Nothing Personal

Over the course of the week:

"Mucho siento, mi tío, porque…" (I'm so sorry, Uncle, because...) Tabitha wiped her watery eyes with her sleeve, nudging her cell phone. "Mi hermano mejor…su sobrino… Todd…el… es muerto." (My older brother, your nephew, Todd…he…is dead.)

She heard her uncle gasp on the other side of the line before bursting out incoherently, unable to complete a sentence. "¿Por qué?" Victor demanded. "¿Cómo? ¿Lo que paso?" (Why? How? What happened?)

"No se," (I don't know.) Tabitha choked out, a fresh lining of tears threatening to spill from her already agitated eyes. "La policía está investigando. Todd fue asesinado hace algunas horas. Alguien entró en la casa de mi mamá y los atacaron." (The police are investigating. Todd was murdered a few hours ago. Someone broke in and attacked my mom and killed my brother.)

"¿Fue un robo? ¿Quién lo hizo?" (Was it a robbery? Who did it?) Even thousands of miles apart, she could hear the anger vibrant in Victor's gruff voice.

"No se," (I don't know.) Tabitha repeated again. She glanced over her shoulder towards her brothers who discussed among themselves. Her father had yet to join them as he was isolated himself down the corridors to spread the news to his side of the family. Tom had offered to do it for him but Richard insisted it was too delicate of a situation. She further separated herself from the group to confide in her uncle.

"Pero, sé quién lo hizo y yo lo maté," (But I know who did it and I killed him.) she whispered in the dark corner, covering a hand over her mouth so no witnesses could read her lips. "Pero yo necesito tú estará aquí. Nosotros su apoya. Hay gente que me hizo daño, las mismas personas que lastiman a mi madre y mataron a mi hermano. Ayudarme, por favor." (But I need you to be here. We need your support. There are people who are out to hurt me, the same people who hurt my mom and killed my brother. Help me, please.)

"Claro," Victor immediately replied. His voice was alert and concerned with an edge. "¿Pero…por qué y qué?"

"Te diré más tarde. Es demasiado que explicar." (I will tell you later. It's too much to explain.)

"Kay. Voy a volar esta noche. Yo estaré allí por la mañana. ¿Me puedes recoger en el aeropuerto?" (Okay. I will fly out tonight. I will be there in the morning. Can you pick me up at the airport?)

"¡Sí! ¿Cuándo estará aquí?" (Yes. When will you be here?)

"A las siete de la mañana." (6 in the morning)

She hung up the phone and slid it back into her pocket, acknowledging the move she just made. She could've withheld the information for Victor, taken the responsibility of justice into her own hands, but she told him and now that she fired that shot, a battle would ensure. She shook her head dismayed. She knew the Argents were screwed now. She had threatened them and now that they had made their move –a stupid move –they were going to pay the deadly consequences.

She realized though this would interfere with Madison's plans but her anger had blinded her conscience and she didn't think much of it as she pictured what Victor would inflict upon the individual who dared to call the hit. This wasn't just Madison's problem anymore. The Argents had messed with the wrong family. She smirked. Oh yes, justice would most certainly be delivered.

Behind the protection of their stone walls, Chris and Victoria paced nervously, frustrated and anxious as they stared at their guest sitting smugly on their couch. Victoria shook in her heels as she contemplated their next move. Usually she was confident but her daughter's

"Gerard," Chris sneered behind clenched teeth, "weren't you thinking at all? Didn't you remember our little talk?"

"She's just a little girl," the old man excused, grinning. He leaned forward and stared at his son. "What can she do to us?"

Chris gaped at him. "It's not just her, Gerard. It's her family, her extended family. I did my research! She wasn't joking when she said she connections that could kill us all. She has roots in Venezuela and Columbia, Columbia Gerard! The Cartel Capitol of the world! She has very dangerous connections. They are experienced killers. They are effective, efficient, and quick." Chris pressed, seething as his voice rose in volume, enough for his voice to echo into the foyer where Allison rested on the steps. She cringed. "We don't know if she keeps in contact with them but I didn't want to take that risk. Do you know what you could've started? This isn't our territory. They aren't werewolves, Gerard," Chris bellowed. Victoria jumped at the volume as did Allison who started up the stairs, frightened. "They are killers, good ones, too. The police can't get them and don't forget!" Chris continued, waving his hands in the air. "Richard? Yeah, she wasn't lying when she said the General had friends in high places. I checked them out as quietly as I could. He knows five judges," he demonstrated, extending his palms to display all five of his fingers. He shoved his hand towards Gerard face but didn't make contact. "All of them in the districts around us as well as the one we're in, oh also, in the state supreme court, too!" Chris ranted. Gerard rolled his eyes.

"With that and his family, we are utterly screwed. We are as vulnerable as lambs!" Chris concluded, slamming his hand on the table. Victoria sniffled.

"I was in Vietnam, too," Gerard calmly replied. "I can talk to him. We have common ground."

"No," Chris ordered. "We're already too close as it is. We don't want to overstep it. They are mad and grieving and upset. If we push them, just even for an inch, we may lose everything. We don't know how far they'll take it but I don't want to take it that far. Leave them alone Gerard, give them space." Chris pointed at her elderly father. "And I can guess Tabitha only suspects us. We don't know if she confided in her father and we better pray she hasn't or all Hell will break lose. If you go there, you could possibly tip him off about us and then for sure we're good as dead."

"Relax, Chris," Gerard waved off, "I don't think she wants to risk losing another brother."

Chris's face reddened. "And I don't want to lose my only daughter!"

"We can protect Allison just fine," Gerard insisted.

"Not from all sides! Did you not remember how my office was broken into a few days ago? Someone wants us to know that they are dangerously close and I'm rethinking my stance on the offensive. If we can't defend our own home, how the hell are we supposed to protect Allison? Now, we got the God-damn Cartel on our asses? One of them will be our demise no thanks to you!"

"Hold off anymore assaults until we sort this matter out," Chris demanded. "Contemplate the cons of the situation before you blast another bullet."

"We still haven't heard from Charlie," Victoria intercepted, eyeing Gerard. Gerard tensed.

"It's been hours since you sent him on that mission. I guarantee you we won't find him alive." Chris explained, accusing Gerard with cold eyes.

"Who would've gotten to him, the girl?" Gerard laughed, amused. "I don't think she can take him down. She's just an infant after all."

"An 'infant' with a colt revolver with reflexes faster than Jesse James'. She pressed it to my throat, Gerard. She isn't scared to use it." Chris said, recalling the cold, fearless look in her eyes, one he subconsciously mimicked in his own icy orbs, "especially on someone who killed her brother."

"We have yet to be delivered a mangled corpse on your porch," Gerard argued.

"It'll be just a matter of time," Chris insisted. "You don't know who you're dealing with. I do. Next time you plan to do something, consult with me. I will not have my family endangered because of your foolish actions."

Chris exited the room angrily as he headed to his daughter's room, anxious to make sure she was still safe and sound in her bed. Victoria followed him hesitantly but bid Gerard a torn look, unable to decide which cause of action she wanted to follow. She didn't like sitting around waiting but at the same time, didn't feel confident following through and attacking an enemy a second time, unprepared for the deadly repercussions. She wasn't aware a series of events had been set in place after Tabitha had made that fateful call.

Gerard had most definitely made a foolish mistake and would not comprehend the severity of the consequences until it was too late.

"Chris," Gerard called out again, hearing his footsteps descend the stairs, "come inside."

Chris hesitantly walked inside the dim lit room, warmed by the blazing fire next to him as he kept his distance from Gerard. "What," Chris demanded.

"Did you find what file had been taken?"

Chris shook his head. "There were too many. I don't know what they were looking for," he replied. The thought shook him up as he wondered what he was missing. If only he could find the folder, he'd most likely understand where this new enemy came from and what they wanted but that was too easy. Nothing came easy anymore.

"Did you look at the files that were incomplete?" Gerard received an odd look from Chris. "You know," he exclaimed, "the ones with loose ends, survivors, relatives?" He elaborated. Chris shook his head. "I did but nothing came up."

"And the rest…?" Gerard questioned.

"Have no relevance," Chris defended. "Everybody involved are dead, including the hunters."

"Except for you," Gerard hinted.

"Excuse me?" Chris demanded.

"I've been thinking," the old man said, holding his hands over his lap as he leaned forward, looking intently at the fire, hit with a distant memory. "It seemed, as soon as you moved here, things have been…rattled, risen. First the Hale fire and Peter," Gerard nodded along as he expressed his mental train of thought. "There was another fire. One Kate had set, with your help."

Chris's brows knotted together, remembering that small incident. "Sloane Dubolazov," he thought out loud, picturing the pale man with icy eyes. He nodded at Gerald. "Yes, I recall that. Are you saying…that it's connected?" Gerard nodded. "No way," Chris denied. "Everyone who was involved died a long time ago. Kate is dead. Martin Klein, the man who helped us cover it up is dead. Sloane and Aubrey are dead. There are no other witnesses."

"I'm not saying they are directly involved but maybe this individual was looking at it, for leverage or information?"

Chris shook his head again. "I don't know why they would. It's been closed for a long time."

Gerard motioned with a single nod towards Chris's office. "Just look at it. See if it's there." Chris complied and grudgingly moved from his position and moved towards the pair of French Doors where he unlocked the bottom drawer and searched in the 'D' category and to his astonishment, the folder was in fact missing. His brows lifted to his hairline and he shot Gerard a confused look.

"What could they want with the Dubolazov family?" Chris skeptically asked, returning to the living room.

"Tell me, what else did you know about the family?" Gerard asked.

Chris shrugged. "All that Kate had told me."

"And what did Kate tell you?"

"That Sloane had savagely murdered a man –a Hunter actually –and that we needed to retaliate." Chris vaguely replied, holding some truth back. Gerard caught this and glared at his son. Silently with his scrutinizing eyes, he demanded Chris release more information. Chris sighed heavily before continuing. "We heard rumors from neighbors he had a daughter but the autopsy report only pinpointed two bodies. We know from the extent of the fire, any living body inside would not have made it so even if he had a daughter, she wouldn't have survived."

"There's more," Gerard broke in. "Your sister was hiding something very important from you."

"What?" Chris asked, curiously.

Gerard was hesitant to release the news but with Kate dead, he knew his oath of secrecy had expired and someone needed to know other than him.

"Kate and Sloane were in a relationship, just like she and Derek had, except it was a bit more…personal." Gerard introduced. Chris's eyebrows nodded. Gerard felt bitter as he continued to spill the sour secret. "She had gotten pregnant."

Chris reeled back, stunned and in disbelief. "How did I not know this? I was her brother!" He shouted, angry. "It can't be true. I would've known. I would've seen it. How could I miss Kate and her stomach?" He accused, deeply in denial. Gerard coaxed his son to sit down.

"She alienated herself from the family, indecisive on how to approach her new responsibility. She was torn from being a mother or being a hunter. No doubt would this child be just like her father, a werewolf, and she had no idea how she could raise it without questioning her ties to this family or her cause."

"Did she abort it?" Chris asked as that seemed like the only plausible explanation for him not noticing it.

Gerard shook his head. "Remember when she went on her trip to Europe?"

Chris narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. He remembered when Kate had said she wanted to visit her roots, touring France and maybe visit Germany, too, as she was curious about the history over there, too. "Yeah, she was gone for about seven months," Chris deemed. The dots seemed to connect but he was still in disbelief. She hid her pregnancy there, he figured, but how come she didn't come home with her baby.

"Nine," Gerard corrected him. "She gave birth in Narbonne, France, to a healthy baby girl."

"What happened to her, the baby I mean?" Chris asked.

Gerard. "She left immediately and left the baby with some friends she made there. She returned here to visit Sloane. They had cut it off shortly before she left for Europe. She came to tell him about the news of their baby."

"Why didn't she bring her with?" Chris demanded. He was confused on why Kate would leave her behind.

"I don't think she intended to keep it. It was too much of a conflict and also because she was unprepared to care for a child, let alone one that came from a damned beginning. It was better off in Narbonne. She still wanted him to know though." Gerard face darkened. "Imagine her surprise when his wife opens the door with a five month infant in her arms. Kate was absolutely devastated and furious at the same time but she kept her true feelings hidden until she isolated herself with Sloane. He said she –Kate –was just a distraction from the stress of parenthood but now that he had his daughter whose name escapes my mind, he was dedicated to his family. It was then Kate realized how much she wanted her family herself and how unfair it was to her that she had a daughter who wouldn't have either parents present. She felt betrayed and angry, like she should've felt. None of it was her fault."

"She didn't tell me any of that," Chris mused, troubled and numb.

"She didn't tell me any of it either until weeks before the fire. She had come across him and maybe it was due to the depressing date –her daughter's birthday –and she was missing it, but she felt so angry. A swarm of emotions overwhelmed her as she saw Sloane carry his toddler around the grocery store, laughing and caressing the girl tenderly. She was betrayed he couldn't be that affectionate with his second daughter –the one he refused to acknowledge. It was then she set up a plot to even the score. She fooled you into thinking he did something different, something you'd agree with that deserved punishment without giving away the truth."

All Chris could do was nod solemnly. "Wait, did she tell him he had a daughter?" Chris had missed that detail.

"No," Gerard explained. "He just rejected her, explaining he was devoted to his family, blatantly clear that he had no interest in leaving his family for her, and in her mind, translated into the fact he would not replace his wife for her and he most definitely wouldn't volunteer to support his side family. Because, you see, she didn't want to share her daughter. She wouldn't allow that. She wanted a family of her own, not one that was shared. So if he wouldn't have her, he wouldn't have his daughter either. She left before her heart suffered anymore blow and took the truth about their illegitimate child with her. Sloane had no idea he had a second daughter."

Chris, trying to avoid the harsh truth he had help destroy a family out of Kate's spite, focused on her lost child. "What about her daughter? What happened to her? Did she even get a name?"

"The daughter stayed in France with the Barclay family. They had adopted her as their own with Kate's permission, as she had sent over the papers to them. They gave her the official name Lucille –Lucy for short –and she's been living there ever since."

"And you haven't visited her?" Chris demanded incredulously. He had a niece out there, an extension of blood, that –even with a different surname and maybe not legitimate origins –he still considered family.

Gerard didn't feel the same, as told from his grim and bitter expression. "No. Its better off she doesn't know we exist. She is not our problem."

Chris gaped. How could Lucille be considered a 'problem,' as Gerard had put it sourly? How could be so detached to his only other grandchild? He clenched his teeth.

"Did Kate ever see her again?"

"No," Gerard replied. "She had only seen her once and that was in she came out of her womb. She didn't want to torment herself with that abomination."

Chris glared at Gerard. "Lucille was –Is–her daughter, your granddaughter. How can you consider her an abomination?"

The very statement upset the aged man as he abruptly sat up to stare Chris in the eye. His dull brown orbs challenged his younger legacy as he spat back. "Her father was a lying piece of scum and an abomination himself. Kate should not have conceived such a creation. It is better that child is not here and not in our lives. She would've torn us apart and we would've been forced to kill her. That's what we do. The only reason she is alive is because Kate had her sheltered halfway around the world, deep in the mountain tops of France."

"Doesn't she have a right to know who her family is?"

Gerard bit back a retort as he refocused to detour the direction of the conversation. "I think she's trying." Chris stared at him suspiciously. "She's old enough to be on her own, around Allison's age, and I'm sure she inherited her mother's wit. She could've come here to investigate her origins, figured out what we are, realized how much of a threat we are, and skedaddled off before we caught her. There's one plausible explanation. She probably wanted to learn who her father was. I don't know how but she got an idea from someone."

"Maybe her adoptive parents told her about her birth mother and maybe Kate had confided in them about her father so they told her that, too, and then she comes here to investigate?" Chris played around with the idea.

"Maybe," Gerard nodded his head.

"So she isn't much of a threat then," Chris hoped. He was actually positive about meeting his niece but from Gerard's grave expression, his father didn't share the same sentiments.

"No she isn't. She's just an embarrassment to this family and needs to go back to where she came from. She has a family all ready, whether their blood related or not. They accept her for what she is. We won't."

"Gerard, she's your granddaughter," Chris tried to push.

"Allison is my only granddaughter!" Gerard denied, pointing his finger. "She's the only flesh and blood that is legitimate and loyal. Allison is of Argent, not of a Barclay or of a Dubolazov, but of Argent, through-and-through." Gerard crossed his hands to demonstrate the motion. "Allison is a perfect product of two strong bloodlines, between a human and a hunter. She is not tainted by the mutation of our enemy. We cannot accept that traitor Lucille into this family!"

Chris, appalled by Gerard's animosity, simply gaped, at a loss of words, and somehow found him nodding, pretending to accept and understand his father's notion just to ease the aged man's frustration. It seemed to work as Gerard sighed and began to smile.

"Now that we got this covered, I think you can relax," Gerard stated, nodding towards the archway. "Go to bed, Chris, you need the rest."

As Chris trotted up the stairs, Gerard stayed behind and relaxed on the couch, staring into the fire. He was reminded of that bastard of a man Sloane and his clueless wife and their daughter. Although he was disappointed by Kate's actions –killing a child simply out spite because her father wouldn't accept her own bastard of a child –he supported Kate. She was hurting and he watched from afar, unable to pull himself to comfort her when she complied of heart pains.

Even if she did the right thing, leaving that child behind, he frowned upon her fondness of it over the vast distance. He noticed how she dedicated herself to Allison when she was born –four or so months after Lucille's birth –to substitute the void in her heart but even then, he knew it wasn't the same as holding her own child. In fact, cradling Allison only tormented her when she returned to her own bed, feeling empty and guilty that she couldn't cradle her own child.

He was disgruntled at the thought. It just wasn't the same for Kate. Allison, physically, looked nothing a like to Lucille. As her name stated, Lucille had adopted her parents' light hair, but specifically Kate's, as she inherited a twinge of dark gold instead of her father's almost white shade. Her eyes were most definitely her father's but not as cold or icy. Instead, framed within long lashes, were wide and almost sky blue in comparison to her evenly paler complexion. Her hair curled, too.

Gerard could remember all these details as he retrieved a small, chipped photo from his pocket, staring down at it indifferently. It was the only photo Kate had carried, not wanting to torment her by asking for more of Lucille growing up. She already felt guilty as it was being an absent mother (not that Johanna wasn't doing a good job.)

In fact, Johanna was doing a wonderful job. It was a win-win situation, as Johanna had received news from her doctor that she would no longer have children due to her last pregnancy's complication. (Jermaine was a late baby who was far too big for Johanna's petite figure.) When Kate came along, she noticed Johanna's fondness of her children and when Johanna confided in Kate that she yearned for more, Kate had realized this was the perfect opportunity.

The look on Johanna's face said everything, her big doe brown eyes sparkling in delight, her small mouth forming a lovely and genuine smile as she cooed her new daughter. Lucille would be her second daughter among her four growing boys. Lucille and her sister –Florence, or fondly called "Fleur," –got along great. The two grew to be inseparable.

Kate knew this and as much as it cleared her conscience, it didn't mend the void in her heart. She had carried the photo with her all the plane back, the one taken hours after birth by Johanna's husband as a keepsake for Kate.

"Who's she?" Allison asked from behind, startling Gerard.

He scrambled for words before sliding the photo back into his pocket.

"Just someone," he absently waved off. "Go to bed Allison, it's late and you have school tomorrow."

The truth was Allison couldn't sleep. Scott had told her what had happened to Tabitha and she knew somehow her family was behind it. It shook her. She was scared of Tabitha and what she would do to retaliate.

"Grandpa," Allison meekly said as they made their way up the short staircase, "will Tabitha hurt me?" She stood close to Gerard's side.

"Not with us around," Gerard assured, "she won't be able to lay a finger on you, honey." He patted her back and led her to her room where he kissed her good night on the forehead.

Allison felt secure with her family around. With such an attack in the midst, everyone was extra defensive and she felt that she would be protected. As she lay in bed, she fingered the tip of her arrow in her sweaty palm, imagining it piercing the Venezuelan's heart. Her face shaped to fit her serious thoughts as she thought of her father and remembering how cold Tabitha's vivid eyes were when she clicked her revolved and pressed it against her throat. Allison narrowed her eyes. She was sick of sitting around defenseless, like some fragile piece of china. Her family was being put in danger's way and she was determined to join their side. She wasn't going to willingly let them get hurt defending her. She set the arrow down before falling back into bed, staring at the ceiling with decisive eyes.

On the opposite side of the battle ground, waiting at her mom's side, the said Venezuelan sighed deeply, relieved that her mother had finally fallen asleep but was tense as she had just witnessed her mother break down. It was utterly heartbreaking seeing her mom sob into the pillow at the news of Todd being dead. It only deepened her resolve to avenge her brother. She moved a strand of hair from her mother's head, tenderly pushing it aside, before kissing her forehead.

"Don't worry mom," she bid to her. "Dad and I got this covered. We'll make sure they'll pay for this," she snarled but hid her face in her mom's shoulder so no one would see her wild golden eyes. "We'll make those mother fuckers pay."

Tori moaned in her sleep as she clutched her sheets. Her eyes squeezed as she relived those short few minutes of terror when the intruder broke into her quiet home. She screamed as he grabbed her throat and threw her onto the floor. But in her sleep her cries were muffled as whines and moans. She feared that she was going to be raped but he made no attempt to pull off her silk pants, focusing solely on knocking her out as she gasped for air.

Of course, she was a fighter, always has been and always would be, coming from a tough, poverty stricken family in the Bronx as a child.

No one would have suspected Victoria Reed –the unblemished, beautiful, pristine woman –as the product of an alcoholic upbringing, with an absent mother who worked two-jobs while her husband drank away all their funds. Victoria learned to depend on street smarts, having to walk in south Bronx every day to school –not the friendliest part of town. She acquired some good defensive skills that she practiced on her intruder.

The man was stunned when she sucker punched him, stunning him for a moment as she threw him off of her. He grabbed his aching face, momentarily in denial as she stood up, ready to fully defend her home.

The man shook off the pain and charged at her again, pushing her back onto the floor but she went down kicking. She grabbed at his face, scratching it, drawing blood, but he unfortunately got hold of her neck again and tightened his grip on it. The wind in her lungs was knocked out of her as she felt his thumbs pressed deeper into her throat. She made a choking sound then and also in her sleep, alarming Tabitha who shook Tori.

"Mom," Tabitha alerted, "Mom, wake up, mom." She looked behind at the closed doors, hoping her brothers were behind it. "MOM," Tabitha cried, hysterical. "Tom! Trent! Tyler! Get in here! Get the doctor!"

Tori, deep in her dream, started to regain the advantage as managed to throw the stranger off of her, ignoring the soreness of her torso from the indentations of his knees. She struggled getting up but was quick on her feet as she reached for a knife on the counter. The stranger didn't see this and blindly charged again but as he wrapped his hands around her torso, she plunged the knife under his rib cage. She felt a warm liquid coat her fingers as she pulled away, taking the knife with her, not wanting him to take it himself and go after her with her.

The man gasped for a moment, clinging to the edge of the granite but she kicked him in the same spot, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he toppled to the floor, squirming for the pain. The blood smeared onto the floor as he wormed away from Tori's feet, trying to distance himself from further injuries.

It was at this moment Todd burst through the door, loud and rowdy as usual, a wide smirk on his face as he began to talk about how Tabitha has a boyfriend but as he processes Tori's face, blue and bloody and then at the knife in her hands, his expression fell and the humor in his eyes switched to seriousness she rarely saw.

"Mom, what's wrong?" He yelled, rushing up to her. It felt like slow motion, him dropping his keys on the table as he moved around to face her. She analyzed his grave expression, the slightest curve of his lips downward as he worded each syllable carefully. She was at a loss for words and could only glance at both at the men in her house with an indifferent expression. She felt too many expressions to actually portray them on her face.

Numb as she finally processed what had happened, her careless hand dropped the knife. It clattered on the floor. She jumped at the noise and then grabbed for Todd, clutching the fabric of his shirt, incoherently telling him to get help.

The wounded intruder glared at Tori with burning brown eyes. Adrenaline kicked in to cover his pain as he lunged for what she assumed was the fourth time. He clubbed her in the face, knocking her down. Todd jumped at her defense, pushing her out of the way as he lunged at the stupid man. He threw the first punch, throwing the intruder off but the intruder came back, swinging a hard right hook with such force, Todd's head whirled around and angled him sharply so he wouldn't have time to correct himself. He found himself on the floor, facing the tile as the shadow of the intruder hovered over him.

Tori cried out and lunged at the man but something was different in his eyes, colder more than furious. She gasped, wondering what this could mean. In that split second Todd was down, the intruder reached for Tori, pulled her closer to him by her hair as she hollered in pain, only to be pushed into the wall. The sudden force vibrated in her head. She grew dizzy and stumbled onto the floor, unable to keep her balance as her head spun. She fell to the floor with a loud thump. Her vision blurred out and eventually blackened, only to be regained when she's being lifted onto the stretcher.

She awoke with her eyes wet and sticky from fresh tears as she heard her daughter's cries. Her breaths were labored until she realized there weren't any hands around her throat. She felt for herself, needling the flesh around her

"Mom," Tabitha sighed, hugging Tori. "Thank God. You were dreaming and crying and we couldn't wake you up. Are you all right?"

Tori nodded, not ready to speak yet. She embraced her remaining children, still grieving the loss of her eldest –he came before Tom during birth –and sought out to feel the real and warm flesh of her children, grateful they were still there. She smelled them, reeling in every one of her senses to gather their real presence. Tabitha smelled like strawberries. Tyler smelled like mint. Tom smelled like the lake. Trent smelled like… she scrunched her nose. He smelled like the barn. She smiled. But she loved him anyways. He was her youngest anyways, her baby boy, even if he denied it.

Victoria –on the other side of town –lay in her bed, unable to sleep. Her daughter was on her mind even if Allison slept peacefully in her bed.

These two women –bound by fate –would meet again someday, much sooner than later. Tori had a sworn duty as a mother to protect her daughter just as Tabitha would lay down her life like Todd had to protect her mother, even if emotionally they were strained. Victoria vowed to protect her only daughter as she had been for her whole life.

These two women looked adoringly at their only daughters, both with pride and both with and intense fierceness all mother's possessed but at the same time, it was different. Tori possessed tenderness in her touch and voice, a lightness that she adopted because Richard had taken the tougher, disciplinarian role. Victoria was tougher, with a direct authority over her daughter, but by no means did her Mother-Knows-Best attitude demean her love for her daughter. In fact it meant that she did love her daughter, a lot. She just knew a lot more than her sixteen year old daughter did.

Allison relied too much on her mother's knowledge and guidance. Tabitha learned most of what Tori had already provided for her. Allison still had so much more to learn. Tabitha already took up her practice slots.

Victoria Argent was tough because she was raised in a strict Catholic household. Tori Reed was tough because she needed to defend herself in her own home as a child. Victoria Argent married into a wealthy family. Tori Reed survived on bread crumbs and powdered milk. Victoria Argent understood what it took to defend what she was given. Tori Reed understood it too. She defended it multiple times, from when she was five to the present day.

When it came down to it, Victoria Argent versus Victoria "Tori" Reed, Reed by far had the experience but Argent had the audacity. Victoria was willing to pull out the big guns, never one to hesitate when she wanted to make a point.

When everything they knew was threatened, when their children are in danger, their inner Grizzly came out, especially for these tough women.

Tori had already suffered a loss of a beloved child. Victoria could only imagine the pain. Tori Reed was ready to fight to the death, not undeterred by her intruder but further motivated by it. As was Victoria but she didn't experience the crippling grief Tori had succumbed to hours after the death of her son. It only spurned it, strengthened her resolved to kill any idiot who dare steal another child from her steel grip. It'd be a suicide mission for them. Victoria, though, only had one and you can bet she'd move Heaven and Hell before she let anyone steal her child.

Only, Allison was more vulnerable. Tabitha had been given every lesson in self-defense from her Veteran soldier and survivor of a mother. Allison had just adapted the crossbow. Victoria had a long way to go to level her daughter onto the same one Tabitha achieved.

But no mother would let their daughter fight for them, as it was their responsibility to protect their child. So it was more of comparison of Victoria's abilities against Tori's.

Tori's life was more strenuous and tumultuous that Victoria's idyllic upbringing. Victoria 'Tori' Angela Reed was born into a low income family in a 2 bedroom apartment in the Bronx, New York, when Glenn Reed moved his high school sweet heart, Dallas Ferguson, from her Charleston roots to face her dream of becoming a dancer. (This dream was killed after her first two children, Kellen and Tori.) Glenn began to drink away his stress of providing for the family until he became so disorganized and unpredictable with his schedule, he was fired at the factory he worked in. Dallas had to take over as the bread winner and took up two jobs, one at the local grocery store and the second on the night shift as a bar tender.

Tori was forced to survive on her wits and street smarts, having to walk a block from home to school through South Bronx, notorious for his gang activity and tough guys who preyed on young girls such as herself, but at home, it was even worse as she was susceptible to all abuse her alcoholic father inflicted on her and her many siblings. Beating, verbal belting, and even some sexual advances –luckily she wasn't molested, thanks to her protective brothers.

Her mother was never in the picture as Dallas Reed was too busy feeding his habits with her two jobs as the sole provider to her family. It was only when Tori turned 13 did that change when Dallas had enough of supporting her husband only to learn he didn't dedicate even 10% of her earnings to her children like she had intended. Disgusted and angry, Dallas hardened and moved her children back to her parents' house in Charleston, North Carolina to her country roots with her upper-middle class parents, never to see that bastard of a sperm donor again. There Tori got a taste of the good life but her tough, merciless Bronx upbringing never left her. She was still tough as ever, only wittier with a sarcastic smile that could have a man on his knees in a matter of minutes.

Victoria Argent was from a milder setting in a small town outside Houston, she, too, coming from a southern background but from birth, with a religious upbringing, with the perfect 50's stay-at-home mother Caroline and 9-5 working father Jonathan Montgomery. Catholic faith was embedded in her lifestyle. She had three healthy meals a day, never having to worry about missing a meal. Her father, the stereotypical southern business tycoon, believed firmly in the constitutional right to bear arms and instilled that into his only, beloved daughter. She was the local beauty queen in her community, given everything she ever wanted, including a pony at the country club's stables.

But she had an audacity that had attracted Chris Argent when he met her on one of his "vacations." She was loud mouthed, witty, and cunning, with an air of mystery. He was fascinated by her because of it. As they two got to understand each other, he was surprised the bold southern belle was actually a tough hearted matriarch, the very kind of woman who spoke her mind and expressed her views without a moment's hesitation. She was the kind of woman who led with an iron fist and he loved that about her.

When Richard Vasquez met Tori, she was taken by his genuine charisma and his willingness to place a lady before him. She had never encountered a gentleman like that and was instantly smitten. She was also impressed he spoke as fluent English as he was with his native language. One their first dates, he described to her his ranch in northern California he had inherited from him ailing father. She was taken by the idea of all that vast land, the privacy, that California dream. All he had to do was smile and she was weak to her knees. It wasn't until they married did he get a glimpse of the no-nonsense mindset the beautiful brunette possessed. She was the one who refused to be called Tori Vasquez, not because she was 100% Irish and was disgusted with any Latin affiliation –trust her, she wasn't. Marrying Richard proved that. She wanted her children to have her name, to give them the same pride of her roots, so when they were called blank Reed, she could smile proudly knowing they were the result of her willingness to survive. Richard admired that and complied.

Then when she bore their perfect children, he understood the depth of her strength. She was tender in her touch but strong in her influence, as a simple look could correct her children, fore they knew she was a one-warning woman. After that warning passed, they weren't stupid enough to push for a second. (That's when Richard would step in as a part of their strong, united front and physically remind them why what they did was wrong.) As sons should, they respected the woman who brought them to this earth and as Todd as portrayed so valiantly, would defend her to death. She would do the same, pulling the same willingness to hold a gun and aim it at any threat, but most importantly, not afraid to get dirty or break a nail to land a punch.

Indeed, Tori Reed and Victoria Argent were a force to be reckoned with.