Chapter 1

Peter was seeing red. He couldn't believe that this was happening. His own nephew, for God's sake. What kind of reputation would he have in the office now that his own nephew was arrested? That wasn't really what mattered, he knew that in the back of his mind. What mattered is that his own nephew was so troubled at the moment that he got arrested. Did he mention that it was his own nephew? Yeah…he thought so.

"Boss, you are going to wear a hole in the carpet if you don't stop pacing," Diana, Peter's probationary agent, said in amusement from where she was leaning against Peter's desk.

Peter looked up at her for a moment, hearing the hint of amusement in her voice. She was the picture of confidence leaning against the desk. A very strikingly beautiful young woman, dressed in a business suit and black heels. He had known her for many years now, and trusts her frequently with his own life. He knew that she was taking this as seriously as he was, she was just using a little bit different of an approach to the situation.

"You're right. Pacing isn't doing anything to help the situation, is it?" Peter admitted with a sigh, sitting down behind his desk on his rolling black office chair. "Of all the situations I am prepared for—and I would say that is a very high number—this one just wasn't on my list."

Peter closed his eyes for a few moments and ran his fingers through his hair in his stress. When he got up this morning, he thought it was going to be another typical day in White Collar—not that any days at the FBI could really be called typical. He was supposed to go to work and arrest "bad guys" so that he could protect others. He would have never in a million years imagined that one of those "bad guys" would be his half-brother's son.

"Have you heard from his family lately? Had any clues that he was getting into trouble of any sort?" Diana asked, unfolding her arms and straightening up.

"No, I haven't spoken with my sister-in-law in a very long time. She kind of went downhill after my brother died. She started drinking and cutting everyone out. Janet and I got into one too many disagreements and she made it perfectly clear that she didn't want my or El's help and that we should mind our own business," Peter explained, feeling a little stab of pain in his chest with the realization that he hadn't stepped up to see how Cooper or Blaine were doing through everything.

"You have to call her, you know," Diana reminded. "You have to tell her that you have her son in custody in the FBI building as we speak."

"You're right," Peter replied, and mentally added to his statement. 'As always.'

Peter begrudgingly picked up the black office phone sitting on the corner of his desk. It was sitting right next to a picture of his wife Elizabeth and he couldn't help but take strength from the sight of it. Elizabeth was always calm and collected in all sorts of situations. She always seemed to know the right words to say and the right way to say them. Peter wished that he had that gift, but after ten years of being married to her, he had come to the conclusion that it was something you are born with and not something that is learned.

"Hello?" a familiar voice asked through the speaker, sounding rough and as if the speaker smoked several packs of cigarettes a day.

"Janet, it's Peter," Peter said, shifting in his chair to sit up straighter and hopefully convey a tone of authority through the phone.

"And what do you want, Peter?" Janet asked. Her tone was not rude exactly, just more confused as to the nature of the phone conversation. The two hadn't spoken in at least five years, so Peter figured that she had every right to be confused as to why he was calling.

"I'm calling because I currently have Blaine sitting in one of my interrogation rooms," Peter replied with a sigh. He didn't want to cut straight to the chase like he just did, but really there was no way to soften those words.

"What the hell did that boy do this time?" Janet barked into the phone, taking Peter by surprise for a few moments.

"He was caught stealing a painting from the Met, and is suspected of having forged and stolen some others," Peter replied, and then realized what she had said. "What do you mean this time? Has he gotten into other trouble before?"

"Don't even get me started," Janet replied in exasperation. "That boy has been nothing but trouble for the past couple years. He has been acting up in school and getting detention all of the time for missing homework and skipping classes. His grades have been abysmal. He likes to stay out all hours of the night."

"Well Janet, did you ever ground him?" Peter asked, not wanting to overstep his boundary, but really very curious as to how she was handling the situation. What kind of parent would allow it to escalate to this? He couldn't really give too strong of a judgment on the situation, he wasn't a parent after all, but he had seen Janet after the death of her husband and he couldn't help but infer that maybe she wasn't stepping up to the plate.

"What, you think that you could have raised him better? You think that it's my fault that the little shit got into the trouble that he did?" Janet yelled into the phone.

"That's not what…" Peter began, but got immediately cut off by Janet.

"You know what, you raise him then. I'm done. You have full responsibility for him now. See if you can do much better. I will get whatever paperwork you need signed, but I'm done."

With that said, Janet promptly hung up the phone. Peter stared at the receiver in shock for a couple minutes, sure that he was dreaming this. He couldn't really have just been given full responsibility for a sixteen year old.

"Boss," Diana asked confused, snapping Peter out of his stupor.

"She told me that he is my responsibility now," Peter admitted, his tone laced with confusion. "I really don't know what to do now. Should I call her back? Should I argue that you can't just give up a child like that? There is proper paperwork to be filled out and there is…"

"Boss!" Diana yelled, snapping Peter out of his rant. "You should perhaps call Elizabeth. As you said, there are documents that have to be filled out, but given his current predicament Blaine could be placed in your custody. You would be both handler and parent. Either way, you need to talk to Elizabeth though."

"This is why I keep you around," Peter replied with a small laugh.

"Among many things," Diana said with a smirk. "I'm going to go talk to the Director and see what kind of deal we can strike up for Blaine. You and El are going to need your privacy for this conversation."

Peter nodded his head in thanks and then watched as she walked out the door. He was stalling a little by doing so, and he knew it well and good. How exactly did one tell their wife that they had now been given custody of a sixteen year old? Elizabeth had always wanted kids, but he imagined starting with a baby and starting with a sixteen year old were two entirely different stories. This was not going to be an easy conversation.

After a few more moments of stalling, Peter finally picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. It rang three times before the soothing voice of his favorite person in the world came through the speaker.

"Hi, Peter. Is everything okay?" Elizabeth asked, almost as if she knew that there was something wrong already. Peter always had a suspicion that El could read his mind. She always said that it was just that she knew Peter so well, but sometimes Peter was pretty convinced that there were some other-worldy things going on.

"Not really," Peter admitted with a sigh.

Peter told the story straight without any interruptions from El. She just listened in silence, taking in all of his words. After he finished what had happened he took a deep breath and waited for El to speak.

"I will get the guest room ready," Elizabeth said in a tone of finality.

"Are you sure?" Peter asked, sagging in the chair in relief. "This is a big responsibility that we're about to take on. Not only is he a teenage boy, but he is a teenage boy who is in a hell of a lot of trouble."

"Peter, he's your nephew," Elizabeth began, her tone emphasizing the fact that she thought his statements were unwarranted. "He really needs someone there right now that can provide a steady and disciplined lifestyle."

"Well he is sure going to get some discipline," Peter said, some of his anger coming out once more. "I'm not sure what the bureau is going to allow, but I'm sure he isn't going to like it. I just want to keep him out of jail at all costs."

"He doesn't have to like it," Elizabeth stated. "He just has to live with it."

At that moment there was a knock on the office door. Peter looked up and saw Diana standing there once more, holding a stack of papers in her arms.

"Thank you for being so amazing about this, El," Peter said, shifting in his chair. "Diana is back with news of what kind of deal we can strike. I will hopefully be home fairly soon with our new charge in tow."

"I will wait up for you then," Elizabeth replied.

The two hung up and Peter turned all of his attention toward his probationary agent. He just hoped that she was coming baring good news.

"So I have good news," Diana began, as if reading Peter's mind. He seriously swears that this must be a super power that only women have. Maybe they all are in on it together and just lie to men about it as a part of some women pact or something.

"That's what I like to hear," Peter said, standing up from his chair and joining Diana at the small round table in the corner of his office.

"I'm not sure that Blaine will like it, but it's the best he is ever going to get," Diana explained. "It's a new program that they were wanting to try out, but had yet to have the chance to do so. They thought this would be the perfect opportunity given how trusted and successful of an agent you are. It has many rules, with the option for you to fill in many others that you feel it leaves out. They are testing this program out with juvenile delinquents to hopefully lower the terrible recidivism rate."

Peter looked at the papers that she was spreading across the table and immediately got the gist of what this program entailed. She was right in thinking that Blaine wouldn't be happy with several aspects of it, but it really was just what the boy needed.

"This is perfect," Peter said after he glimpsed over all aspects of the plan. "I think that it's finally time that I go and surprise our young little felon with my presence and deliver the news."

Peter had yet to reveal his presence to his nephew. He had been caught and brought in by the team that included one of Peter's favorite agents Clinton Jones. They had been tracking Walter Clarington and knew that he had partners that he was using, but did not know their identities. Peter had sent some members of his team to the Met when they heard a rumor that Clarington himself was going to be staking out the building. However, the team got a surprise when they found a teenager there stealing a painting—that teenager turning out to be none other than Blaine Anderson. Peter was in a meeting when Blaine had been brought in and it was only when Diana came into the room to inform him of what had happened, that he found out Blaine was even in the building at all. He immediately went with Diana and peeked in on the interrogation room. He looked through the two-way mirror at Blaine sitting there uncomfortably, but decided that he didn't want him to know that Peter was an agent on the case yet. He didn't want to go in until he could tell Blaine much more accurately of his fate. He also didn't want to go in there until he could calm down a little bit. He didn't want to go in when every word that he said came out of shock and wasn't processed before he spoke.

Peter walked up the stairs and into the main area of the interrogation rooms, trying to figure out what he wanted to say to his nephew as soon as he walked in. So far he was unable to come up with anything, so he figured he would just play it by ear when he did. He reached for the door and pulled it open.

The noise of the door opening caused Blaine's head to snap up to inquire as to who was coming in. Upon recognition, Blaine's face immediately paled. It wasn't like the boy didn't know that his uncle was an FBI agent. He just really didn't know what department he was in and figured the chances of having to encounter him were slim to none. Clearly he didn't think that one through.

Peter stood there in silence for a few moments, taking in the sight before him. Blaine was dressed like a typical teenager. He was wearing a white t-shirt, a pair of faded jeans and black converse. There would be nothing out of the ordinary about his appearance, if it wasn't for the glint of the silver handcuffs that were currently cuffing him to the table. Peter mentally noted that there was no way they could be comfortable, but all other criminals that sat there were in the same position and he didn't feel he should be lenient with his nephew in that aspect.

"Uncle Peter…" Blaine finally stuttered out. "I didn't…what are you…"

"What am I doing here?" Peter asked, faking nonchalance. "I work here Blaine. I work in the White Collar department of the FBI. My presence isn't the one that should be questioned here, it's yours."

Blaine clearly had no response to that, and took instead to staring down at his cuffed wrists as if there was an answer to the meaning of life written upon them.

"How could you seriously think that you could steal a couple paintings and forge a couple more without getting caught?" Peter asked, his voice raising the more of the sentence he spoke.

Blaine winced, but other than that made no clear sign that he heard what Peter had said or that he planned to respond. His mind was reeling though—they only knew about the painting that he stole that night, right? The rest had to just be an assumption based on them trying to connect the dots. He was sure that they weren't originally after him, meaning that they had focused on Mr. Clarington. They were assuming that everything that had been done was his work, but it was just an assumption—right? He couldn't ask what they knew though, not without arousing even more suspicion.

"Do you understand how idiotic of a thing that is to do?" Peter asked, trying to keep his calm but failing miserably. "Are you trying to ruin your life? You could go to jail for this, Blaine. Is that what you want?"

Blaine almost spat out a sarcastic answer, that yes, clearly he dreamed about going to jail. He wasn't insane though. After a few moments of silence Blaine muttered out a soft, 'No.' Peter had to strain to hear it because it was so soft.

"You are very lucky that you have an uncle in my particular position or that is exactly what you would be looking at right now," Peter continued. "I expect you to take the punishment that you do get and be extremely grateful for it because it could be a hell of a lot worse!"

Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his chair at those words. He wasn't entirely sure what his Uncle was talking about, but from the sounds of it, he wasn't going to jail. He didn't like the sound of 'the punishment you do get' though. What in the world would that be?

"I have spoken with your mother and you are coming to live with Elizabeth and myself," Peter began, trying not to go too in depth with that part. He knew that Blaine was trouble, but he couldn't imagine giving up on the kid like she just did. Peter studied Blaine intently to see what Blaine's reaction would be to those words, but the boy didn't really react at all. He kept a passive face and continued to stare at his hands.

Blaine understood the meaning behind the words, but didn't find himself terribly surprised by them. His relationship with his mother was nothing short of terrible. They hadn't gotten along in years…not since he came out at least. Sure his father passing had created a major rift in the entire family, but that was nothing compared to when he uttered out those three taboo words to her.

"I will explain more to you in the morning when we will sit down with Elizabeth. For now, you just need to know that you are going to be living with us and wearing a tracking anklet with a two mile radius."

Blaine's head snapped back up at that one, and he did not look happy.

"Two mile radius or jail, your choice," Peter said before Blaine could protest.

Blaine sighed and looked back down at his hands. As if there was even a choice there.

"That's what I thought," Peter said, happy that Blaine had given up that battle so quickly. Peter turned toward the two-way mirror and gestured for Diana to come into the room.

A few moments later she walked through the doors, carrying a small sleek black anklet. It had two rectangles on the side, currently dark because the anklet had not been activated. Blaine looked up as she walked into the room and couldn't help but stare at the device that would be his new companion. It looked so harmless, and yet he knew the thing was going to be a big pain in the ass for him. It was still a million times better than jail though—he hoped.

"Please put your foot on the chair next to you," Diana said, her tone not giving any room to argue.

Blaine did as he was asked; awkwardly shifting as much as he could with his hands cuffed to the table in front of him, and put his left foot on the chair. Diana quickly attached the anklet around his ankle and one of the boxes turned green. Blaine glanced at it for a few moments before lowering his foot back to the ground. When he set out on his mission today he never in a million years thought that he would end up in this odd situation. He would have thought someone was crazy if they told him that he would end up with a tracking anklet around his leg, sitting in an FBI interrogation room, handcuffed to the table, with his uncle sitting across from him.

"Alright Blaine, let's go home," Peter said, standing up from the chair. He gestured for one of the agents outside to come in so that they could unlock Blaine's handcuffs. They immediately did so, and the moment that Blaine's wrists were released, he rubbed at the sore red marks on them. Peter was right; there was no way that sitting there with them on was comfortable.