AN: So, pretty much the last thing I should do is start yet another Glee/Supernatural crossover, but I keep getting these wonderful, wonderful ideas, and what else am I supposed to do other than write them?
Warnings: Spoilers for Supernatural 4.09 and after. AU after that as well because there's no Anna Milton although this was largely inspired by her character on the show. Also, it has been moved up 2 years putting it on the same timeline of Glee.
For Glee, I'm going to say a blanket spoiler notice for all of Season 2, but it is largely AU because of Kurt's status as an angel which obviously is not true :D Oh, and the Raziel spoken of below has nothing to do with the Razel mention in the Mortal Instruments series.
I think that's it for warnings. This is the first time I've written anything as wildly AU as this is, so I suppose I ought to watch out for the tar and feathers! I'm not sure I'm going to continue to post it, but if enough people are interested in reading it, then I definitely will.
The Coming of the End
In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear.
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie.
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there.
-Angel, Sarah McLachlan
The thing about going crazy, Kurt discovered, was that you didn't know you were going crazy in the first place because if you asked Kurt, he would tell you that he wasn't crazy at all. He could hear angels talking in his head, yes, but that didn't make him crazy. Only… well, to everyone else it did.
The first time he heard the angels was on the third Saturday in September during his junior year of high school.
He had been sitting in his room with Tina and Mercedes talking about Rachel's latest tirade in Glee when he heard someone say, "Dean Winchester is saved."
Of course, Kurt was smart enough that he knew hearing things that no one else could hear—and he knew that no one else had heard that after asking both Tina and Mercedes—wasn't exactly the mark of a sane person, but he had hoped it was a fluke.
The next time it happened, not only was Kurt completely alone, but it was more than one voice. He didn't freak out though. He explained it away as a figment of his imagination brought on by the stress of his dad's heart attack and too little sleep.
Pretty soon, though, he was hearing the angels all the time—when he was alone, when he was with others, during classes, and even during Glee. As time went on, he became more withdrawn from his friends and family, and who could blame him? It was hard to pay attention to his normal everyday life when the angels spent nearly every moment talking about the Apocalypse.
That was where it became a little strange for Kurt because he had never been a very religious person. Before all of this had happened to him, he was more indifferent about God than anything else. Listening to the angels didn't help matters in his feelings about God at all because everything in heaven—and on Earth!—was in chaos and yet God was nowhere to be found. Why shouldn't Kurt be angry at God? What had he ever done for him besides cause him nothing but pain?
Nearly a month after he first started hearing the voices, his dad confronted him.
"You gotta talk to me, kid, I don't know what to do anymore."
Kurt was sitting in on his bed, his mind a million miles away. His dad was saying something about drug use or depression, and he was trying to pay attention to it—he was—but the angels were up in arms about the possibility of another seal being broken, and he just couldn't concentrate on anything else but that.
It wasn't until his dad grabbed him by the arms and forced him to look at him that he responded at all and even then Kurt only offered him the smallest of reassurances that sounded weak even to his preoccupied mind. He wasn't sure if his dad believed them or not, and if he was being honest, he didn't care.
The closer it got to Halloween, the more agitated Kurt was. He withdrew further and further from his friends—quitting the Glee Club and spending all of his time alone in his room. He stopped listening to music because he was afraid to miss a single moment of the angels talking. He even went so far as to take caffeine pills and drink cup after cup of coffee so that he could stay awake.
On Halloween things took a turn for the worse.
It was after midnight when Kurt became hysterical. The Winchesters had failed to stop the rising of Samhain which meant that not only was there about to be a slaughter the likes of which the world hadn't seen since the last time Samhain had walked the earth, but another seal was now broken. Lucifer was one step closer to walking the earth, and he must not be allowed to walk the earth.
Terrified, Kurt took one of his razors and slit his wrist. When his dad found him a few minutes later, he was drawing a strange symbol on the wall of the basement with his own blood. It took both his dad and Finn to hold him down until an ambulance could get there.
"I wasn't trying to kill myself," Kurt told the doctor for what felt like the hundredth time. The incident on Halloween had led to him being involuntarily committed for 72-hours.
"Why did you cut yourself, then, if not to do harm?"
"I had to!"
The questioning went on and on in circles. Every time he gave an answer, the doctor would ask him why. "But why did you have to?"
"To protect myself," Kurt admitted at last.
The doctor clearly hadn't been expecting him to answer like that because a perplexed look flitted across his face. "Protect yourself from what?"
Kurt's lips thinned, and he shook his head, refusing to answer. "You'll just think I'm crazy."
The doctor made a noncommittal noise and took a few notes in the yellow legal pad that was perched in his lap. "I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to help you, Kurt."
There was an influx of voices. Apparently Dean Winchester had passed some sort of test. Some of the angels were happy about this information, but others…well, the others were unhappy about it.
"—Kurt, can you hear me?"
Reluctantly, Kurt turned his attention back to the doctor in front of him. "Yes, I'm sorry."
The doctor studied him for a minute. "You seem distracted. Why?"
Kurt didn't answer. The angels were getting louder. It sounded as if they were fighting. Some of them were pleased—very pleased—that the seal had been broken. The others were outraged that their brethren would feel that way. The angrier they got the higher pitched their voices became until Kurt could barely think. He put his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block out some of the noise.
The doctor motioned for an orderly to take him back to his temporary room.
Another thing about people thinking you're crazy was their tendency to talk about you as if you weren't in the room, even if you're sitting less than three feet away from them.
At the end of his 72-hour commitment, he found himself sitting next to his dad in a set of incredibly uncomfortable chairs the doctor had in front of his desk. They were discussing him as if he was no more than a child. When they did finally leave it was with a referral to a psychiatrist, a diagnosis of Schizophrenia, and a prescription for Clozapine.
For a couple of weeks things went back to almost normal. He took his medicine every morning and every night, went to the therapist twice a week, and spent the rest of time either at school or with his dad at the garage. The angels were quiet—almost too quiet—but Kurt wasn't sure if that was because something big was about to go on or because the medicine had "fixed" him. Either way, he felt constantly on edge. Unlike before, though, he was better at hiding it.
He hadn't liked the three days that he spent in the psych ward at Lima Memorial Hospital, and he wanted to avoid another visit if he could help it. If that meant he had to feign interest in frivolities such as Glee club and football in order to keep his dad and the kids at school off of his back, he would.
He might have even succeeded if he hadn't heard one of the angels say his name. Only it wasn't quite his name. Raziel, they called him, but somehow Kurt knew they were talking about him. He just knew it like he'd known they were angels in the first place, like he'd known the symbol to put on the wall to keep any angel out of his house because that was what the symbol had been—an Enochian Sigil.
After he heard the whisper of his name, they went completely silent. He had never been more terrified in his life because the silence he was experiencing wasn't a natural silence—nothing about it was natural in the first place but this was even more unnatural than the other—it wasn't even the silence he had experience prior to September. It was as if they had put a block on him somehow. He knew they were still talking, still communicating, only now he couldn't hear it—and if he couldn't hear them then how was he supposed to protect himself? The answer was simple, he couldn't. He needed help only who could help him? Who could protect him against the Host of Heaven?
The first night after the introduction of radio silence he fell into a fitful sleep.
He dreamed of a garden. At first he was alone, but then he noticed someone else with him—an older dark-skinned man with patches of gray in his hair. He was dressed like a gardener but he obviously wasn't human given the large expanse of wings he sported. He wasn't a man—he was an angel. Joshua, his mind supplied for him.
"Remember," the angel told him.
And then he did.