A/N: Hello, lovely readers! In this chapter we're introduced to someone new (and kind of mean!). I'd intended to include a name and an explanation in this chapter, but in the end I decided not to. I'll reveal his identity next chapter, but I'd love to hear your speculation on who the new guy is and what's got Blaine all worked up!

D/C: I won't keep repeating myself. We all know the drill. This whole story is based on Glee and uses Glee characters, neither of which I own.

Neither Hiram nor LeRoy had any idea how things turned South so quickly. One moment they were heading back to their vehicle, the outside air heavy with melancholy, and the next, all hell broke loose and they were physically restraining their son, holding him back by the arms as he cursed and fought like a rabid wolf to free himself of their grip. LeRoy and Hiram were no bodybuilders, but they were two grown men, and Blaine was shorter and smaller than either of them individually. Still, even together and with Bethany helping from the front to talk him down with hands on his chest, the small-statured teen was giving them all a run for their money.

Neither LeRoy nor Hiram had to say it, but they both knew that they each felt equally shocked and terrified. "Blaine, please, just calm down," Hiram pleaded, the panic clear in his tone as he leaned back, straining to keep a solid grip on Blaine as he yanked his arms violently. They'd never seen him like this. They'd never seen him so filled with rage, so singularly focused on an individual target.

From less than 10 feet away a brooding man with gaunt features, stringy brown hair and a brown goatee paced back and forth. The stranger's blue eyes were fixed on Blaine. Hiram could see nothing but veiled hatred in those eyes as a bruise blossomed on the stranger's cheek from the single punch Blaine was able to land before his family had descended on him to pull him off and get between him and the stranger.

"Beth, get out of my way!" growled Blaine through clenched teeth, but his fierce rage was focused on the man and not on Beth. "You bastard!" The Berry men stumbled a bit, nearly loosing footing as Blaine gave another violent jerk with his arms. "I'll fucking kill you!"

Bethany started crying in earnest. "Blaine, please, just listen to me. We can go – let's just go, let's just go," she begged.

Blaine continued to bellow, "This is your fault! You did this. I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!"

"Blaine! Blaine, just stop!" LeRoy said.

The stranger spit on the ground. "You have no idea what you're talking about, you little pervert. I didn't lay a finger on that bitch."

Blaine just struggled harder now. "Liar!"

The stranger stopped pacing and leaned forward. "You don't know a damn thing! You can't prove a damn thing!"

The Berrys had no idea what sparked the exchange, had no idea who this man even was. They'd simply seen their son take off in a sprint and launch his fist at the man. They'd acted on instinct. They were terrified, both for Blaine and for themselves, but luckily their adrenaline coursed as quickly as Blaine's and they were able to keep the struggling boy from breaking their hold.

"You stay the hell away from me! You stay the hell away!"

Blaine's voice was starting to strain and crack.

The stranger glared at him and hissed in annoyance. "Fine. Whatever," he spat scathingly, raising his hands in mocking surrender as he started stepping away. "I should have known you'd turn out a fucking pussy like your bitch mother. You were always a worthless, ungrateful little shit. She should have put your faggot ass down when she had the chance," he hissed.

Blaine was struggling. He wanted to kill him, to tear the bastard limb from limb, but he couldn't move, he couldn't break free from his fathers' holds. LeRoy yanked Blaine back and stepped out as if to put himself between Blaine and the man. He wanted to yell, he wanted to scream at that bastard to never talk about his son that way again, but Hiram pulled him back with his frightened tone, "LeRoy, don't."

Blaine barely noticed, though. For Blaine, everything was red and his pulse pounded loudly in his ears. He couldn't shut him up, he couldn't run away – he had no choice – he had no choice but to stand there and take it. And as his adrenaline started to dissipate, every angry feeling and every ounce of self-loathing started rising quickly to the surface.

His mother was dead, the bastard that killed her got to walk, and what about him? What about Blaine? He was trapped, bound and gagged and forced to just take the abuses hurled his way. He didn't even realize angry tears were streaming down his cheeks as the stranger turned his leather-clad back to the little group to leave. Blaine just watched him retreat, heard his heavy, booted footsteps grow fainter, watched the figure grow smaller and turn the corner and disappear from view, and the farther away he got, the more that Blaine felt the fight begin to drain.

Finally, he was gone, and Blaine had pretty much stilled where he stood, his eyes wide and unfocused as the devastating reality came crashing over him, and when Blaine's face scrunched and he drew his palms to his eyes, then carded his trembling fingers through his hair, he met no real resistance from the Berrys, who though they still had a hold on either side of him, had slackened their grip as Blaine had settled from a violent, raging animal to a restless, frenetic mess. They had no reason to hold him back, the object of Blaine's all-consuming anger having gone, but for some reason they felt like completely letting go of him would be a bad idea, as if the boy might fall into a heap if the pair and Bethany weren't there to prop him up.

LeRoy and Hiram exchanged a glance. Hiram's eyes were wide with worry and fright. LeRoy's were narrowed, a quiet seething anger residing behind them. Hiram's brows furrowed as if contemplating some message that no one else could read or hear. Bethany just shook and sobbed quietly, her hands still clasping the front of Blaine's shirt, and the boy with red-rimmed eyes, who only seemed to just then notice or see her, moved to wrap his arms around his friend.

She grasped onto him tightly as he softly shushed her. "It's ok, Beth. It's fine. I'm fine." And at that, the girl inhaled a hiccupping sob and buried her face in the shoulder of his jacket. The Berry men finally let Blaine go, though LeRoy kept one hand in contact with Blaine's back.

LeRoy had wanted nothing more than to beat the living crap out of that guy with the too-long-hair and stupid goatee. How dare he say those things about my son! But he'd kept himself in check. He'd had to, as painful as it was, because they couldn't get arrested, couldn't risk Blaine getting hurt, and even enraged, LeRoy knew there would be nothing holding Blaine back from keeping his promise to kill the man if not for him and his husband physically restraining him. So he'd stopped himself. But now, as he was left standing in a funeral home parking lot, with his free hand clenched to stop it from trembling so violently, he wanted to know who the hell it was who'd said those things, who'd spoken those horrible words. And moreover, why?

"Blaine," he began, his tone pleading for an answer before the question was even out. "Who was –"

But Blaine cut him off.

"Can we just go?" he interrupted quickly, his narrowed gaze whipping around to focus on LeRoy. There was anger there, annoyance. A little hurt, too. But LeRoy saw a flash of vulnerability, too. "Please," Blaine tried again, the desperation he felt now cracking his tone. "Let's just go."

LeRoy looked as if he were about to answer, but then he and Hiram looked at each other, and by the time he'd turned his eyes back on Blaine his mouth was resolutely closed. He simply nodded. And inside, Blaine felt a sudden wave of relief and guilt that very nearly overflowed the dam.

Kurt put on his best bitch face, held his head high, and strutted down the hall with a steady glare that swept over the mass of nameless students. It was his mask. It the costume he wore when beneath that, beneath that thin, outer layer, he was terrified. His pulse quickened and his bitch glare doubled as a warning and a way to keep an eye on as many people in the halls with him as possible.

"Hey, Kurt, wait up!"

The teen boy's breath hitched and he whipped around, startled for only a split-second out of his façade before the mask fell smoothly over his features again. His eyes locked on a grinning blond boy jogging towards him with a book and notebook tucked in his hand. Kurt tightened his grip on the books he held hanging at his front as Sam pulled up next to him and clapped him on the back.

Kurt shuddered, and a mild panic started swirling in his chest when Sam kept his hand on Kurt's shoulder as they started walking (not that Sam's momentum gave him much choice). He turned his head away from Sam to catch a glipse of his hand in the corner of his eye before looking over at the other singer. God, he was so close, his lips were so close and his arm was draped around him like Puck's whenever the mohawked teen was leading him to the dumpsters… No, don't think about it! he chided himself. And that's when he realized Sam was talking to him.

"So I just wanted to thank you for yesterday, Kurt. It was really nice of you to say all that stuff. I mean, you didn't really have to, and the other Glee guys sort of told me the same thing but it kinda means more coming from you cause like, you're a dude that likes other dudes…" Sam furrowed his brow as he said it, like he was trying to sort out if he'd said what he was trying to express, but seemed oblivious to the danger of talking about these sorts of things in the open – with people watching. Kurt felt his cheeks color and he stopped walking to turn towards Sam.

"Sam," he said, with a nervous glance at a group of girls that seemed to be whispering to each other and over to a Rugby player who seemed to have taken notice of them as well. His eyes locked back on Sam. "Are you sure you want to be discussing this now? Here?"

Sam straightened his stance, his brow furrowing further. "What do you mean?"

Kurt coughed up a nervous laugh. "I – I just –"

"Sam!"

Both Kurt and Sam whipped their heads around at the sound of Quinn Fabray's voice. The cheerleader had a fierce expression on her face and she approached the pair with folded arms. Her lips spread into a smile but her eyes stayed narrowed as she looked between the pair.

Kurt caught and held her gaze. She held out a hand to Sam and wiggled her dainty fingers. "Come on, Sam," she said in a softened tone. "Walk me to class." She then smiled indulgently at the blond.

Kurt looked at him and he saw the dopey smile that had spread across his features. Kurt heard him stutter, "okay," in response. His eyes widened slightly. "I'll catch you later, Kurt," he said and without really looking for or waiting on a response, he led the girl away. Their hands swung loosely between them and he felt the flush rising again when Quinn shot him one last glare over her shoulder. Stay away from my boyfriend, it was saying. Kurt felt his anger rise as he gave his surroundings a quick once over and headed on his way. Thanks, bitch, I hear you loud and clear.