it made little difference. "But then she came back and got herself killed."
"It's been taken care of, Joe."
"Did you...?"
The younger brother shook his head with furrowed brows. "That's not the kind of stuff I get involved with."
Which begs the question, what exactly do you get involved with? He wondered. Other than murder.
"Who did it?" He asked suddenly taking Paul by surprise. "Does it matter?"
He smacked Paul's hand off of him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Tell me who the hell did it!"
Mere inches apart, Paul grappled with the idea of kicking his brother's ass down to the ninth level of hell like he'd longed to do for years. Fuming, he peeled Joseph's fingers from his shirt one by one. "Peter Hale."
"Her own uncle killed her?" His voice wavered belying his true astonishment.
"Derek handled it Joey."
"But I've seen him in town. If Derek handled it then why is he still walking around? He should be in jail or-or something!"
Or something, Paul mused. Had he not been condemning him over the immorality of murder a few minutes ago? He didn't try to comfort Joey now, it clearly wouldn't help. "His family, his problem."
"Is that why you're running around killing people. For El?"
"My family, my problem," Paul confirmed.
Joseph sighed and pushed away all thoughts of the Hale family for now. "What does our sister have to do with this list? Her name isn't even on it."
Paul racked the magazine of a rifle and inspected the quality of the scope attached at the top of it. "Yet. There's still two parts of that list that haven't been uncoded and I'll bet she's on one of those. People have been comin after her for years, but the price on her head is just greater incentive."
"What are you going to do?"
With a loud bang that had Joseph ducking for cover, Paul aimed and fired at a practice target taped on the opposite side of the large warehouse. Dust and debris flew in all directions as the bullet hit the very center of the outlined head. "I'm going to do what I do best."
"You're going to kill...more people..." Joseph choked out and for a second Paul thought he might actually faint. In a moment of brief clarity, he understood why their grandad had chosen to train him instead of his brother. Joey was too good. He wasn't capable of compartmentalizing his feelings and morals in order to get things done.
On that note, Paul wasn't sure what exactly that said about himself. He wasn't afraid to get his hands a little dirty, hell at this point they were beyond cleaning. By no means was he the saint his older brother was known to be, but he also wasn't bad, was he?
Just like that the moment of retrospect was gone and a flurry of confusion clouded his mind. Paul found it was better to avoid reflecting on his actions to prevent the inner turmoil it created.
"Let's go. I have other places to go," Paul tossed his brother a bag filled with the various weapons he'd gathered and slung another bag over his shoulder. "What do you mean other places! Are you saying there's more people like these men out there?"
"Joey, there's more people 'like these men' just in Beacon Hills than there clearly are brain cells in your head. Haven't you been listening to anything I've been saying?"
"That's just it, you haven't told me anything yet! All I know is that werewolves exist, our sister can shoot laser beams out of her hands, and people are out there trying to slaughter each other for money!" When he was done ranting, he bent over and placed his hands on his knees in attempt to catch his breath.
Somewhat amused, Paul just shrugged his shoulders. "Sounds like you know pretty much everything to me."
Before Joey could rip him a new one, he silenced his brother with a wave of his hand. "Calm down or that vein in your forehead is going to burst. Look, I was going to show you everything in this warehouse and explain after I'd cleaned up and disposed of the bodies. That's why I told you to wait in the car, but you're not very patient. So really this is your fault. Now let's go."
"My fault..." Joey sputtered in exasperation. He knew Paul was trying to annoy him and while he could usually ignore him, it was proving difficult to maintain his sanity right now let alone his composure.
"Paul, seriously. I need you to start from the beginning. How did you and El get caught up in all of this? Why didn't I know about it? Do mom and dad know?"
The Camaro's loud engine prevented him from asking anymore questions as the two got settled in. It was taking Paul quite a bit of restraint to keep himself from ditching his brother on the side of the road. The two hadn't gotten along since they were children and hadn't spent more than ten minutes in each other's presence before it became intolerable since. "I'm going to explain if you would just shut up and stop bombarding me with questions."
Joey opened his mouth to lash back, but with a instead he frowned and closed it.
"Do you remember the summer after El went to Eichen House?"
The rush of memories was unpleasant but Joey nodded his head, "vividly, but why does that matter? I thought you said you were going to tell me about-"
"That's when this all started for me," Paul continued over him. "Granddad came to the house one day and told mom he wanted to take me back with him for a summer getaway. He said it would give me a new perspective on life and straighten up my behavior."
Joey scoffed and looked out the window. "yeah, I remember that. I begged him to let me go so I wouldn't have to spend an entire summer alone with mom and dad, but he only took you. And when you came back you managed to be an even bigger dick than you already were."
Again Paul went on as if he hadn't heard him, "when I got there, he told me this crazy story about wolves and other creatures of the night. He said there was an entire world out there that few knew intimately about. I thought he was insane, especially when he began telling me about the 'most powerful beings' of them all: the gypsies. Granddad said he was one of them, but that he was getting old now and another in his lineage would rise to take his place soon. I still didn't believe what he was saying, not really, but for a moment I thought he was talking about me."
"But he was talking about El?"
He nodded his head and kept his eyes on the road in front of him as he recalled the night so many years ago. "Our eight year old sister was going to grow up and become one of the strongest people to have existed in Beacon Hills, maybe even in the world. Which meant she was going to be the most sought after too."
"So, he told you all of this so you could protect her. But from who exactly?"
"From everyone," Paul breathed out tiredly. "My second week there we drove back to Beacon Hills in the middle of the night. I thought he was bringing me home but he drove straight to the preserve. He told me not to argue and to be very quiet. I listened because I was scared. We hiked through the forest for what felt like hours in near darkness. Then finally we stopped and he made me climb up into a tree. I didn't understand what we were doing until a few minutes later a group of men entered the clearing below us."
He paused to level his breathing and pacing heart. He hadn't thought about this in years let alone talked about it with anyone. "They all carried big guns and other weapons. They looked like they were hunting. From the back of the group, this man was being dragged by his legs and beaten. I thought he was dead until suddenly he jumped up and tried to make a run for it. An arrow got him right in his chest before he could get very far. He fell and they strung him up in of the trees. I wanted to yell at them to stop. I didn't know what was happening, but it all felt so wrong. Granddad kept me quite as one of the men pulled a sword from a sheath behind his back."
"Paul..." Joey spoke his name softly as he gathered where the story was headed.
"That night I saw someone killed for the first time. He was sliced in two and left there like trash in the middle of the forest. That's when I knew everything granddad told me was true. He said people would try and do the same thing to El and it was going to be my job to make sure that never happened."
He said nothing for several moments and Paul was glad to have gotten it out without having made a big deal of it. He realized he had spoken too soon when his brother began to squirm in his seat.
"Pull over," Joey commanded and the absolute anger in his voice had his younger brother complying without protest. He opened the passenger door as soon as the car came to a near stop and began to yell. "How could he do that to you! You were just a kid! Just fourteen! Why- why didn't he choose me!"
Paul watched unsure of what to do as his brother took out his frustration on anything he could get his hands on. He was yelling as if their granddad could hear him from beyond the grave. "I don't know, I guess you were going to college and you had that scholarship and he didn't want to mess it up," he tried to placate him but it only seemed to spur him on further.
"No wonder you hate me. You had to give up your life for something you should have never been forced into. I should have been the one. I'm the oldest. It should have been me."
"But it wasn't," Paul shrugged, "it was me. There's nothing you can do to change that now."
The rage quickly replaced itself with remorse and sadness, two emotions Paul wasn't equipped to handle, especially from his brother. "I'm sorry-"
"Save the apologies, brother. It was just as much my decision to do it. I could have stopped, but I didn't because El needed me to."
Joey shook his head, "that's just it. You shouldn't have been allowed to make that decision. You were a kid with no idea what you were getting yourself into. I'm sorry that happened."
"Thanks," Paul said out awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck in attempt to avoid the sincere eyes of his brother boring into him. He hadn't expected an apology for something he had no control over.
"I want in." Joey said suddenly and Paul's eyes widened. Clearly his brother was in shock otherwise he wouldn't be saying that. Reading his expression, he repeated himself, " I want in. You're not going to do this alone." Joey exhaled, letting his better judgement slip away for all that he was about to involve himself in. "She's my sister too, so where are we hitting next?"
We, Paul said to himself, and felt a strange feeling settle in his chest. One he hadn't felt for many dark and isolated years. He considered turning his brother down, I work alone, he'd say. "There's a bunker I heard about on the other side of town. There might be another group holding up there."
"Then we better get moving."
The gunfire died down along with the screams and yelling. For someone who'd only ever seen such a scene play out in movies, it was nauseating. After the fourth time, Joseph still couldn't stomach the ignored pleas for mercy and unalleviated suffering. He knew that was a good thing, because no one should become accustomed to such violence and death. As he watched his brother wipe a spray of blood from his face, he knew he couldn't say the same for him.
"Check those computers over there," Paul ordered and Joey quickly sidestepped the bodies laying at his feet. "Make it quick. More are coming."
Joey went through recent text messages, emails, and web history but found nothing relevant. Nothing concerning who was funding the deadpool or where he or she could be found. This has been the case for the last three groups they'd ambushed. No one could say who had sent out the list or who was supplying the money.
I don't know, they'd all cry with Paul pointing a gun in their face. Please don't kill me, they'd beg even though they hadn't extended that same mercy to the names they'd crossed off the list.
"Nothing here," he called over his shoulder and heard Paul curse. Two weeks had gone by and they'd gotten no closer to discovering who the Benefactor was. That's all they had. Just an alias uttered nervously by an assassin that Paul had decided to let live. But both brothers knew their time was running out, the last two groups they'd encountered had the second part of the deadpool with a fresh new set of names. It was only a slight relief to see their sisters was yet to be on it. It meant there was still time until all trained killers rained down upon Eleanor Paxton, but it wouldn't be long. "Wait," Joey backtracked as he clicked on the disk symbol on the desktop indicating there was one inside the computer.
A window popped up but rather than display images a robotic voice that was neither discernibly male or female began reading off names and corresponding numbers. Names they'd yet to hear or see on the previous two lists.
From across the room where he was crouched looking through an unconscious man's bag, Paul tensed.
"Satomi Ito 10, Malia Hale 4, Liam Dunbar 3..." the voice spoke without any emotion yet the dread that consumed him was unmistakable. All three names he recognized: his granddad's former alpha, the werecoyote, and Scott's beta. Though he hadn't been around the teenage pack for weeks, he kept himself informed of their status. In truth Scott McCall was the only reason he allowed himself to be away from El for so long. He'd protect her, even if he hadn't threatened to shoot him if he didn't.
The names continued and he held in his breath as it got closer to the end of the track. "...Lorelee Rohr 250, Britanni Kegley 250. Eleanor Rose Paxton 40."
As if he'd been punched in the gut, Paul felt winded and fell back. He caught himself quickly and steadied himself as his mind worked a hundred miles a minute to figure out what to do next. Forty million dollars. That was more money than the last two lists combined. "Paul, what do we do?" His brother asked him, sounding just as panicked as he felt. "We can't keep searching like this! We haven't found anything that'll help stop this!"
"Give me a second," he rasped and began to gather his bearings. His next decision needed precision rather than impulsivity. Everything he did affected El, and he wouldn't let years of his life devoted to keeping her alive go down the drain.
"We need do get out of her now. We have to do something else! This isn't working!"
"I said to give me a damn second!" Paul roared over him and Joey fell quiet.
The oldest Paxton had been relatively collected over the past two weeks considering the circumstances but the stakes were high and it was all so difficult to grasp in a small amount of time. Paul understood, but he also didn't have time to coddle his brother and hold his hand each step of the way. Thankfully, he hadn't been a hindrance the entire time, and though he hated to admit it— Joey had been helpful.
"You're right," Paul conceded once he'd calmed himself, "we don't have any more time to try and find the benefactor. We can let Scott continue looking, our next move is to keep everyone who's looking to cash in away from El. Every trained assassin, killer, or loser in need of some money is going to be after her, so we need to be there to make sure they don't get close."
Joseph nodded his agreement. "She's going to be mad when she sees us. Neither of us have spoken to her..."
His guilt had been circulating in his system from the moment he'd walked away from her and from every unanswered call since. But he'd been so angry and hurt, how could she have not trusted him? He'd also been afraid. Afraid of the reality in which werewolves and monsters with armor made of bone existed.
Joey was ashamed to admit that for a moment he'd been afraid of her too, but now he could see how foolish he'd been. El could sprout fangs and claws and shoot purple beams of blinding light from her palms, but she'd still be his sister. She'd always be the little pig-tailed girl who wore his jersey to his lacrosse games and taught him what it meant to love someone. He never thought he'd have to protect her from himself too, but he would make up for it and that was a promise.
"We all know how much I've hurt her and yet she still somehow forgives me," Paul shook his head. "She loves you more than she ever could me, she'll get over it."
There was a pain Paul inflicted upon himself at his own words that maybe he wasn't even aware of, but Joey could see it in his eyes. Before he could object, he felt a cool metal press against his temple. "Should have known it was the brothers all along guarding the gypsy," the man chided as Paul raised the gun in his hand to fire.
"Not so fast," the man said and wrapped his arm wrapped around Joey's neck with the barrel of the gun still pressed to his head. In this position, Paul had no clear shot. "Are you the one they call the phantom?" He pressed the gun harder into his skin and Joey flinched.
That seemed to be answer enough as he turned his eyes back on Paul. "No, this one's too weak. Must be you then. The ghost that comes out of the shadows. I had my suspicions but you're good at covering your tracks. Does it make your momma proud how you pretend do be a good-for-nothing drunk of a son? Does she know that you're actually a killer?"
Paul appeared unaffected by his words. If anything he looked bored by the situation. "Enough with the chit chat. Let my brother go and I'll consider making your death short and sweet."
"You're not in the position to be making threats boy. You just murdered my entire team."
"A necessary evil I assure you," Paul replied with a smile that was more suited for receiving a compliment. "Now don't make me tell you again."
"How about I just shoot this weakling in the head and-"
Before he could finish his sentence, Joey thrust his elbow back into his ribs and pulled himself out of the headlock. A single shot went off and it lodged into the cement wall mere inches away from Paul's head. Joey's ears rang from the blast so close to him, but the adrenaline forced him past the discomfort as his fists landed several punches to the man's face. Breathing hard, he gave one last hit for good measure as the man dropped to the ground.
Joey kicked away the gun and turned to face his brother. Paul's eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape from surprise at all that had just occurred in less than two minutes.
"I may not be okay with killing people, but that doesn't make me weak."
"Noted," Paul muttered and snapped himself out of his shock. He should have known Joey would be able to hold his own. The years of boxing and martial arts lessons since he was ten hadn't been entirely useless.
"I know I said we should get back to El but there's still one stop I want to make first. Something I should have done a long time ago."
"What?" Joey asked as they jogged back to the Camaro, arms full of more weapons they'd taken from the bunker.
"You drive," Paul tossed him the keys as he got into the passenger seat and took out a piece of paper and envelope from the glove compartment.
Eleanor Paxton 40, he wrote down on the paper before sealing it inside the envelope. He wrote his sister's name on the outside and nothing more, knowing she'd understand it's contents meaning. The sun was setting as they came to a stop a few houses down from the house they'd grown up in. No cars were in the driveway as Paul exited and quickly dropped the envelope into the mailbox before returning to his car. "Shouldn't we tell her we're back?" Joey asked with a frown.
"Not yet. She needs to stay focused on staying alive instead of worrying about us."
Joseph wasn't convinced but didn't argue as he followed his brothers vague directions to their next destination. "Where are we?"
Paul didn't respond as the two began to trek into the Beacon Hills Preserve. Joey followed him along the seemingly random path into the woods until they entered a small and secluded clearing. "You haven't brought me here to kill me, have you? Because for a moment there I thought we were actually starting to get along."
Paul scoffed but smiled as he knelt down and began brushing away dirt, grass, and leaves from the ground. "Don't tempt me brother."
From underneath the foliage a small column appeared from the ground made of a purple rock that Joey assumed to be amethyst. Paul reached inside his shirt and pulled out the charm hanging from the chain, but it wasn't merely a necklace. It was a key.
He placed the symbol into the groves on top of the column and it fit perfectly. "This belonged to granddad. He gave it to me before he died and said I would know when to use it."
"What is it?"
The column began to move, twisting and rotating itself in the ground until it formed the shape of the symbol. It clicked into place and the two brothers were forced to cover their eyes as a light so intense emanated from it. A violet beam lit up the darkening woods and shot up into the sky until it breached the clouds and could no longer be seen. It pulsed and radiated for only a minute until the column called back the light and transformed itself back they way they'd found it.
Paul removed the key and placed it back over his head and tucked it into his shirt once more. "It's a signal or a call more like it."
"To who exactly?"
"To the others. The other gypsies."
[Author's Note]
So this is honestly my favorite chapter I've written in such a long time. I hope you all enjoyed a closer look into Paul's backstory and his relationship with Joey.