Author's Note:

Well hello Gleeks and Collars!

So, I'd apologize for the tremendously long and inexcusable wait between chapters, but I don't think words can even begin to tell you how sorry I am. Every time I get an alert for this story I feel so bad that it's taking me so long to finish.

But no matter how long it takes, I promise I WILL finish it, and I hope it won't be so long before I post another chapter. The popularity of this story amazes me and I promise I won't let you down!

The trip back to the apartment was long. Too long because it gave Blaine plenty of time to think, to run through every scenario in his head, each one growing worse than the one before. Images of him and Cooper and even Kurt being kidnapped or killed ran through his head. On the subway his eyes darted, studying anyone who even set their gaze on them. With every step on the sidewalk he glanced into the storefront glass beside him to see if anyone was following. Kurt grabbed his hand, grounding him, reminding him that he was here and not floating into the abyss where nightmares were real.

Fear slowly turned to anger. But it wasn't directed just at his father. There was only one person who could have sent Mozzie out to meet with that woman and that meant that Cooper knew. Cooper knew that their father had been mixed up in something greater than a little bit of accounting fraud and had kept it from Blaine. No, not Cooper. Neal. He had treated Blaine like a child and put him at risk by not making sure he knew the danger and then had the gall to tell Mozzie everything instead. Mozzie who had helped him burn the ledgers and probably erased computer files, precisely the evidence they could have used against the mafia, or traded, or something, anything to get them out of this mess and safe again. His fists clenched.

"Ow," Kurt exclaimed, Blaine's nails digging into his palm as he squeezed his hand too tight.

Blaine looked to his hand as if it belonged to someone else, muttered, "Sorry," and loosened his grip. But Kurt could see the anger in his eyes as the city lights reflected off of them.

They reached the mansion and Kurt tried to calm him before going in, but Blaine stormed inside, taking the mahogany stairs two by two to the penthouse apartment. He started shouting before he even opened the door. "Neal Caffrey you better be in there!" He flung it open so forcefully it slammed when it hit the wall. "You said it would be different! You said you would try and that we would be safe!"

Three steps into the apartment and he stopped. Four silent faces turned to stare at the intrusion. Neal stepped toward him. "You called me Neal," he said quietly.

Blaine's eyes flashed up at Jones, Peter and Mozzie, then back to his brother. His face was grim, his amber eyes hard as stone. "Well that's your name, isn't it."

Neal looked past Blaine to Kurt, standing against the door he'd silently closed behind him. Wide and apologetic blue eyes pleaded with Neal to stay calm and to fix this, whatever this was. His gaze returned to Blaine, and he reached a hand out to his shoulder. It was trembling beneath his fingers. "Blaine, what's going on?"

"You know what's going on," Blaine said, his voice breaking , trying to hold back tears of betrayal and fear. "Apparently all of you know what's going on but instead of telling me you chose to keep me in the dark like a child," he spat.

Kurt came to his side and took his hand. "We heard Mozzie in the park with that woman," he explained softly. "We know the mafia is after you guys."

Neal sucked in a breath and reached out, pulling Blaine into a hug. Blaine tried not to cry but it was no use, his emotions were overflowing and he didn't have any idea how one was supposed to feel when they found out the mob had a target on their back. Neal placed a hand on his head, calming him as he had when they were so much younger. But Blaine wasn't that little boy any more. He was almost a grown man, and now he might have to grow a little bit quicker.

"Come on," Neal whispered, letting Blaine go but keeping a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Kurt too and gave a small, sad smile. "Let's all sit down and talk."

"So what do we do now?" Blaine asked. His head was swimming with everything Neal and Mozzie and the others had revealed about what they know so far. Blaine had never wanted to know anything about the mafia before and now his head was like a mini Wikipedia. As far as they all could piece together, after the FBI swept through the Cleveland Mafia in the early 90's, the underboss from the time, Giuseppe Rocco, began a slow and careful climb back to relevancy. He went under the radar for years, the FBI having declared the Cleveland crime family inactive, many even calling it extinct. But it was just that declaration that seemed to have allowed Rocco to pray on unsuspecting minor players to help him build his empire back up again. Minor players like Blaine and Cooper's father.

"You and Neal do nothing," Peter instructed. "You let the FBI handle this. We'll put an unmarked car on the apartment for now, get an undercover agent inside. I'm sure June won't mind hosting a guest for a good cause."

"What about when we go out?" Blaine asked softly. He ran his hands through his hair and Kurt took his hands and held them tight. "What about when I go to school, or Kurt goes to NYADA? I'm already looking over my shoulder."

"That's a good idea in New York City anyway," Mozzie piped in.

"I don't know how you live like this Cooper," Blaine sighed. He felt like he was suffocating with fear, his insides curled into knots. His whole world was once again falling apart around him.

"We will get locations on all the major players," Peter promised. "Stay in tonight, and tomorrow we should have some answers." He forced Blaine's gaze and his eyes bore into Blaine's. "We will keep you and Kurt and your brother safe. I promise. This will be over long before school starts."

Blaine lowered his head onto the table, his arms folded beneath him. It was so much information to take in. Kurt rubbed his back in small soothing circles and whispered reassurance in his ear.

Neal and the agents got up and headed to the door, speaking in hushed voices. "How much danger do you really think we're in?" Neal asked, leading them out the door. He closed it behind him. Blaine didn't need to know any more than he already did.

"It's too early to say," Peter answered. "Maybe none. Maybe a lot. If we need to move you to a safe house we will, but let's get some answers first. I'll head to the prison and talk to DeLuca first thing in the morning. Ask him about Rocco, he's sure to give something up. Meanwhile we'll contact Ohio. Get information." Peter squeezed Neal on the shoulder. "Don't worry I'm not going to let anything happen to Blaine or to you. We'll figure this out."

"I'm trusting you Peter," Neal said.

Peter pursed his lips and nodded. He understood the significance and responsibility of that. "I won't let you down." He tugged on the lapels of his suit and led Jones back downstairs.

"I can get info too Neal." Mozzie bounced on his toes almost eagerly but Neal knew it was anxiety not eagerness that drove his movement. Mozzie would never trust the feds over the word on the street. "I can go to Ohio-"

"No, you've done enough," Neal insisted. "I don't want anything tracing back and questions have a way of just generating more questions. Let Peter and the FBI do their thing." He patted Mozzie on the arm. "We'll be alright. You just keep your head down. Last thing we need is another Mafia boss going after you. We got lucky last time, but one was more than enough."

Mozzie shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. "Okay. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will Moz." Neal looked at his friend fondly. He couldn't ask for a better one. "Thanks."

Neal came back into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He'd expected to find his brother and Kurt huddled together at the table, but instead they'd moved to Blaine's bed, sitting cuddled together against the bookcase, a photo album in Blaine's lap. He couldn't help but smile, seeing them together so easily, so lovingly. He wanted more than anything for Blaine to never lose that. Not like he had.

"What are you guys doing?" Neal asked softly, sitting down on the other side of Blaine.

"Just going through this photo album," Blaine said. When they'd packed the house in Westerville there were a few boxes of keepsakes and mementos that Blaine had insisted on not putting into storage. "Kurt's never seen us all together as kids." He gazed at the page in front of him, a family picture from when he was about 3 years old. He absentmindedly ran a finger over the photo. "Mom and Dad look so young."

"That's how I remember them," Neal said sadly and Blaine frowned. Sometimes he forgot that his brother hadn't seen their parents in nearly ten years. Neal turned the page to see them on a trip they'd taken when Blaine was four to Disneyland. An adorable mop of curls escaped beneath a hat of Mickey ears, a huge smile and eyes of wonder that stared back at them. Neal stood by his side, peering down at his little brother so full of excitement. "I remember that trip," Neal said. "It was over winter break my first year at Dalton. It was one of the best vacations we'd ever had. Everyone was just so happy."

"Well Disney is the happiest place on earth," Blaine smirked up at his brother.

Kurt just watched them, two brothers reminiscing about better times. It almost made him forget what had driven them all here to this very spot. He reached around Blaine and held him close. Losing him seemed too much of a real possibility right now, and he never wanted to let him go.

Blaine continued turning the pages and it brought to mind stories they couldn't wait to retell, sharing with Kurt memories of their short childhood together. Their performances in the living room his Mom had so eagerly captured, the birthdays, carnivals and graduations. Even Neal singing with the Warblers and his art shows at Dalton. They could see the change in Neal, from a carefree child to a teenager with far too much knowledge behind his eyes. He grew quieter as he aged in the photographs.

A flip of the page brought Neal face to face with Kate. A picture of them happy, dancing together at a Dalton/Crawford dance. His breath hitched and he took it out of the translucent sleeve to look at it more closely. "I have no idea how mom got that picture," he whispered. He turned it over, wondering if she'd marked it with a date or a note. There were numbers in his mother's handwriting, but they weren't a date.

39 57 30 N 82 59 59 W

"What is that?" Blaine asked confused.

Neal stared at it, and he knew instantly. "They're coordinates," he said and he jumped off the bed and immediately logged onto his laptop. Kurt and Blaine followed him and looked over his shoulder as he plugged the coordinates into Google. His eyes opened wide. "Ohio National Bank," he muttered under his breath. He left the boys staring as he ran back to the photo album and searched every single one of the pictures, but there was nothing else to give him any hint of what it might be for.

"There must be a safety deposit box," Neal said quietly, lost in thought. "Which means somewhere there's a key. What else is in those boxes Blaine?" The urgency in Neal's voice was contagious and Kurt and Blaine pulled the parcels from the closet. They searched through more photo albums, books that had been special to them all. Blaine had saved some of his mother's figurines and his father's pens as well as other small tokens that just reminded him of the good moments. They searched each of them meticulously but there was no key and nothing held another clue.

Kurt finally yawned with exhaustion and reached for Blaine. "It's been a really long day and I am falling asleep on the floor."

"I'm not letting you go home, not when it's so dark, not with the possibility of the mafia trying to find us," Blaine told him.

Kurt smiled and cupped his cheek, kissing him gently. "I'll call Rachel and tell her not to expect me." He glanced over at Neal, still pouring over the boxes. "That is if it's okay that I stay."

Neal finally looked up and he blinked, his eyes warming as he broke from his spell. "Of course it's okay. I'll be sure to put my ear plugs in," he smirked. Both boys blushed but neither argued. Blaine gave Kurt a spare toothbrush that they quickly decided would just be Kurt's when he was there and an old t-shirt and sweats.

When Kurt disappeared into the bathroom, Blaine helped Neal clean up the mess they'd made and put the boxes away back into the closet. He pulled out the only piece of artwork they'd agreed on keeping, a watercolor by an Ohio artist of two boys kneeling at the water. "You really should put this up somewhere. I know it's no Rembrandt, but when you were gone, it always reminded me of you. Mom too, I saw the way she looked at it."

Neal took it from him with an eye roll. Blaine was right. It was no Rembrandt and it didn't match any of the rest of the art in his apartment. But he knew that it mattered to Blaine. "You're right, I should," he said, leaning it against the kitchen island. "Tomorrow, I promise."

The bathroom door opened and Blaine went in to get ready for bed. Neal disappeared into his room, closing the curtain behind him.

"You really think the mob is after Neal and Blaine?" Elizabeth brushed her hair at the vanity while Peter brushed his teeth.

"I hink hairs a eally istit ossihility." He spit into the sink and rinsed.

Elizabeth raised a brow, looking at him through the mirror and smirked. "Care to try that again?"

He wiped his face on the hand towel, hanging it up nicely again so his wife didn't yell at him. "I said I think there's a really distinct possibility." He hated it. He hated that just as things were finally starting to look like Neal might settle into a life without crime, the crime found him. He walked over to Elizabeth and rubbed her neck. "We have to go on the belief that Rocco knows that Cooper is Neal and that Blaine went to live with him."

"That doesn't mean though that he's after them. I mean, Blaine's just a kid and Neal hasn't been with his father for years." She wanted them to be safe. She wanted her husband to give her some semblance of reassurance that Neal and Blaine would be safe because the mob was dangerous. Last time Mozzie had almost been killed.

"Neal helped his father. He knows about the money laundering. There was so little evidence found at the house I have to believe that Neal and Mozzie got rid of it, but if Rocco thinks they have it, that they can sell him out-"

"Then why don't they pretend they can? Use it as leverage to get a meeting with Rocco and then you can take him out just like you did DeLuca."

"And put Neal in the same situation Mozzie put himself in with DeLuca? You said it yourself, it's too dangerous." Peter had thought of it himself, but he'd decided against it immediately. He hadn't wanted Mozzie to do it the last time, had locked him up to try to avoid it. But Mozzie had his own mind. He always did. And so did Neal. His hands froze on Elizabeth's shoulders.

She glanced up at him and saw the panic in his eyes through the mirror. She turned, taking his hands gently. "What is it?"

"If you thought of confronting Rocco, and I thought of confronting Rocco-"

Elizabeth sighed. "Then Neal and Mozzie have probably already planned it."

From Peter to Neal [10:48pm]: Whatever you're planning Neal, don't do it. Let us do our jobs.

"I'm just saying Neal, if your mother has evidence hidden then it's just what Rocco wants," Mozzie was saying on the phone. "Instead of him coming after you we could confront him ourselves. Give him the information in exchange for a deal to leave you alone."

"It seems too risky," Neal said. A year ago he wouldn't have said that. But he had Blaine to think about now. "I trust Peter. We have to let the FBI handle things this time. I'm sorry Moz, but I have to do it this way or Blaine will never forgive me."

Mozzie was silent on the other end of the line. Neal glanced to the curtain where he could hear Blaine and Kurt whispering softly on the other side. "So this is it then," Mozzie finally said, voice filled with resignation.

"We get whatever she's stored away and we hand it over to Peter. As soon as I find the key, or any more information I'll let you know," Neal said before hanging up.

Neal stared at Peter's text and the coordinates in his hands. He didn't need a key to open the box, he could pick that kind of lock in seconds, but he knew they would need the key to get in the door. Or at least some semblance of one.

He fell back onto his pillow.

He couldn't decide if the idea that his mother knew, had maybe known all along, made him feel better or worse. But either way he was immensely grateful that she'd trusted him to make things right. Because even though they hadn't talked in over ten years, even though she'd died without the chance for apologies or goodbyes, even though he'd turned away from the Anderson name without so much as a tear shed, he knew without a doubt that she'd left their family's name in his hands.

And he desperately needed to know what the Anderson name truly meant.

"Seriously Blaine, I know you love this painting, but there is nowhere to hang it," Neal whined. Kurt giggled to himself.

"Yes there is Coop, you just have to be creative. Now come on." Blaine looked around, his eyes narrowing, trying to hone in on the perfect spot. There was art everywhere, famous paintings, reproductions that Neal had painted and even a few original pieces. Surely there was something there he could move.

"Let's just put it on the shelf above the sink," Neal said and he started clearing a spot, but Blaine stopped him.

"No. I want it on the wall, like it was at home," Blaine insisted. "It's Mom's picture for us, Coop, it's the only one she kept after you left and even though to you it's not important, it is to me and it was to her."

"Fine." Neal looked around and found a spot. "If it matters so much I'll move these two above your couch and put this one there. Okay?" Blaine's satisfied grin was answer enough and Neal rolled his eyes. He took the smaller paintings off the wall and turned the new one to line up the hook. And froze.

"What is it?" Blaine asked worried, and he and Kurt both crowded around a silent Neal, staring at the back of the painting. In the upper right corner where it couldn't be missed, a quote was sprawled in black script. Script they both recognized as their mother's.

I clasp the key around my neck
and wonder if the time is yet.
If I unlocked the gate today,
Would you come in? Or run away?

"The key around my neck," Neal muttered to himself, trying to decipher the clue.

"My key," Kurt whispered. His hand fluttered to his chest, understanding.

Now Neal's heart was racing. "What key?" Both boys were lost in a momentary memory and Neal had no patience for that. "What key Blaine?" he shouted.

"Mom had a golden key that Dad had given her when they were dating. I gave it to Kurt after she died. He wore it to prom." Blaine looked up at Neal, almost breathless. "But it can't be that key. It's wouldn't open a safety deposit box."

"But would it open something else? Something that maybe holds the key to the box?" he asked quickly and looked at Kurt. "Where is it?"

"It's back at my apartment," Kurt said. "But I suppose it could open something. A diary or a small box or something."

"But there's nothing like that in the stuff I brought, Coop," Blaine reminded him.

"Which means it's back in Ohio," Neal said. He got his phone out and was typing before the boys could say another word. Kurt nervously slipped his hand in Blaine's. Cooper went out on the deck to make a call.

"If you're going back to Ohio Blaine, I'm going with you," Kurt said with determination. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, not now."

But Blaine shook his head. "I'm not going to Ohio. Cooper's gonna do this right and tell the FBI what we found. If anyone's going to Ohio it'll be Peter or Jones." He closed his eyes. He had to be right. He couldn't handle it if Neal went without him and he didn't want to go…

"Mozzie will be by in ten minutes," Neal interrupted Blaine's thoughts, closing the sliding glass behind him. His voice and demeanor left no room for argument. "He'll bring you back to the apartment Kurt to get the key and then he'll go to Ohio. Bring whatever's in the safety deposit box back here before Peter even knows he's missing."

Blaine felt dizzy, everything was moving too quickly and he didn't understand it one bit. "Why can't you just tell Peter?" he asked, almost begged, falling down on the couch. "Let him go."

Neal took one look at his brother and willed himself to slow down, take a breath and explain. He reached for him and when Blaine didn't pull away he sat down next to him. Kurt sat as well and wrapped an arm around Blaine's waist. "We need to know what's in the box first before we just hand it over to Peter." Blaine could hear the regret in his voice and he knew this wasn't how Neal wanted things. "If it implicates me-"

"You could go back to jail," Blaine finished for him. "But you were just a kid!"

"And now I'm a career criminal. And Mozzie and I tampered with the evidence of a federal investigation. I can't be on their radar again Blaine, I just can't."

Kurt grasped Blaine's hand and squeezed it tight, forcing Blaine's eyes to shift. Kurt's were warm, loving, and resigned. "Cooper's right sweetie," he said. "This is the way it has to happen."

"I don't want you going out there, Kurt, to your apartment-"

"I'll be fine," Kurt promised and kissed Blaine softly. "You're being dramatic," he smirked tenderly.

"I'm a high school, glee club senior caught in the middle of a mafia war, I think I'm allowed to be a little dramatic," Blaine insisted, but he laughed softly.

A knock on the door interrupted them. The room grew suddenly serious again as Mozzie entered the room.

"We'll have to sneak past the feds," Mozzie told Kurt not even saying hello. "They let me in, but I don't know that they'll let Kurt out."

"Do what you have to Moz," Neal said and handed him the paper with the coordinates and the key to the storage unit. "You find whatever Kurt's key belongs to, get to the safety deposit box and bring everything home," he instructed.

"Do not pass go, do not collect 100 dollars?" Moz quipped.

"Right," Neal said.

Blaine stood with Kurt by the door, pulling him into his arms. "Be safe," he breathed, resting their foreheads together. "I love you." Their lips met, soft and tender, neither wanting to admit their fear this could be goodbye.

"Stop worrying," Kurt told him and he hoped it sounded convincing. "I'll call you as soon as I'm home."

Blaine nodded and watched Mozzie and Kurt slip out the door.

He stood immobilized until his brother's hands rested on his shoulders. "He's going to be fine Squirt. Mozzie could get around this city safely with a laser target on his back," Neal assured him.

Blaine didn't buy it though. "If that was supposed to be comforting you failed miserably," he said, but a faint smile played at his lips. He walked away from Neal's hands and collapsed into one of the kitchen seats. "I will never understand how you do this, Coop. How you live with the fear and the worry all the time. I think it would kill me."

Neal brought over the chessboard and laid it out on the table setting it up. Blaine rolled his eyes but arranged his side. "It's all a game Blaine. There are pawns and there are kings and the pawn's goal is always to capture every other piece until he gets to the other side and is promoted…to a bishop or a knight, a rook or even a queen. But the pawn forgets that try as he might, he can never be king, and he'll never be the last one standing." Blaine watched fascinated as Neal picked up both kings. "Now the interesting thing to remember about the game is not that only one king can survive, but that two kings may never stand next to each other or capture each other."

"But a king can capture a lesser piece," Blaine pointed out. "And even a pawn can capture the king."

Neal smiled, eyeing the pieces. "It's all about vying for position. But for it to really matter, you have to be playing the game. Which we are not."

"Are you sure?" Blaine looked deep into Neal's eyes, searching. For truth, for assurance, and most of all for a sign that everything was going to be okay.

"I'm sure Blaine. I'm not playing the game anymore," Neal promised. "Those days are done. It's just you and me. Peter will get Rocco, we'll find out the truth about Dad, and you'll never have to be afraid again."

Author's Note:

I hope that at least a little bit this chapter was worth the wait. I love you all, you are amazing readers.