Mr Anderson's office was surprisingly small. It was a little room upstairs and looked like it had previously been a storage cupboard. The study had been built into this cavity as if it was an afterthought. It was not particularly ominous or imposing. This was the same for Mr Anderson. The girls had worked up an image of Blaine's father in their minds as a large suit wearing, cigar smoking mafia boss. The actual Mr Anderson was anything but. He was quite a tall slender man whose once curly hair (very much like Blaine's), was faded grey. His suit was black which hid the fact that it had not been washed in the past three days. The man's face was the same shape as Blaine's, but his eyes and nose were sharper.

"Danni, I need you to take an extra shift and oh! "Mr Anderson looked up to find two strangers in his doorway. "Who are you?"

"Mr Anderson, we are friends with your son." Rachel introduced herself.

"And friends with Kurt, which as we understand, you spoke to him over the phone."

"Briefly." Mr Anderson seemed distracted. He held a cluster of papers kin his hand. "Listen, girls, I really need to get this sorted."

"Please, we won't take much of your time. Rachel pleaded. "We just want to know where Blaine is. You see, Kurt, he's so worried that he's-"

"Your son shouldn't have to be terrified of his father finding out he has a boyfriend." Santana butted in with rage she had been holding in since she stepped into the tiny office. "What sort of person are you that you can't accept your son for who he is!" She flung her hands up in the air. "Now Kurt is in tears because Blaine won't speak to him, all because Blaine is terrified of telling you about a wonderful person in his life. I would never have expected such-"

"Girls!" Mr Anderson bellowed before Santana could launch further into her scolding.

"Blaine is not in the country at the moment."

"You sent him away?" Rachel looked horrified.

"Of course, I didn't, well technically I did, but not because he is gay." Mr Anderson looked like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Granted I haven't been the most accepting father in that respect, certain recent events have put things in perspective for me. The reason that Blaine isn't in contact with his…boyfriend…" Mr Anderson tested the word on his tongue. "Is because he is with his mother… in Argentina."

"What? Why didn't he tell Kurt?"

"Blaine's mother had a stroke while she was travelling." Mr Anderson looked visibly upset. He wiped a tear from his eye. "She has been in intensive care. I sent Blaine there as soon as I found out, knowing he would want to be with her. I'm sorry my son didn't tell you, he finds it hard to talk about these things."

"So, this has nothing to do with Blaine being gay?" Santana clarified before she let her rage go.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Right now, I have actual problems to worry about, like who is going to take care of the club while I try and arrange a flight to South America so I can be with my ex-wife. You know what? I'll send this Kurt fellow over too. Blaine would like that, wouldn't he? I want to make it up to him. I said somethings to him when he was younger, he's still holding onto that, isn't he? Would he like that? Am I overstepping here? Oh, God, what if he hates me even more?" Mr Anderson raked his hands through his silver hair with genuine concern. Rachel's face broke into a smile. They had been so wrong about this sweet man.

"Kurt would love that." Rachel cooed.

"Blaine will love it too." Santana confirmed. "It will show him that you do care."

"Of course, I care." Mr Anderson sighed with regret. His mind was racing with the events of the past few days. Questions of his own mortality, memories of his wife and son swarmed through his mind. what he was experiencing that phenomenon where one looks back at one's life and realises that what he once perceived as burdens are actually blessings. He couldn't lose either of them.

"Tell this Kurt fellow to pack his bags and warn him that when I arrive, I expect a proper introduction."

The next thing Kurt knew, he was on a plane about to land in Argentina. Kurt had never been out of the country before and he was wracked with nerves. Kurt had not met Mr Anderson yet, but was assured by Santana and Rachel that he was a nice man. He would be joining them a day or so, once he had managed to sort out the rest of his business. He had said that Blaine would want to be the one to introduce them. Kurt had to agree. With his small red suitcase at heel he made it to the hospital. Fortunately, Mr Shuster's Spanish classes came in handy and he managed to communicate with the receptionist and find the current room. Before he entered a wave of nerves made his hands shake. What if Blaine didn't want him around? He remembered what it was like when his father had been in hospital. Kurt had pushed everyone away. He didn't think he could handle that rejection. He suddenly had a flush of guilt for how had had treated his friends.

Kurt knocked on the door.

"Come in." It was Blaine's voice. It sounded raw with crying. Kurt crept through the doorway. Blaine wasn't looking at him. His eyes were turned to his mother in her bed. Her hair was the colour blond hair goes when it fades with age. Her face was youthful though with a few crows' feet and laugh lines. She would have been described as aging gracefully if it weren't for the white pallor to her complexion.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice broke the monotonous beeping echoing through the room. Blaine turned his head and his eyes widened. Surely, he was dreaming or perhaps a sleep deprived delusion, or jetlag. What ever it was, Kurt was here.

"Kurt, Kurt, my Mum…" Blaine couldn't even say it in person. He just waved his hands and balled his fists. Kurt swooped upon his boyfriend and embraced him in his arms. Kurt knew the feeling all too well. Blaine's' arms were incredibly tight around his small frame and made it hard to breath. Kurt pushed Blaine's head to his chest, letting his cotton shirt soak up every tear Blaine had been holding in. The boy smelt like he hadn't showered in days and his hair was crusty with hair gel that hadn't been washed out. Kurt rocked him side to side like a small child.

"I'm sorry." Blaine muttered after a while.

"Shh, you don't need to apologise."

"But I do Kurt. I pushed you away. I didn't mean to. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't bare to say it out loud, I still can't. I was on a plane and I couldn't call you. I'm sorry." Kurt doused Blaine's forehead with kisses.

"How can you be here?"

"I'll explain later." Kurt assured. "You haven't showered in days, have you?"

"No."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"I can't remember."

"Let's start with a shower, then." Kurt pulled Blaine to his feet and kissed the last of his tears from his cheeks. His eyes were puffy. He had never looked so young and vulnerable in his life.

"I can't leave her." Blaine spoke.

"I'll be right here. I won't leave her side. I promise." Kurt pressed his palm to Blaine's stubbled cheek. He liked the stubble but knew Blaine would feel fresher if he shaved too. "Go." Kurt had to push Blaine towards the shower door.

Blaine did as he was commanded, still wondering if this was a dream. What told him that he was in fact awake was the sound coming from the other side of the bathroom door. It was Kurt. He was singing. No imagination of his could ever conjure up such a heavenly sound.

Blaine showered and brushed his teeth knowing that his mother was safe. The stroke had hit her hard and had paralysed the left side of her body. She was also extremely tired and spent the past days drifting in and out of deep sleep. He still had so many questions for Kurt, like how had he gotten here? Who had told him about his mother?

"You have a beautiful voice." Blaine spoke as he entered the room again. Nothing had changed except Kurt was holding his mothers' hand with as much tenderness as if she were his own. It was then that he noticed that Kurt was crying.

"I sang that song for my Dad when he was in a coma." Kurt replied. "It means a lot to me."

"I had no idea you went through that." Blaine felt terribly guilty for putting Kurt in this situation now, knowing it was dredging up old memories.

"My mum was a Beatles fan and used to sing it to me when we were out somewhere so I would hold her hand and wouldn't get lost." Kurt smiled to himself at the memory.

"Mum would make me play piano while she painted. She loves to paint. That's why she travels so much, so she can sketch the world." Blaine pointed to a black folio in the corner of the room. These were all his mothers travel bags.

"She can show me them when she wakes up." Kurt remained positive. "Stay here. I will get us both some food. Alright?" Kurt didn't wait for an answer. He pecked Blaine on the cheek and left the room.

The boys spent the next two days in the hospital. After the first day Blaine's mother rose from her sleep. Her speech was slurred but she was conscious and knew exactly who Kurt was.

"Ah, Kurt, it's good to meet you. Blaine had told me so much about you. I'm Pam." Pam elevated her bed. Blaine looked confused.

"Mum, when did I tell you about Kurt?"

"When I was asleep." Pam chuckled then turned to Kurt. "He wouldn't shut up about you. Enough to put me in a coma again." Her laugh was soft and light.

"It is good to meet you Ms Anderson." Kurt replied formally.

"Pam, is fine, dear." She lifted her right hand and clasped Kurt's.

The three of them talked all afternoon until Pam grew tired and fell asleep. It felt like a weight had been lifted from Blaine's shoulders and for the first time since arriving Kurt saw Blaine smile. The next night there was a knock at the door. The three of them were chatting quietly when he arrived.

"Dad?"

"Hi Blaine." Mr Anderson stood in the doorway. Kurt automatically stood too, waiting for Blaine to introduce him, which he knew Blaine would want to do.

"Dad." Blaine took Kurt's hand and lead him forward. "I would like to introduce you to Kurt, my boyfriend." When Mr Anderson smile and extended his hand, it was as if another weight had been lifted from Blaine's shoulders. Who would have thought that such a simple formality could bring so much joy?

The four of them made small talk. They chatted. Kurt talked about his family. Mr Anderson mentioned how well Blaine was fitting in in New York. Pam spoke about her travels before her stroke. It was evening when Mr Anderson offered to say with Pam.

"Blaine you have been here with your mother for almost five days. I bet you haven't slept properly either. Kurt you look just as awful. Here, take this." It was a hotel key card. "This is yours. Rest, please. I'll call the hotel if anything changes."

"Oh please, I'm getting stronger every day." Pam assured. "All I need to do now is get the use of my left side back so I can get back onto painting." She tried to move her left arm, but it wouldn't budge.

Blaine and Kurt left the hospital to find their hotel room. Argentina was a beautiful city, with old streets and European style buildings. It was nothing like Kurt expected.

"It's here." Blaine pulled Kurt into the hotel lobby. Both boys were too tired to pay much attention to the decor, but it was fancy enough to have marble flooring and three elevators. There was a slight gothic feel to the deep tones that decorated the walls. The two boys held each other in the elevator, using each other for support lest they should collapse from exhaustion. When they reached the room the fell asleep in each other's arms, completely clothed and content.

Smut shall return next chapter, just had to get through some sentimental stuff first. This story is taking a bit of an unexpected turn but I hope you guys are still keen on it, there will be more Club scenes soon. Let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions.