This was nice – just hanging out at the mall of all places. Perhaps it was the slightly oppressive sameness of the Dalton polyester, or maybe it was the fact that his epic performance of Don't Cry for Me Argentina had failed to earn him a coveted solo spot that had prompted his need for a bit of retail therapy, but Kurt was enjoying himself.

Blaine was even being a good sport about carrying what were mostly Kurt's bags. As they came upon the GAP, Kurt spotted the sign proclaiming "30% off Storewide" and though the GAP wasn't his favorite place to shop, they usually had some interesting accessories. "Oh, Blaine, let's go in there. He started for the store, but stopped when he realized Blaine wasn't following him. "Blaine, come on," he said, confused by the other teens unwillingness to go into the store that seemed, from Kurt's trained eye, to have provided basically his entire back-to-school wardrobe.

But Blaine didn't move, and Kurt started back towards his friend, who wasn't really looking at him anymore. "Blaine," he asked cautiously. "Are – is everything OK?"

"I – I just need to sit down for a second. Turning and heading back towards where they came from, Blaine led Kurt back to a wooden bench, dropped the bags by the gigantic potted plant, and sat down. He seemed to be taking deliberately slow breaths and closed his eyes, and the longer this went on, the greater Kurt's concern. He set his own bags down gently on the bench and sat down himself. After a few minutes, he tried again.

"Blaine? Are you OK?"

There was genuine concern in his voice, and Blaine nodded shakily. "Yeah. I'm – I'm fine. I just do not want to go in there, OK? That's – I just can't."

Even to Kurt, this seemed like an extreme reaction over a storewide sale. So he guessed there was some other reason why Blaine was freaking out about the GAP. "What's going on?" he asked. "Something happened. I can tell. You can tell me, Blaine."

Blaine felt his heart tighten in his chest. This was not how he wanted to be feeling right now. His hands gripped together tightly because he was certain if he didn't physically prevent it, his hands would be shaking right now.

"I – lied to you."

Blaine looked at Kurt, who seemed stricken, but didn't respond.

"Remember when I told you I ran into a doorframe and split my lip?"

Kurt nodded dumbly.

"Well," Blaine said with a sigh. "What I didn't tell you is that someone helped me into that doorframe." He hung his head, not wanting to look at whatever Kurt's reaction might be. He'd seen it all before. Disgust, pity, judgment – he didn't want to see any of it in this moment.

"Jeremiah and I got into a fight. We were – dating. Sort of. I was at his apartment and I – wanted to leave. He wanted me to stay." Blaine risked a glance at Kurt who, for all his attention, surprisingly, did not seem to be displaying disgust, pity, or judgment. "He wanted me to stay and do….things." He let the emphasis speak for the types of "things" Jeremiah had tried to make him do.

"So, when I tried to leave, he pushed me."

"Into a doorframe."

Blaine smiled mirthlessly, and confirmed with a nod, "Into a doorframe."

He continued, "I defended myself. I got in a few good hits and got out of there. At first I was afraid he'd call the police on me or something. But – I guess he hasn't. I just – I really don't want to see him right now." He turned pleading eyes on Kurt and begged him, silently, to just understand.

"OK," said Kurt. "OK. No GAP. We can… grab a pretzel or something instead," he suggested. Blaine grinned and Kurt matched his grin. But before Blaine could get up, Kurt grabbed for his forearm. "Blaine, wait."

Kurt hesitated, but finally said, "What happened to you with Jeremiah? It wasn't OK. Take it from someone who tried to keep something huge and serious to himself. Those kinds of secrets can make your entire life fall apart. When I told my dad about what Karofsky was doing, I realized that by trying to protect him, I was hurting myself, and in the end, that hurt him more than honesty ever could have.

"I know you aren't as close to your dads as I am to mine. But you need to tell someone – an adult someone – about what happened. Holding this kind of thing in isn't good for anyone. I only wish I'd realized it sooner."

Emotion played on Blaine's face. He felt a lump expanding in his throat but swallowed it back. He nodded slowly, then said with a sigh. "Thanks, I'll – I'll think about it."

Kurt smiled, satisfied that at least some good had come out of his own nightmarish experience. "OK." He shrugged his right shoulder in a very Kurt-like gesture. "Aunt Annie's, here we come."

Blaine couldn't help grinning and they both stood up. As they headed back in the direction of the GAP, Blaine glanced in the store, unable to stop himself from at least assessing the threat. What he saw, though, made nearly stop breathing. Jeremiah was at the checkout counter and he was definitely flirting. From where he stood, maybe 20 feet away, Blaine even thought he saw Jeremiah wink. Blaine grabbed Kurt's arm to stop him walking forward and watched, just for a moment, as the boy Jeremiah was helping turned around. Blaine saw the flush in his cheeks and the grin on his face and the very obvious fact that the boy was no older than Kurt.

Face set now in anger and determination, he shot a glare at the back of Jeremiah's head because the assistant manager and turned around and was folding clothes on the back counter behind the registers.

In that moment, Blaine decided Kurt was right. Maybe it wouldn't help anything. Maybe it wouldn't do anything other than split the burden he'd been carrying. But he had to tell somebody.

Blaine swallowed thickly, but his throat felt dry. He felt so nervous he could barely think. The last time he had done this – come out to a parent – things had not gone so well at all.

Kurt watched him expectantly, and with a compassionate smile, nodded. You can do this.

Blaine finally looked up. Hiram and LeRoy were seated on the couch waiting anxiously for Blaine to talk.

"I asked you both here because there's something I need to tell you. Two somethings, actually." He stopped, the words catching in his throat. He didn't know why this was so hard. The Berrys themselves were gay. Obviously they wouldn't have a problem with it, right? But the sound of his grandfather's homophobic rants rattled around in his brain. The way his mother looked at him after she knew was seared into his mind's eye. "I, um, I'm g-gay. I'm sorry," he said, apologizing quickly, and almost automatically.

LeRoy and Hiram's jaws slacked and they exchanged one of their patented silent conversation. Then LeRoy's face split into a grin. "Oh is that all? Blaine, son, you have nothing at all to be sorry for." He made a move to stand, but Kurt held up a hand Blaine didn't see and warned LeRoy off.

Blaine shook his head. "No, that – that's not all." He looked down at his hands. "Over the last month, I've been lying to you. I've been seeing someone. At least, I was. He um," Blaine hesitated, taking in a steadying breath. "He's the one that gave me the split lip."

Suddenly, the mood in the room changed. The men across from the teens grew tense. LeRoy placed a calming hand on Hiram's thigh. "Who, Blaine?" he asked. "Who gave you the split lip."

"His name is J-jeremiah. We met him at the GAP."

LeRoy felt his blood begin to boil with rage. That straw-topped chin-up had split his son's lip? He knew he didn't like that prick. He knew something was wrong with him. And before he even knew it, he realized he was standing and it was Hiram's turn to calm him. "LeRoy, honey, we need to sit – and let Blaine finish. Kurt was also on his feet, though there was a frightened deer-in-headlights look in his eyes, but Blaine was the only one of them still sitting. In fact, he'd curled his arms around his stomach and was hunching over, as if he thought LeRoy's murderous rage was directed at him.

LeRoy ran his hands over his face and took a few calming breaths. He shook off the instinct to tear that GAP employee limb from limb and said, bringing his hands together in a prayer position, "Blaine, I'm sorry. The thought of someone hurting you made me feel very strong anger towards the individual that harmed you, but I am going to sit back down and listen to the rest of what you have to say."

Hiram beside him nodded along, then smiled, pleased that his partner remembered the phrasing from their last round of couples' counseling – the one that saved their marriage after LeRoy overreacted to Hiram's changing the color of the walls in the den without consulting him. It wasn't that he didn't feel as "strongly" as LeRoy, but he'd seen Blaine's horror-stricken expression, and he was willing to bet LeRoy had not.

"It's OK, Blaine – go on and tell us everything. We're going to listen and we support you, 100%. No matter what." Maybe he was overdoing it, but this kid – his kid – had never had unconditional support from a parent. In fact, he was pretty sure his mother (God rest her soul) had put Blaine in some pretty bad situations throughout his young life. So, he put on his supportive nonjudgmental therapist mask and smiled compassionately while he waited for Blaine to gather himself.

Blaine's muscles felt poised and ready for work. Every part of his body felt tense. He hadn't expected the anger from them – not really, and his first instinct had told him that the anger was directed at him. It had taken Kurt whispering quietly in his ear. "It's OK Blaine. Relax. We're all here for you," to get him to look up again and see Hiram and LeRoy back on the couch, Hiram's arm hooked in LeRoy's and their opposite hands gripped together for comfort.

Blaine exhaled a shaky breath. "It – I think he – was going to try and, and, force me. To do stuff with him. He was always like that – just kind of – pushy, you know? But he'd never been violent about it. Not until the night before Kurt's dad's wedding."

Blaine exchanged a glance with Kurt who, he realized, had placed a hand on his shoulder. He'd vaguely wondered why his left shoulder felt less tension than the rest of his body while he was telling his story.

"Blaine, I want to thank you," Hiram started, "for telling us this."

LeRoy nodded grimly. Though he was staring at the coffee table, he said calmly, "Yes, we know this wasn't easy and we really appreciate your honesty and trust in us."

Blaine, feeling like he just might cry from relief, tightened his jaw and nodded.

"Blaine, can you tell us, how old is Jeremiah?" Hiram asked.

Blaine shrugged. "Uh, I don't know for sure. I think he goes to Rhodes, so, 19 I think."

LeRoy's brows seemed to furrow more deeply at that, almost like he was disturbed by how young the man was. He nodded. "OK, Blaine, thank you."

Blaine stood up and began walking to his bedroom, his friend, Kurt in tow. But something – something about what he'd said was niggling at him. He stopped and turned back. "Oh, um. I remembered. He had a pretty steady supply of alcohol at his place so…he might have been 21." He shrugged.

"We both saw him, Hiram." LeRoy was pacing in their bedroom and Hiram was perched on the bed with one leg crossed casually over the other. There was nothing casual, though, about this conversation. "Tell me he didn't look at least 23 to you."

Hiram shrugged. "I don't know, babe. Ever since I hit 40, everyone younger than 30 just looks like a teenager to me."

LeRoy pounced on that, a manic grin splitting his face. "Exactly. And even I noticed he looked much older than our son."

LeRoy returned to his pacing, and Hiram shrugged. "I just don't know if involving Hal is a good idea."

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" LeRoy asked, intentionally hiding the defensiveness he felt.

"Because what if this turns into a media circus or there ends up being a court date. We already know he's going to have to testify about that degenerate that killed Chrissy if that murdering bastard doesn't take the plea deal. Do we really want to put Blaine through that here, too?"

LeRoy stopped pacing. For a long minute he just pondered the issue, stroking his chin as he did. "OK – how about this. We ask Hal to look into his age first. If it turns out he's really 19, we'll drop it. But if he's in his 20s and preying on teenagers, Hiram, we have to do something."

Hiram chewed on his bottom lip and heaved a sigh. "You know what, fine. OK. But just a background check. If he's too young for a statutory rape charge, we cannot even consider putting Blaine through that kind of stress. Not right now. And if" Hiram added, his scolding finger pointed at LeRoy. "If it turns out he's not just an idiot kid and is actually a predator then, and only then will we find out what Blaine wants to do. We are not going to force him into this, LeRoy."

LeRoy nodded and raised his hands in surrender. "Understood."