Our Ours - Chapter 19 - lunartokki (2024)

Chapter Text

Knox crouched in a dim alley of New York City, carefully checking his gear one last time before venturing into dangerous territory. The small recorder tucked in his jacket pocket reminded him of Cameron's constant advice to always have a backup. Not willing to leave anything to chance, Knox had taken an extra one from work and discreetly stashed it in his pants pocket.

Following his informant's advice, Knox disguised himself as a supplier after following an address to a buried box in Central Park. Inside, he found a uniform that fit perfectly. Knox couldn't tell if it was sheer luck or if the informant had somehow known his exact size, but either way, the uniform made his cover all the more convincing.

He meticulously smoothed his hair back, aiming for an inconspicuous look, and let a couple of weeks' worth of facial hair grow, hoping it would subtly alter his appearance enough to avoid recognition. Some of the poets noticed the change, but Knox brushed off their comments, blaming his scruffy look on the demands and chaos of college life.

Despite all his careful preparation, Knox couldn't shake a lingering sense of unease. He paused to take a deep breath, mentally rehearsing the plan and going over each step needed to secure the information and, most importantly, to make it out alive. The weight of the mission, coupled with the uncertainty of trusting a near-stranger, weighed heavily on his mind.

Trusting someone he barely knew was a risk Knox wasn't entirely comfortable with, but the information he had verified so far was accurate. If the remaining, uncertain pieces of intel were true, it meant the masterminds behind everything would be meeting at The Golden Fork that very night.

Knox approached the rear entrance of the restaurant, a sturdy metal door usually cracked open for staff to handle trash and deliveries. True to form, it greeted him ajar, his timing impeccable. Just as he neared, a supplier emerged, carting a box from the truck, then vanished inside. Knox seized the opportune moment, snatching up another box and slipping in, melding seamlessly into the bustle.

Inside, the kitchen thrummed with activity. Cooks darted around, ensuring everything ran smoothly while guiding suppliers to their designated spots. Knox kept a low profile, moving with purposeful strides, understanding the importance of projecting ease. Few raised an eyebrow at those who appeared to belong.

Knox carefully set the box down among others tucked in a quiet corner, stealing a quick look around to make sure he wasn't being watched. He weaved through the bustling kitchen, avoiding any interaction with the busy staff, his gaze fixed on a hallway leading to the main dining area. He spotted the door he was told about nestled in a shadowy corner and headed there purposefully, keeping his guard up.

Entering the employee area, Knox surveyed the diner once more before turning his attention to the long hallway ahead. Everything appeared ordinary, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the sight of the row of private rooms at the far end.

Approaching the end of the corridor cautiously, Knox's ears perked up at the distant murmur of voices coming from one of the private rooms. He pressed himself against the wall, his heart racing. The door was slightly open, allowing snippets of conversation to escape. He retrieved the recorder from his pocket, switched it on, and hoped it would capture the conversation clearly.

"... new shipment from Turkey," a man's voice said, causing Knox to tighten his grip on the recorder. "We need to be careful. The border's tighter than ever."

Straining to hear every word, Knox knew this was exactly what he needed. He stood still, barely daring to breathe, completely focused on the conversation filtering through the crack in the door.

In the dimly lit hallway, Knox's senses went on high alert as footsteps echoed off the walls, sending a surge of adrenaline through him. His heart raced, and his mind raced even faster to come up with a plan as he caught sight of a waiter entering through the door he had just opened, balancing a tray of drinks. Reacting on instinct, Knox slipped into the nearest room and shut the door behind him.

Taking a beat to steady himself, Knox waited, attempting to slow his racing breaths and pounding heart, ears tuned for any hint of the passing waiter. As the footsteps faded, relief washed over him, tension easing as he stepped back into the hallway.

Knowing he couldn't linger there, Knox searched for a better hiding spot, one where he could listen in without risking exposure. His eyes landed on a nearby supply closet, just large enough for him to squeeze into, with a small vent near the top.

Silently slipping inside, he closed the door behind him and positioned himself close to the vent. Relief flooded over him as he realized he could hear the conversation more clearly now, like fine-tuning a radio. And fortune favored him, since the vent connected to the meeting room.

He held the tape recorder near it, his heart thudding against his ribcage, as a voice, deep and pressing, broke the silence, "How are we gonna get it through?"

"We'll need Anderson," the other man replied.

As soon as his words trailed off, a gentle knock echoed from the slightly open doorway. Despite it being ajar, the visitor outside waited patiently, not intruding without an invitation. Knox's heart raced a bit faster as a familiar voice joined the conversation.

"Got your call, Franco," Jeffrey Anderson's voice cut through the air, though lacking the amiability Knox remembered from their previous encounters. "I came as soon as I could. What's the deal?"

Franco didn't waste a second before diving into the details. "We've got a fresh batch coming in, top-notch stuff," he said urgently, leaning in as if every word mattered. "We're relying on you for the paperwork once it crosses over to the States. But with border security tighter than ever, you gotta be extra careful this time. No room for errors, Anderson."

Jeffrey absorbed it all, his response measured. "What kind of paperwork are we talking about this time?"

"The usual," Franco replied casually, prompting Knox's eyebrows to shoot up in surprise, wondering when Jeffrey got involved in this affair. "Import-export forms, transit permits, all the official jazz. Everything's gotta pass the sniff test, Anderson. Think you can handle it?"

Knox's fingers tightened around the recorder, inching it closer to the vent. His hand trembled, and he willed himself to hold his breath, afraid even a whisper might give him away to Jeffrey. He strained to catch every word, thoughts of Todd flooding his mind. Todd, blissfully unaware of the danger Jeffrey was diving into. The thought of Todd's inevitable heartbreak, the tears—it gnawed at him. Knox knew he had to make it out, not just to reveal the truth to the world, but to Todd. Todd deserved to know, no matter how painful.

"Ever made a slip-up?" Jeffrey's voice sliced through the tense air, oozing confidence and authority, eliciting a chorus of satisfied chuckles from the others in the room. "But I need more details to make sure this goes smoothly, folks. When's the shipment rolling in?"

"Next Tuesday," another voice chimed in, followed by a momentary hush and the faint scent of freshly lit tobacco drifting through the vent. "We'll have everything set by tomorrow."

Jeffrey's silence stretched, a heavy tension filling the room. Knox felt the weight of it pressing down on him, his breath shallow and rapid. "If we're gonna pull this off, we gotta be damn sure no one's sniffing around," he finally spoke, his words sending a shiver down Knox's spine. "Borders are tighter, and New York's heating up. One wrong move, and we're done for."

A deep voice then broke in, its tone low and serious. "What if someone's already onto us? Seen some odd stuff at the diner lately."

Jeffrey's response was chillingly matter-of-fact. "Then we deal with it. We can't afford to take any risks."

The room fell into a stifling silence, each second stretching out like an eternity. Knox's palms grew slick with sweat, his grip on the recorder tightening with desperation. He fought to steady himself, refusing to let panic take hold. He'd gathered more than he'd ever hoped for, and as certain as his name was Knox Overstreet, he wasn't leaving The Golden Fork empty-handed tonight.

The door to the private room swung open with a suddenness that startled everyone inside. A new voice, frantic and desperate, pierced the thick tension like a knife through butter. "We've got a problem," the newcomer blurted out, words tumbling over each other in a rush.

Franco's irritation prickled in his voice as he demanded, "What is it?"

The newcomer, still catching their breath, stammered, "Someone's been talking. We're not sure who, but there's word out there that we've been compromised. Martha overheard something about the cops heading our way, armed with our names. We need to hide everything, Franco, and we need to do it now."

Knox felt a rush of fear as adrenaline pumped through his veins. Time was slipping away, and he knew he had to act fast before things spiraled out of his control.

"Who else is in the loop on this?" Jeffrey's tone shifted, adopting a weighty seriousness.

"It's just us for now, but we're playing against the clock," the newcomer insisted, with prodding in every word. "They might have our names, but without concrete evidence, it's all just hearsay. Still, if the cops catch wind of this, even the Bonanno family won't be able to bail us out, so we need to hurry up."

Franco sprang up from his seat, his movements sharp and urgent, commanding attention from every corner of the room. "Clear it all out," he ordered, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "Anderson, handle all the papers. Leave no trace, even if it means turning them to ash."

“Franco, come on,” Jeffrey implored, his eyes searching for a hint of compromise. "It's months of work thrown away. There's got to be another angle we can work, right? I mean, we've pulled rabbits out of hats before," he said, his protest echoing through the room, the weight of his plea evident in the tremor of his voice and the desperation etched on his features.

"Jeffrey, we can't afford any missteps," Franco retorted, his tone dropping to a bone-chilling whisper. "Just follow orders and get moving."

In the background, a voice piped up with uncertainty, its owner evidently hesitant. "What about the shipment? Should we call it off?"

Franco's response was resolute. "No, we stick to the plan, but we gotta ensure we're squeaky clean, down to the last detail. Can't leave a single thread for them to tug on. Time's precious now, let's get moving."

In the cramped confines of the closet, Knox felt like a mouse in a trap, every nerve on edge, alert to the slightest whisper of movement beyond the door. The sounds of chairs scraping against the floor and the dull thud of shoes on linoleum sent shivers down his spine, urging him to remain hidden for just a moment longer.

Amidst the commotion, Knox slipped back into the hallway, his eyes darting around the dim space as he searched for any sign of Jeffrey. The man seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving Knox to question his own senses, but the weight of the tape recorder in his pocket reassured him that Jeffrey's presence hadn't been a figment of his imagination.

He navigated through the chaotic kitchen, where the stench of grease hung heavily in the air, nearly turning his stomach. His nerves simmered beneath the surface, especially when he felt the occasional eyes on him. Determined, he mirrored the casual steps of another supplier who had just been instructed to leave the diner, managing to blend in and make his way toward the exit without drawing suspicion.

The fresh night air hit Knox forcefully as he stepped outside, an abrupt contrast to the stifling heat of the kitchen. As he passed by a delivery truck, one of the suppliers shouted in his direction, trying to catch his attention. Knox, however, didn’t dare stop or turn back; his heart was racing as he slipped into the nearest alleyway. Once hidden from view, he hastily removed his supplier's uniform and discarded it into an overflowing dumpster with a quiet rustle.

Beneath the supplier's uniform, he had his black clothes on, a precaution to blend in with the streets. Knox couldn't afford to be recognized, not with the crucial information he was carrying. Todd's safety hinged on it, and Knox was determined not to fail his friend. Todd remained blissfully oblivious of his own brother's involvement in the mess Knox was tangled in.

As Knox made his way to the train station, every shadow seemed to harbor a potential threat, and every distant sound set his nerves on edge. He kept glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting to see Jeffrey's menacing figure lurking in the darkness, hot on his heels. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. A confrontation was the last thing he needed right now, not when he was so close to uncovering the truth.

Reaching the platform without incident, Knox felt a rush of relief as the train came to a stop, its arrival a silent promise of safety pulling him away from the danger zone. He leaned against the window, watching as the city blurred by, and the dawn painted the sky in soft hues. For the first time in hours, he allowed himself to let out the breath he had been holding.

Careful not to disturb Todd, Neil slid out of bed, the floor cool beneath his feet as he made his way to the bedroom door. It was a rarity for him to be the first one up, usually, it was Cameron bustling about, but today was different. This was a special moment, a weekend retreat meant just for them.

Neil, usually wrapped up in performances and obligations, finally had a day free from the spotlight. Today, there were no stages calling his name, no duties pulling him away from the comfort of home and the warmth of Todd's company.

As Neil made his way into the living room, thoughts of their upcoming trip danced in his mind. It was a much-needed getaway they had planned after Neil's play ended and before he dove into his college adventure. The Catskill Mountains beckoned with promises of solitude, a chance for just the two of them to bask in nature's embrace. After months of hustle and bustle, they longed for the simplicity of camping under the stars, an opportunity to unwind and reconnect.

A grin spread across Neil's face as he entered the living room, where Cameron and Charlie lay asleep on the couch, intertwined in each other's embrace. Cameron's arm draped over Charlie protectively, ensuring he didn't slip to the floor. Neil busied himself with making coffee, measuring out the grounds with care, relishing the peaceful rhythm of the morning. Leaning against the counter, he watched the two boys with affection, amused by their innocent yet intimate position.

Once the coffee was done brewing, Neil poured himself a cup and gently blew on the steaming liquid. Another smile crept onto his lips as he noticed Todd shuffling down the hallway. Todd looked a bit disheveled, with sleep still clinging to his blue eyes. His gaze drifted toward the couch, a smirk forming when he caught Neil's eye. Todd's snort of affection filled the quiet kitchen as he joined Neil.

"I told you," Todd whispered conspiratorially into Neil's ear, his breath warm and familiar. Neil's smile widened in response.

Neil motioned for Todd to follow him, and together they navigated through the maze of unpacked boxes scattered around the living room. They exchanged a look of silent understanding as they approached the couch, trying to stifle their laughter. Neil almost lost it when he saw Meeks and Pitts emerging from their rooms, their faces a mix of curiosity and surprise. Neil raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. Meeks responded with a knowing grin, shaking his head in amusem*nt, while Pitts, looking as pale as a ghost, tried to process what was happening.

Taking a careful sip of his morning coffee, Neil made his way to the front couch, sitting down with a deliberate air. He crossed his leg, the picture of calm composure, and cleared his throat with theatrical exaggeration, the sound cutting through the quiet room.

Cameron was the first to stir, his brow furrowing as he slowly woke up, squinting against the sunlight. His gaze moved around the room, taking in the faces of his friends before settling on Neil, who watched him with a bemused expression. It wasn't until his gaze landed on Charlie, still nestled against him, that Cameron's face flushed with embarrassment. His eyes widened as realization flooded in like a tidal wave, and in a clumsy panic, he jolted upright, inadvertently sending Charlie tumbling to the floor in a less-than-graceful heap.

"Son of a—" Charlie's curse was interrupted by a wince as he nursed his elbow, the impact against the floor not doing him any favors. He blinked in confusion, his gaze darting between Cameron and the poets, his expression shifting from puzzlement to mild chagrin. "Well, damn. Good morning, you guys."

"Yeah, good morning, Charlie," Neil chimed in, his grin widening into a mischievous smirk.

Cameron's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, his hands instinctively covering his face as if to protect himself from the embarrassment of the moment. He could barely manage a whisper, "Crap, we fell asleep on the couch," his voice muffled between his palms. He dared a glance through his fingers and saw the amused looks on his friends’ faces, which only heightened his discomfort. “Guys, this—it’s not what it looks like.”

Todd couldn’t resist a tease, his tone dripping with playful mischief as he rapped his knuckles against the wall, sending a hollow thud echoing through the room. “Maybe not, but is it what it sounds like?” he chuckled, smiling at Cameron.

"Come on, give it a rest, puffy lips," Charlie grumbled, his sleep-mussed hair resembling a wild tangle of vines as he sat up on the floor. He ran a hand through his unruly locks in a futile attempt to tame them, adding to the disheveled charm. "I've heard worse around here. Well, maybe not exactly here, but you catch my drift."

Pitts wrinkled his nose in distaste, as though he'd just tasted something particularly foul. "I'm not ready for this conversation so early in the morning," he declared, his tone tinged with the irritation of being dragged into awkwardness before fully waking up.

Meeks couldn't help but smile softly at Pitts' reaction, finding the whole situation more amusing than anything else. "So, spill it: are you guys a thing?" he asked, genuine curiosity laced with teasing.

Charlie, who had been lost in thought, tilted his head to the side, a pensive expression settling on his features. "Well, we're not exactly nothing, but it's hard to define if we're something either," he pondered aloud, as though grappling with a complex puzzle.

"I suppose you could say we're caught in the middle," Cameron offered, nodding as if to affirm his own words. Charlie nodded in agreement, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. The poets, accustomed to the enigmatic nature of their friends' relationship, simply nodded along.

Neil was on the verge of asking Pitts about Knox's whereabouts, but before the words could leave his lips, the room was rocked by Knox's sudden entrance. He burst in with such urgency that the door slammed shut behind him like it was trying to keep something out. His eyes were wide, darting around as if he were being chased by unseen shadows.

Charlie, who had been lounging on the floor moments before, was now upright, his expression serious, mirroring the tension that had gripped the room. "Knoxious, what's going on?" he asked.

Still catching his breath, Knox glanced around, searching each face for something. Finally, his eyes locked with Todd's, and a wave of dread washed over him. "Todd, I hope you won't hate me for this, but you gotta listen," he said, his voice shaky. He approached Todd, pulling out a small tape recorder from his pocket.

There was a moment of hesitation, a silent plea evident in Knox's eyes, before he pressed play. The room fell into a hushed silence as the recording began to fill the space, each person listening intently, absorbing the words being spoken.

The reactions among the poets were varied: some frowned in annoyance, quickly piecing together the significance of the recording, while others leaned in, visibly taken aback by what they were hearing. Pitts, a fan of gangster movies, couldn't shake the feeling that the voice on the tape bore a striking resemblance to that of the actor who played Al Capone in a film that had come out not too long ago.

But the room fell into a heavy silence as Jeffrey Anderson's voice echoed from the recording, each word landing like a weight on Todd's shoulders. Every gaze turned toward him, expecting some reaction, but Todd seemed frozen, as if the world had slowed down around him. Sadness crept into his expression, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, yet he remained motionless, grappling with the sudden surge of emotions.

As the recording neared its end, Todd's composure shattered completely, and he crumbled into sobs, clinging desperately to Neil as if he was the only anchor keeping him from drifting away. The other poets, still processing the weight of what they had just heard, remained silent, their minds racing to grasp the reality presented before them.

"Are we certain that's Jeffrey?" Meeks, always the skeptic, was quick to voice his doubts. "I mean, it could be any Anderson out there," he interjected, his tone a blend of skepticism and a faint glimmer of hope.

Sensing Todd's fragile state, Knox chose his words carefully. "How many Jeffrey Andersons, lawyers in New York, do you know?" he countered, steering the conversation towards undeniable facts rather than deepening Todd's pain.

As Cameron rubbed his temples, trying to piece together the blur of last night's events, he couldn't help but wonder how Knox had slipped out unnoticed. "So, how did you manage to make a getaway?" he asked, his brows furrowing with confusion as he mentally retraced his steps, certain that Knox hadn't left his bed when he stepped out for a breather.

Knox shot him a meaningful look, his gaze flickering towards Charlie, before he replied, "Well, you were pretty distracted last night."

Cameron could feel the flush creeping up his cheeks, his face burning hot with embarrassment, matching the fiery hue of his hair. But dwelling on it wasn't an option, not with Todd pulling away from Neil's comforting arms, his determination evident as he wiped his tears and reached for the key hanging by the door.

"Where are you going?" Neil's worry was evident as he matched Todd's stride, his eyes searching Todd's face for answers.

"I need to go see him," he replied firmly, his words a beacon of single-mindedness amidst the storm of emotions raging within. He felt a surge of pride at the clarity guiding his actions, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, revealing a path he knew he had to take. "I think I know where he is, and I have to see him."

"I'll come too," Neil offered, but Todd shook his head, refusing the offer outright. Neil's worry only intensified, showing in the worried bite of his lip and the creases on his forehead. "Todd, please, I really don't want you driving like this," he urged, his words tinged with fear.

Todd met Neil's eyes, noticing the worry lines on his forehead and the quick blinks of his eyes. They didn't need words to communicate; their bond was strong enough to understand each other's unspoken thoughts.

"I'll catch the train," Todd reassured Neil, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside of him. He knew Neil's fears all too well—they were his own. "But I need to do this on my own, Neil."

For a long time, Todd had always leaned on Neil to mend the rifts with his older brother. Neil had a knack for calming stormy waters, always knowing just what to say to ease tensions. However, Todd now faced the unavoidable truth that this time he needed to confront his brother alone. The thought of standing up to Jeffrey on his own was intimidating; Todd felt a mix of fear and resoluteness, but he knew it was crucial to prove to himself that he could handle his own battles.

The unsettling revelation about Jeffrey's dangerous connections weighed heavily on Todd as well, especially knowing he inadvertently put the poets at risk by suggesting they seek refuge at his brother's place. That advice now felt like a mistake he couldn't shake off. Todd couldn't help but worry about what might have happened if they'd stayed longer, so he vowed to handle things alone, shielding Neil from further danger, especially with the police sniffing around for his brother.

But he kept those thoughts to himself, knowing Neil's stubborn loyalty. Todd knew Neil would willingly throw himself into the fire just to stand by him. It was both reassuring and terrifying.

He likened Neil to a modern-day Icarus, irresistibly drawn to danger despite knowing the dangers, while he saw himself as the wind, desperately trying to steer Neil away from the sun.

"I'll be okay," Todd promised, though his heart clenched tight in his chest.

To Todd, Neil was a mix of Icarus and Chiron—a daring adventurer and a compassionate healer. Todd saw him as someone who knew pain intimately yet had the power to ease it in others. While most healers used herbs and scalpels, Neil's healing touch was more about affection, which worked wonders on Todd's own emotional scars.

"Alright," Neil's voice broke through the tension, carrying a slight tremor that revealed his struggle to keep composed.

Neil focused solely on Todd, the rest of the world fading into the background as he gently cradled Todd's face in his hands. There was a reassuring strength in his touch, a silent promise of unwavering support. Todd found himself drawn into Neil's gaze, feeling a magnetic pull that urged him closer, his worries dissipating with each inch they closed between them. It was as if Neil's caring kiss reignited a spark within him, kindling a sense of hope he thought he had lost.

Their lips met softly, holding onto the moment, cherishing the warmth of each other's presence. Todd, lost in the sensation, felt Neil's breath against his ear, comforting words easing his worries. "I'll be right here when you return, okay?" Neil whispered, his voice sending a shiver down Todd's spine. "You promised, so I'm counting on you. Just make sure you come back safe and sound, Todd Anderson."

Todd's heart swelled with warmth at the sight of Neil, his gaze filled with an overwhelming love that enveloped him completely. Cupping Neil's face tenderly, a soft grin tugged at Todd's lips as he found himself lost in the familiarity of Neil's eyes. There was a certainty within Todd, a deep-seated knowing that regardless of what life threw their way, he would always find his way back to Neil.

Nearby, the other poets beamed at him, their smiles a silent show of support that made Todd's own lips twitch into a grateful grin. Just as he was preparing to head out, Meeks pointed out Todd was still in his pajamas. Todd briefly entertained the idea of facing the world in his sleepwear, but common sense prevailed. The last thing he wanted was to draw more attention to himself on what was already shaping up to be quite an eventful day, so he quickly changed into more appropriate clothing.

Before heading out, Todd took a moment to thank Knox. Even though he knew Knox was preparing himself for the lectures from their peers, lectures Todd knew his friend deserved, he couldn't help but express his gratitude. Knox responded with a sympathetic smile, silently acknowledging the complex emotions they both felt.

The train ride felt like a never-ending nightmare for Todd. His mind buzzed with thoughts, swirling like a storm, pulling him deeper into a maze of worries. He tried to distract himself by thinking about Neil, recalling lines from his favorite poets, anything to anchor himself amidst the whirlwind of doubts. He craved reassurance—that he wasn't alone, that love surrounded him, and that no matter what happened, things would eventually fall into place.

As Todd felt the train slowing down for his stop, his mind began buzzing with thoughts, growing louder and more persistent with each passing moment. Stepping off the train, he tried to steady his nerves with each step towards the looming house. Finally standing before it, he paused to take a deep breath, finding a sliver of relief in the absence of any police presence. It was a small comfort, but it eased one of his fears—that he might have missed his chance to talk to Jeffrey.

His fingers shook slightly as he reached for the doorbell, a mix of anxiety and determination coursing through him. He waited, but no one answered. Peering through the windows, he strained to see any sign of movement inside, but the house remained eerily still. Hesitantly, he tested the doorknob, half-expecting it to be locked. To his surprise, the door swung open effortlessly, leaving him to wonder if he had indeed missed his chance or if Jeffrey had already left.

Entering the house, Todd's eyes scanned the familiar surroundings, searching for any sign of life. "Jeffrey?" he called out, his voice echoing through the empty halls. There was no response, no reassuring presence to greet him. Even Mrs. Johnson, who was usually around, was nowhere to be seen.

Feeling puzzled and increasingly uncomfortable, Todd moved further into the house, his footsteps echoing against the polished floors.

As he wandered through the silent rooms, Todd's confusion turned into a deep sense of unease. Each empty space seemed to amplify the quiet, making it feel like the walls were holding their breath. His feet led him to the second office—the file room that had been locked when the poets came.

Todd paused at the doorway, a knot of concern tightening in his stomach before he mustered the courage to push it open. His breath caught as he took in the scene before him. Filing cabinets stood ajar, their contents spilling out like a chaotic buffet spread. Gingerly, Todd's fingers traced over the folders, pulling them out one by one. With each document he examined, his apprehension grew, until he stumbled upon something that sent a chill down his spine—a gun, concealed among the paperwork.

Tears welled in Todd's eyes, his grip on the papers tightening until they threatened to crumple under his fingers. Each word on the pages felt like a punch to his gut, a stark revelation of betrayal that shook him to his core. He couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that Jeffrey might have been the one behind those damning words.

Jeffrey had always been the one Todd admired, the one who seemed to be good at everything he tried. From their childhood days, his older brother was the family star, with his accomplishments always displayed on the fridge and becoming the highlight of every family gathering. Todd looked up to him, seeing each achievement as a measure of true success.

At Welton Academy, Jeffrey was the school's pride, decked out in his uniform adorned with a heap of recognition pins that glinted with his successes. Todd couldn't escape the constant reminders of Jeffrey's greatness, from the whispers of praise that followed him to the weight of expectations pressing down on Todd's own shoulders. Nolan's mention of Jeffrey upon Todd's arrival at Welton only emphasized the immense shadow his brother cast over him, setting a standard that felt impossible to measure up to.

Todd's perception of his older brother crumbled, like a glass breaking into countless pieces scattered across his mind. The image he once held of his brother, full of admiration and respect, now seemed like a mirage fading into a blur of disbelief. It felt as if he had been living in a dream, where his brother was placed on a pedestal of perfection, an ideal crafted by their parents' praises. Perhaps there was some truth to it in the past; Welton's golden boy, the Harvard genius, the star student taken under a professor's wing. Yet, somewhere along the way, he became tainted.

The room felt like it was closing in on Todd, the air heavy with such tension, Todd could practically feel it clinging to his skin like humidity on a summer day. Then, a voice shattered the silence, making him jump. "I thought you were the police," it said from behind him. Todd spun around, eyes widening when he saw Jeffrey Anderson standing there.

His heart hammered in his chest as he blurted out, "You're a criminal." It was like someone else was speaking for him, the accusation feeling foreign on his tongue. "You're not who I thought you were either," he added, bitterness seeping into his voice as he tossed the folder onto the table, the sound of it hitting the surface echoing through the silent room.

"Todd," Jeffrey murmured his brother's name like a whispered prayer.

"You're a criminal," Todd's words came out low, heavy with a mishmash of hurt and anger. "Do you even understand what that means, Jeffrey? I've been trailing behind you my whole life, expected to walk the same path, achieve the same success. But it was never mine. I couldn't fit into the role they carved for me, and it crushed me, made me feel worthless. And now, realizing that the pedestal they placed you on was built on nothing but dirty lies?"

Jeffrey's lips quivered, silently pleading for understanding, his eyes darting around in search of the right words, a way to bridge the growing gap between them. But Todd's emotions surged forth, overpowering, drowning out any glimmer of hope for reconciliation. He stood his ground, refusing to let the heavy silence linger, the weight of years pressing down on him as he reclaimed his voice.

"I can't watch you risk everything that's important to me," Todd's voice cracked with emotion as he locked eyes with Jeffrey, his suffering evident in his gaze. The silence enveloped them, broken only by Todd's uneven breaths and the faint echo of his words. He watched Jeffrey waver, the facade of strength slipping to reveal the turmoil beneath. Yet, Jeffrey remained silent, his face a mask of regret and resignation.

Todd's chest tightened at the sight of his brother, feeling torn between anger and sadness. He wrestled with the urge to unleash his pent-up frustration, to let his words pierce through the air like arrows. Yet, a flicker of self-preservation nudged him to keep things brief, to make this painful conversation swift.

He blinked back tears, steeling himself for what needed to be said and done. "Look, just… stay out of my life," Todd spoke softly but resolutely, the weight of his decision evident in every syllable. Unable to bear the weight of his brother's gaze any longer, he turned away, each step heavy with the burden of his resolve.

Jeffrey's voice broke the silence of the corridor, urgency threading his words as he followed Todd. "Wait, Todd, just give me a moment, please."

Todd halted, his expression bitter and resignedas he squared up to his brother once more. "You know, when Mom and Dad catch wind of this, they'll probably get a kick out of it," he remarked, a hint of sarcasm tingeing his voice, a wistful smile ghosting his lips. "Dad might already suspect we've been keeping in touch. I froze when he called the other day, couldn't find the words. And now, he'll likely pin it on me, like I led you into this mess, as if you didn't choose it yourself."

Jeffrey's voice was soft, carrying the weight of regret as he spoke. "I'm really sorry," he murmured, his tone devoid of any pretense. "I get it if you need space from me, maybe even forever. But, before things escalate, can we just talk? I know I messed up big time, hurt you in ways I can't fix. Todd, you mean everything to me. You're not just my family; you're my little brother, the one I cherish the most. I won't ever forgive myself for dragging you into this mess. If you can't forgive me, that's okay, but please, let me have this moment. It's the last thing I'll ask of you, I promise."

Todd studied his brother, taking note of the tired lines etched on Jeffrey's face and the weariness in his eyes. He could sense the burden Jeffrey carried, the battles he tried to keep hidden. With a sigh, Todd eased himself onto the floor, feeling the chill of the tiles against his back. Jeffrey followed suit, their shoulders brushing against each other as they shared the weight of their troubles.

In the calm of the moment, Jeffrey reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. The flame from his lighter cast wavering shadows on the worn carpet as he brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply before offering it to Todd. Todd hesitated briefly, torn between the offered cigarette and the vulnerability he glimpsed in Jeffrey's familiar blue eyes. Eventually, he accepted it with a faint nod, taking a drag of his own.

Todd broke the heavy silence with a hint of incredulity in his tone. "You're just going to wait here for the cops to show up?" he asked, a furrow forming on his forehead as he glanced around the dimly lit room.

Jeffrey leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Boss wanted me to set it all ablaze, but what's the point? I've practically given them directions straight to my doorstep," he confessed, reclaiming his cigarette from Todd's fingers with a casual air. Todd eyed him, a mix of surprise and worry creasing his brow.

"But in Knox's tape, you made it crystal that anyone crossing you gets what's coming," Todd pointed out, observing the wisps of smoke spiraling into the air.

Jeffrey's lips curved into a smirk, a glint of satisfaction shining in his eyes. "Well, look at that," he said, a chuckle escaping him. "Seems like your buddy managed to pull off my little side gig. Been sharing some intel with that newspaper he's tied up with. Figured they're one of the few who actually give a damn about what's really happening in this city, so I trusted them to dig deeper."

Todd sat there, feeling like he'd been sucker-punched, a whirlwind of feelings knocking around inside him at Jeffrey's bombshell. He just stared, hoping maybe the answer was written somewhere on his brother's face or in the way his mouth twisted, desperately trying to make sense of it all.

"I never thought your friend would be the one nosing around in all of this," Jeffrey said, breaking the quiet with a sigh of relief and disbelief in his voice. He leaned against the wall, recalling the encounter at The Golden Fork, the tension of the moment still fresh in his mind. "Glad I was there to catch him snooping, or he'd be six feet under by now," he added.

Todd looked at him with a depth that words couldn't quite capture, but Jeffrey understood, nonetheless. There was a silent exchange in Todd's gaze, like they were speaking their own language, conveying a tangled mess of gratitude, pain, and memories without uttering a single word. Jeffrey felt it in his gut, so he simply offered Todd a tremulous smile.

Jeff paused for a moment, a small grin spreading across his face as he closed his eyes. "You know," he said, his voice soft, a warmth in his expression, "you guys are something else. I had this feeling Knox wouldn't give up easy. So, I stuck with him and tried to watch his back; stayed committed to my plan, even if things got tough, just to make sure he kept going and made it through, even if I wasn't there," he said, looking directly at Todd, who was struggling to hold back tears.

Todd battled with his emotions, his inner turmoil evident as he clenched his jaw. "How did you get caught up in all of this, Jeff?" he asked, his voice breaking as he handed the cigarette back to his brother. "We could've had each other's backs, worked things out between us. I was just waiting for the right moment to reach out and mend things. Never imagined it'd be under these circ*mstances."

"I guess college was a rough ride," Jeffrey admitted, finishing his cigarette and crushing the butt under his shoe with a heavy sigh. Todd looked down at the clean floor, where the cigarette butt stood out like a sore thumb. "I knew it could go south, but I never thought it would spiral out of control so quickly. I tried to stay away, to keep you out of the chaos. Then work sent me to New York, and I couldn't stop thinking about the old days, about how much I missed having you around. So, I asked Mom and Dad to send your things, hoping it might help us reconnect."

"I'm sorry, Todd," Jeffrey murmured as the tears continued to run freely down his face, but he made no effort to wipe them away. "I know I haven't been the brother you deserved. Looking back, there's so much I wish I could change, but this is where we are now, and I have to accept that. I suppose that—well, I know that what hurts me most is realizing we never really got to know each other. We were always boxed in by our parents' expectations, when there's clearly more to us than that. But Todd, I've always believed in you. I may not have voiced it often, and perhaps it's not my place to say it, but I'm really proud of you, brother."

Todd's chest felt like it was being torn apart, not by any physical force, but by the crushing weight of his emotions. This wasn't a fleeting sadness or a momentary pang of loneliness; it was a deep, relentless ache gnawing at his very soul. He used to believe the worst pain came from being ignored, from feeling insignificant. That was before Welton. Before he encountered the raw, searing agony of loss, the kind that left you gasping for breath, clutching your chest in despair. It was the excruciating pain of loving someone with all your heart, of being loved back just as fiercely, only for fate to cruelly wrench that love away.

Jeffrey glanced at his watch, a heavy feeling settling in his chest as he brushed away his tears. "Time's running out, Todd. You have to go. They could be here any minute."

Jeffrey's voice barely rose above a whisper, his lips curving into a tight but gentle smile. "I'll do my best, Todd," he murmured softly. "I sincerely hope life showers you with joy every day, surrounded by your friends, Neil, and your family. Even if books are scarce where I'm headed, I'll move mountains to get hold of your words. I know your voice will resonate in places you can't even fathom."

Jeffrey gradually pushed himself up, each move careful, like he was gathering all his strength for what was ahead. Todd tried to hold back the flood of emotions, wiping away his tears. But no matter how much he tried, they kept coming, leaving fresh streaks on his face. They looked at each other for a moment, sharing a silent understanding filled with unspoken words. Then, driven by a sudden urge, Todd stepped forward and hugged Jeffrey tightly. Jeffrey hesitated at first, but then he hugged back, and in that brief moment, the Anderson brothers found some comfort in each other's arms.

As they held each other, Todd felt a rush of memories flooding back, transporting him to simpler times, back to their childhood days spent in the backyard. He remembered the afternoons when he and Jeffrey would play, their wooden swords clashing in epic battles. Todd would inevitably trip and fall, scraping his knee on the rough ground, tears streaming down his face as they were now.

But Jeffrey was always there to scoop him up, comforting him with his words. "You're a warrior, Todd," he'd say, his voice a balm to Todd's hurt. Those words made Todd feel unstoppable, even as their parents scolded him for being reckless, tending to his wounds a little too harshly. Despite the sting of antiseptic, Todd's heart swelled with pride, echoing Jeffrey's reassuring words in his mind.

In the silence that enveloped them, Jeffrey's words floated softly, carrying the weight of truths they had never spoken. "I love you, little brother," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath mixing with the strands of Todd's hair. The tenderness in his confession broke something inside Todd, who began to cry even harder, his tears soaking into Jeffrey's shoulder.

As they let go of each other, Jeffrey's eyes carried a mix of feelings, like he was sorry to let go but also determined. His smile wasn't all happy, more like it tasted sweet and sour at once. "I was hoping we'd cross paths one more time," he confessed, his voice uncertain, like it was fragile and it might break if he said too much. "There's something I've been meaning to give you, something that's been on my mind lately."

Jeffrey rushed into another room, then hurried back, clutching a briefcase. Todd, puzzled and curious, watched as his brother handed it to him. "What's in here?" he asked, frowning as he took it.

Jeff shifted fearfully before he spoke, his feet shuffling on the ground. "I was going to ask Mrs. Johnson to give this to you if I couldn't find you," he said, nodding towards the briefcase Todd was holding. Todd's eyes narrowed in confusion, but he unzipped it to peek inside. "It's full of money," Jeff added, and Todd's head jerked up in shock. "I want you to have it, Todd. Use it for something good. I've made so many mistakes, and I want at least one good thing to come out of them."

Todd hastily shut the briefcase, his nerves making his hands shake. "Sorry, Jeff, I can't do this," he muttered, pushing it back toward Jeffrey.

Jeffrey reached out, his hands grasping Todd's shoulders tightly, a hint of desperation in his touch. "Todd, I've worked myself to the bone for this money. I won't lie to you; some of it isn't exactly clean. But I trust you to do something good with it. You have a gift for turning things around, so please, make something positive out of this. I know I said I wouldn't ask for more, but I'm really begging here. Please take it."

"Jeffrey, seriously, this is too much," Todd shook his head as he spoke, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground to avoid his brother's pleading gaze. "I'm just done being in your shadow all the time."

Jeffrey let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he resigned himself to the situation. "You can't live in the shadow of something that's already swallowed by darkness, Todd," he said, his smile tinged with sadness.

The two stood face to face, their eyes meeting in a quiet exchange. Their shared blue eyes held a familiar intensity, yet they seemed to belong to different worlds. Todd couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between their paths, a realization that hit him harder than expected. But despite the apparent gulf between them, there remained a fragile connection, like a thin thread holding them together, so Todd let out a defeated sigh and reached for the briefcase at his feet.

"I'll catch up with you when I've sorted things out," Jeffrey's voice cut through the air, firm and unwavering. Todd couldn't discern the timeline of that promise, but the somber lines etched on Jeffrey's face hinted it wouldn't be anytime soon. "Stay clear of the mess I'm in. I don’t want to drag you or your friends into any more trouble. Just hold tight for me. Someday, you'll be flipping through autographs, and there I'll be, standing in line. Hopefully, a version you'd be proud to call your brother again."

Todd's vision blurred as more tears threatened to spill over. His heart was caught in a tumult of conflicting emotions. He stood there, hesitating, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach as he struggled to find the words that had been weighing heavily on his mind. "Do you think... maybe I should tell Mom and Dad?" he finally managed to ask, his voice barely above a mumble.

Jeffrey's response was nonchalant, his shoulders lifting in a casual gesture that said more than words ever could about his acceptance of the situation. "Sooner or later, they'll figure it out," he said, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability. "But you don't owe them anything, not me, not anyone. Just do what feels right for you, Todd."

Jeffrey's nod carried a weight of its own, a silent agreement in the face of their shared challenges. Their eyes met, expressing more than words ever could. It was a moment that seemed to erase the distance and disagreements of the past, leaving them raw and open to each other. There was a hint of sadness in their exchanged smiles, a silent farewell to what might have been. With a final glance, Todd turned away, his steps merging with the city's bustling rhythm.

In the heart of New York's chaos, Todd stood on the street corner, feeling like a small boat in a stormy sea. Sirens blared, cars rushed by, and the city's relentless energy threatened to swallow him whole. Tears welled up, promising to overflow. It was like holding back a riptide, and Todd knew he couldn't keep it up much longer. Then, without warning, grief hit him like a ton of bricks. He hunched over, gripping his legs as he retched onto the pavement, the city's noises swallowing his cries.

As Todd stood up, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes still watery, his steps echoing on the sidewalk. The briefcase his brother had handed him felt heavy in his grip, not just physically, but emotionally too. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the subway station and braced himself for the journey that awaited.

Todd boarded the train, feeling its gentle rumble beneath him as it chugged along the tracks. Settling into a seat, he hoped the motion would calm the torrent of emotions raging within him. His heart thudded loudly, each beat resounding in his ears, while his breaths came quick and shallow, as if he couldn't quite find enough air.

Mr. Keating's words came back to him, about finding steadiness in the now when everything else seemed chaotic. So, he stood there, feet planted firmly, and focused on his breathing, aiming to find a moment of peace amid the storm.

In his mind he pictured his worries unraveling, like knots loosening in a tight rope. He wished Neil could be by his side to ease his mind. But for now, he clutched onto the briefcase, trying to focus on its weight in his hand. As he exhaled, some of the heaviness lifted from his shoulders, even though the world's troubles still felt daunting. However, scanning his surroundings, he found solace in the simple things, which suddenly made his worries seem less pressing.

After what seemed like forever, Todd finally arrived at his apartment building. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Neil sitting on the front steps, his familiar presence instantly soothing Todd's frazzled nerves. Todd glanced up at the open window of their apartment, hearing Meeks shout out his return to the others. By the time he looked back down, Neil was already standing, his face brightening with clear relief as their eyes met.

Neil pulled Todd into a tight embrace, and immediately, Todd felt a profound sense of homecoming. As he closed his eyes, he let himself sink into the warmth and security that only Neil's arms could offer. The bustling world outside seemed to fade away as Neil let out a gentle sigh, his fingers tenderly weaving through Todd's hair. This simple, intimate gesture conveyed so much without a single word being spoken.

Todd shut his eyes, letting silent tears stream down his face as he surrendered to Neil's comforting presence. Neil's words were more than just sounds; they were soft whispers meant only for Todd, blending with the distant hum of New York. Though physically unscathed, Todd knew the wounds within would take time to mend. So, he allowed himself this moment, embracing Neil's care and the whispered reassurances that seemed to mend the fractures in his heart.

As the poets eagerly pushed the creaky, worn doors of the building, Todd felt a warmth bloom within his chest. Their determined expressions spoke volumes, a wordless chorus of love that wrapped around him like the embrace of kindred spirits. Todd returned their smiles, touched by their support, even as his own resolve wavered at the distant echo of a closing door.

Todd pulled back slightly from Neil's embrace, their fingers naturally intertwining as if they were always meant to fit together. The hustle and bustle of the street around them seemed to fade away, becoming nothing more than background noise to this moment.

Todd squeezed Neil's hand, feeling a rush of warmth as Neil responded with the most beautiful smile, one that reached his eyes and lit up his entire face. He turned to the group of boys, his heart swelling with emotion, eyes puffy with tears but his smile undying.

"Why don't we head upstairs and brainstorm ideas on how we'd like to rebuild the house?" he suggested, his voice light and full of an unexpected joy. The poets exchanged puzzled glances, not quite sure what to make of Todd's newfound enthusiasm. But Todd’s smile only grew, brighter and more genuine, as he felt a wave of optimism wash over him.

"Because, folks," Todd continued, his voice brimming with purpose, "today marks the start of our quest to reclaim what's rightfully ours."

The poets stood there, the weight of their uncertainty almost tangible, and Todd felt a rush of emotion swell inside him. He took a moment to close his eyes, letting the feeling build. Then, with a sudden, uninhibited burst, he let out a barbaric yawp—a raw, primal shout that seemed to liberate him. As laughter bubbled up from within, Todd opened his eyes to see his friends watching, curiosity and amusem*nt dancing in their eyes.

His laughter proved infectious, spreading among his friends like wildfire. Hesitant chuckles turned into full-blown belly laughs as they all joined in the ecstasy of the moment. Inspired by Todd's boldness, Neil raised his voice in a hearty cheer, and soon, the lively streets of New York City echoed with their collective yawps.

And Todd realized then, in his heart of hearts, that this was the essence of it all. Life wasn't about the doors themselves, whether they were solid oak or just wisps of hope; some doors would shut in their faces, but he understood in that moment that it wasn't the end. As long as they moved forward side by side, all seven of them, they'd find their way.

The end.