I sat with my hand securely tucked in Tyler's beneath the dinner table. The rest of our day had gone in relative peace, though I could still see the gears turning behind Tyler's eyes and the temptation that tugged at him every time his phone rang and his fingers itched to pick it up. But he hadn't, though by putting it off, he was essentially holding the unavoidable conversation over our heads like a deep gray cloud. We were simply waiting for the rain to leak out, slowly at first then constantly and mercilessly.

My lower half of my body was still a bit sore, though I'd slowly become more mobile throughout the day. It was like breaking in a shoe: a process. Only, I was the one who was broken in and trying to relearn how to move, so more like an infant. A newborn deer. An explorer. But, during the day between our embraces and the nap Tyler had taken, I'd texted my fathers, giving them a vague, yet telling text about what was going on. Not enough to tell the whole story since it wasn't mine to tell, but enough to let them know it was serious.

We didn't make it to dinner. Something happened and I think Ty will need to stay over a bit longer.

That was all I said, and by the looks on my dads' faces as they sat across from us at the table, they understood the magnitude of those words. It was only the four of us. The sun had long dipped beneath the horizon. My siblings were tired from their travels and it was a school night, however, Tyler and I were wide awake, minds racing not only with whatever situation we were about to face, but with school as well. We were out. No more sneaking to the studio and having to hide, no more looking over our shoulders. Now we faced a new challenge: possible looks of disdain, insults murmured under the breath, pressure. It didn't help that all of this was happening the final week before we headed off to All-State. All of the stress was pressing in on us, heating us up and compressing us like a pressure cooker.

"Do either one of you want to tell us what's going on? We're worried," Papa softly said, his words hesitant yet filled to the brim with sincerity.

"The looks on your faces are doing little to comfort us by the way," Padre said with a slight chuckle but it was void of any humor or warmth.

I gently caressed Tyler's bruised bandaged knuckles under the table silently telling him that I was in his corner and would support him whether or not he decided to speak up.

His grip on my hand tightened as he let out a breath. "My...I don't have a good relationship with my mom. She, uh...she sent me to conversion therapy for a long time after she found out that I wasn't straight. My dad had no idea and got me out as soon as he found out. But.. now she's in town. I-I don't know why and frankly I don't care. She just brings back so many emotions and memories that I've tried to hard to push down. Every time I see her face I relieve everything on an endless loop and it pisses me off how much power she has over me with just a look, but I can't fight her no matter how hard I try and–"

His frantic words were cut off as my Papa wrapped his arms around Tyler and pulled him into a hug. Somehow between the time Papa had asked the question and Tyler's response, he'd gotten up and made his way over to him.

I saw the pain in my father's eyes as he feverishly blinked back the moisture that pooled in his eyes. I could practically see the painful memories that were being revived from their deathbed in his head as he rocked Tyler who merely held onto my dad as if he were the only life jacket in the middle of a bottomless sea. "You poor, poor boy," Papa whispered.

Also to my surprise, Tyler eagerly wrapped his arms around my father, holding him tightly and crying into his stomach. Papa gently rubbed his back and hair. I could see the muscles pulling and popped underneath his pale skin, showing how tightly he was holding on to Tyler. "Let it out, son, let it out."

And Tyler did. He cried and cried and cried in a way that made my heart ache. On one hand, another bout of hatred moved through me toward his mother, but on the other, I wanted to do nothing but wrap my arms around him too. Have his tears soaking through my shirt. Feel his sobs burrow into my stomach. But I couldn't. This was a support I couldn't give him, but my Papa could. My Papa and my Padre. They understood his pain and confusion. Maybe not in the same exact ways, but in the ways that matter. A way that I, fortunately, never had to experience: the betrayal of a parent.

"I unfortunately know how it feels to be so hurt and scarred by someone you love, especially a parent," Papa softly said once Tyler's cries become mere uneven breaths.

"You...You do?"

Papa nodded as he slowly unwrapped his arms from around Tyler, watching Tyler as if removing his touch would cause him to break down again. After seeing that Tyler was okay, or as okay as he could be given the circumstances, Papa fully let go. My hand instantly found his again in an effort to offer him the support that I had."Noah does too. We've both been there."

"We both know how badly it hurts and how long it can stay with you," Padre chimed in as Papa sat down next to him again. Tyler rested his head on my shoulder and I quickly wrapped my arm around him. I held him firmly enough to support him, but not too tightly that it would feel like I was smothering him or babying him. Neither one of us liked that too much: the feeling of being tip-toed around.

"Our journey wasn't an easy one, nor was it pretty the whole time," Padre continued as he slid his hand into Papa's. "I mean, it started out amazing. God, it was like it was straight out of a storybook people read as children. We were so happy and in love, so in love. But, to make an extremely long story short, I lived with my grandmother, Nonna, when I was younger because both of my parents died. I also played soccer and I was pretty good. I was the captain with my best friend Connor, who Addison also knows as Uncle Connor, and we were basically the captains and the Coach since we didn't officially have one after our last one left for some reason or another. Anyway, that was putting a financial strain on my Nonna so she was making me get a job at the local pizzeria that was owned by another Italian family who she invited to dinner with us that day. And lo and behold, Madison was the son of the owner. Madison and I got closer together through work until we secretly got together and started dating, kind of like you two.

"We did it because I come from a super religious family, super Catholic, and I was afraid of how my church members and my Nonna would react if they found out. So we basically kept our relationship under wraps, and though I could tell it annoyed Madison, I'm still super grateful that he was patient enough to go through it with me instead of getting frustrated or leaving or trying to pressure me into coming out before I was ready. That's one of the things that made me fall in love with him." He turned and looked at Papa, an adoring expression spreading across his face which Papa returned. "It also helped that he made me feel like I was the most important person in the world, even more important than himself."

"Because you are," Papa affirmed as he gently gripped Padre's chin, though he made no move to kiss him, thank God. But as I watched them, I was reminded of Tyler and myself. Tyler had been patient with me, especially through my hot and cold moments, and I with him. We were each other's support system and we got out of our relationship exactly what we put into it: everything. "I was never too upset about it though, being under wraps. I was more upset about the idea of the struggle you were going through between the two parts of who you are rather than how you were dealing with it. I was never mad at you for not being ready. I hope you know that."

Padre nodded, his grin growing impossibly larger. "I know. I'm just saying how I felt at the moment." Padre turned and looked at us again. "We were doing really good. I started spending more and more time at his house and less at mine. And it was going really good until, um...until it wasn't." An invisible weight was tied to the end of Padre's sentence, a weight that was tugging at the soles of everyone's feet, dragging us deeper and deeper into the sea of painful memories and reopened wounds. It was a thickness, a seriousness that you couldn't ignore even if you tried.

Feeling the shift in the air, Tyler said, "Thank you, but, um, you don't have to keep going. I'm sorry if I brought up any bad memories."

Padre shook his head. "No, son, it's fine. You're a part of this family, so you deserve to know this story."

"Plus, you need to know what craziness you're getting yourself into," Papa said with a chuckle, but it wasn't a real one, but instead, it was an empty one. One Papa was using as armor the way Tyler did when he wanted to hide his true emotions.

"So...it was the same day that my church had that homophobic sermon. I went to Madison's house to try and calm down because I was so shaken up and hurt. But then his dad called me in to work." Padre swallowed before he took a deep breath. "He'd found security footage of us kissing at the restaurant and instead of talking to Madison himself, he put all the blame on me for supposedly making him gay, or whatever BS reasoning he came up with." His jaw clenched and he made no move to continue speaking.

My chest became tight and I bit the inside of my bottom lip. Seeing my fathers struggle to retell the story after all these years reignited the hatred I had for Papa's dad. He was a monster and always would be even now that he was six feet deep.

Papa pressed a gentle kiss to Padre's cheek before he gently rubbed Padre's back. "He made Noah break up with me," Papa softly said. "He didn't want to believe that I was gay so he targeted Noah. He gave him an ultimatum: to break up with me or he'd out Noah to his church, his Nonna, and basically anyone else he could get his hands on. It...It hurt really bad, for lack of better terms. I mean, I suddenly got this break-up text after what was the best day of my life at the time with a guy I really liked. I felt crushed. Like I'd done something wrong. After not hearing from him or seeing him for days and days, I kind of fell into a bit of a depression. I needed closure that I just couldn't get. I wanted to run after him and beg him to take me back, but I respected what I thought was what he wanted.

"But...um, luckily, Connor found me at work and came up with a plan to reunite us and thankfully it worked. By that time, I was masking my sadness in anger and I confronted Noah. At first he wouldn't tell me what happened, but eventually he cracked and told me everything about my dad. I was so angry and hurt and confused. So many emotions tore through me at once that I didn't know how to process them all, so I focused on the one I thought I could deal with the best: anger. I called my dad and basically told him that I knew what he did and that I hated him. I thought I was standing up for myself and for Noah. I thought I was doing something that would help both of us heal by cutting off that toxic bastard. And you know what I got in return?"

Tyler shook his head, though the answer was hanging over all of us like a gray cloud that was waiting to unleash its hellish furry on each one of us and soak us to the bone. "I got the crap beat out of me. By my own father. He just kept going and going and going and going, and I couldn't bring myself to hit him back. Not even when blood started filling my mouth or black dots filled my vision or I heard my bones crack. I was so blinded and taken back by the fact that the man who raised me and told me that he loved me every time we got done talking on the phone was causing me such an immeasurable amount of pain over something that I didn't choose. And even though I've grown from it I...it still haunts me. I'm not saying this to scare you or anything, I'm just being honest with you, but that moment is the reason why I have such severe trust issues when it comes to people outside of Noah and our kids. Even now that he's dead and he'd apologized numerous times, that moment still hangs over me. It pokes at me like a splinter that you can feel but never quite locate so you can pull it out, you know? It did after we won the trial, it did the day I proposed to Noah, it did when we adopted Addi. It just...it does."

He then looked at Padre. "But it sure as hell helps when you have someone you love and you know loves you by your side to help you through it and listen to you and cry with you and get angry for you and just be in your corner when you need them most. At least, that's what Noah did for me and I tried to do the same for him."

Padre nodded in agreement. "And you did far more than that, Mads," he comforted before he turned back to Tyler. "I went through a similar thing, but instead of my father beating me, it was my teammates from soccer. Mr. Williams had told my teammates about Madison and I soon after he attacked Madison. So, to make a long story short, they beat the crap out of me because they said they didn't want a fag leading them as captain. Luckily, Madison hadn't left the parking lot and one of my teammates got him, but someone, I don't remember who, kicked me in the head so hard that I blacked out and lost my memory. If I'm honest, I still don't remember all of it, but I do remember the pain, both physical and emotional.

"They cracked my ribs and hurt me far deeper than I'd ever been hurt before. It was such a strange feeling knowing that the same people who promised to be your family at your parents' funeral be the same people that beat you over something you didn't choose, you know? But something good did come out of it I guess: my Nonna finally accepted me, and we were able to take everyone to court for assault, hate crimes, all that stuff. And we won. It was beyond gratifying, but jail time and victory doesn't erase the scars. Nothing really does. And that pain stays with you. I mean, you get better at dealing with it over time and you get better at prioritizing the good in life over the bad, but it sticks with you. And that's okay."

Papa nodded. "I agree. It's okay to hurt and have scars. It's okay to be triggered, it's okay to not feel okay. What we've gone through– what you've gone through is something that is unfortunately common, but it doesn't make it any less valid or hard." Papa reached across the table and grabbed Tyler's hand holding it tight. "I know that you don't know us very well and we're still in those awkward interrogation stages, but we are here for you, Tyler. This family, this house is a safe place for you and is always open when and if you need it. And I know it's hard, especially when you feel betrayed by someone you trusted and it seems like the world is throwing its worst at you all at once, but it gets better. I know how cliche it sounds, but trust me it does, especially when you surround yourself with people who truly love you." His eyes flickered to mine before they rested on Ty.

Tyler nodded as he let out a breath. "Wow...I never knew. Thank you for telling me. It feels...comforting to talk to people who have had similar experiences."

Papa gave his hand one final squeeze before letting go. "No problem whatsoever, Tyler. I know that I could've used it when I was younger. Noah too."

"Agreed," Padre said as he stood up and made his way to the freezer, peering down each hallway he passed as he did so. "Alright, don't tell the others that we're eating this without them or they'll freak," he said in a low voice before he pulled out a tub of the richest, most heavenly chocolate ice cream from Ice Cream Planet. Ice Cream Planet ice cream had gotten our family as a whole through some tough times, and now Tyler was going to experience its wonders too.

"I know it's late and whatnot, but I can't let you go straight to sleep after such a heavy conversation. It doesn't sit right with me. So, like any other responsible adult, I'm going to let you drown yourself in lactose and diabetic triggers." Padre pulled out a couple of bowls from the cabinet as he held the tub under his arm.

Papa grinned as he turned to Tyler. "I know I'm going to sound childish saying this, but this ice cream changes lives."

"I can second that," I agreed.

"Third that!" Padre chimed in, causing Tyler to grin, his dimple making its presence known.

"Well I guess I need my life changed right about now, and ice cream seems like the perfect solution, doesn't it, Addi?"

A grin tugged at the edge of my lips the way it did anytime his brown eyes met mine, and I nodded. I still couldn't process how completely and utterly whipped I was for a boy I didn't even know existed a year ago. Now he was more important than anything.

My fathers smiled down at us before Padre slid the bowls and ice cream toward us. "Maybe in the morning Addi can make some of our coffee blend for you with an authentic italian touch. But this will suffice for now, it is a school night after all and the last thing we need is for you two to start bouncing off of the walls."

I rolled my eyes, though I graciously took the ice cream and popped it open.

"Thank you, Mr. Madison and Mr. Noah. I really appreciate it, and I promise I'll get out of your hair in the–"

"Nope, I'm going to stop you right there," Papa said as he put his hand up. "There's no need to rush. We love having you. There's no need to rush the healing process especially after something as heavy as what you've gone through. You can stay as long as you'd like and we'll take you back when you're truly ready. I'll just need to contact your father in the morning before the police come banging on our door." A light chuckle tagged itself to the end of my father's sentence before he approached me and kissed my forehead. "Goodnight boys. Let us know if you need anything and I mean anything, alright?"

I nodded. "Will do. Goodnight, Papa."

Papa then hugged Tyler as Padre followed suit.

"Goodnight," Tyler said as they exited the kitchen hand in hand. After a few moments, he let out a breath.

"How are you feeling?" I softly asked, though the question was stupid.

"Honestly? I feel kind of...relieved. It really felt good talking to other people who have gone through something similar to what I have gone through, but it also makes me feel so heavy. The pain we all went through, not just your dads and me, but the ripple effect it's had on you and your siblings, you can feel it. It's draining and sad but...I'm glad I got it out."

"That's good, babe. I'm happy for you," I softly comforted as I kissed his forehead.

"Thanks," he said as he gave my hand a squeeze. "I'm just glad we were already sitting here before your family got home or else we would've been caught. You would've given us away."

I grinned at the utterly inappropriate joke he was making, but I was just happy to see him smile, even if his joke was nothing more than a fragile coping mechanism. Playing along, I rolled my eyes as I pried open the tub of frozen heaven. "Alright, keep poking at me and you won't get any next time, you understand?"

"Oh, so there's going to be a next time, huh?" He asked as he snaked his arms around my waist.

"Not if you keep this up. I won't give you any ice cream either."

"No, no, no, babe, I'm sorry," he laughed into my neck before he gently started kissing it.

"Ty, stop. Everyone's sleeping and we can't wake them up," I lightly chastised, though I wasn't able to suppress the giggles