Once again, I was struck by my muse! I am also working on new chapters of my other crossovers, but decided to write this since it came into my head.

Warnings: Spoilers for Supernatural 4X20. AU for some of Jimmy's history. All aired episodes of Glee are fair game, but this is a future!fic for Glee which makes it AU for that as well. Also, the Glee timeline is all screwed up. Basically just forget it about what year it is, and you'll be fine.

Pairings: Kurt/Jimmy, past mentions of both Jimmy/Amelia and Kurt/Blaine, maybe some Kurt/Castiel in the future, also mentions of Burt/Carole, Finn/Rachel, Sam/Ruby, and Dean/Lisa.

Bleeding Heart, Vanishing Soul

By Koinaka

Well in case you failed to notice,
In case you failed to see,
This is my heart bleeding before you,
This is me down on my knees, and...

These foolish games are tearing me apart,
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.
You're breaking my heart.
Foolish Games, Jewel

Kurt met Jimmy on a Monday morning.

Kurt hated Monday mornings. In particular, he hated cold wintry Monday mornings—cold rainy wintry Monday mornings in which he had to somehow make it to class by eight o'clock. He also hated when he was running late which he was—desperately, horribly late—and sure to be even later because there was no way he would make it through this morning without a caffeine drip.

He stopped at his favorite coffee shop for his usual large nonfat soy mocha with no whip—thankyouverymuch—only to discover that the morning barista was an idiot who took twice as long to make the drink and then didn't even manage to make it properly. He was about to let loose on what was sure to be a verbal lashing when someone tugged on his coat.

"I, uh, think they mixed ours up. This is yours, right?"

The first thing Kurt noticed about the man who was holding his cup of coffee was his eyes. They were blue—startlingly blue. The second thing that he noticed about him was that though he was extremely attractive he had obviously gotten dressed in the dark as he was currently wearing two different shoes.

He stood there for a moment trying to decide whether or not to mention the mismatched shoes before finally nodding. "Yes, thank you."

The man flashed him a wide smile as they switched their cups around. "I'm useless before my first cup of coffee," the man confessed. "I was on the train from Chicago when I noticed that I was wearing one black shoe and one brown shoe."

"Some mornings are just difficult," Kurt conceded.

The man nodded eagerly. "Oh, yeah, you could say that again. Claire—that's my daughter—insisted on wearing all yellow today to match her rain boots. Apparently," he said with a fond smile, "it is necessary for your shoes to match your clothing. I have to admit that I've never been chastised for my lack of fashion sense by a six year old before. She would get a kick out of my predicament."

"A girl after my own heart," Kurt said. "She's right, you know. Your choice in clothing—shoe mishap not withstanding—is deplorable."

The two shared a smile and a laugh.

What Kurt should have done next was to thank the man once again and then head on his way. If he had left then and ran, he might have made it to campus before the class ended. What he did instead was to spend the morning tucked away in the coffee shop with the man who, it turned out, was a thirty-three year old widower named Jimmy Novak.

Ten years later, and Kurt's life was light years away from the life he had expected to have after graduating college. He had expected glamour, fame, fortune, etc. Never in a million years had he ever expected to fall in love with his polar opposite. They made quite a pair: Kurt with his meticulous attention to detail and theatrical tendencies and Jimmy with his absentmindedness and his regularity. Some of their friends joked that Jimmy was the only thing anchoring Kurt to earth—and Kurt agreed. Without Jimmy he had no doubt that he would never have completed his Masters or actually begun a career in opera.

Somehow they made it work, but it hadn't always been easy. When they first moved in together, Jimmy had been a single father working his way through his PhD, and Kurt had been on the verge of starting his own advance degree. There had been plenty of hard times back then. Jimmy spent his days selling ad time for a local a.m. radio stations and his nights writing his dissertation while Kurt spent his days either in classes or giving vocal lessons and his nights helping Claire with her homework and singing in Chicago's Lyric Opera Chorus. Money was tight and both men were lucky if they were able to sleep a handful of hours each night. Combined with the fact that their families weren't exactly supportive of their relationship—Kurt's dad because of the difference in their ages and Jimmy's because of Kurt's gender—and it often felt like it was them against the world because all they had was each other and Claire.

As time went on, things got easier for them. They graduated and went on to their respective fields—Jimmy obtaining a teaching position at Northwestern where they had both graduated from and Kurt working a series of part-time position while he continued to sing in the Chorus and audition for roles at both Lyric Opera and anywhere else that he could. Kurt landed one small role and then another before finally landing his first principal role. Eventually they were able to buy a home and even start their own family, and while they might not be able to legally marry one another, they both considered themselves very much married.

But now the life that they had built together was threatening to topple over, and there wasn't anything Kurt could do to stop it because the man he loved—the man he'd married and started a family with—was literally falling apart in front of him.

It had started with a series of headaches, and then a seizure, and before Kurt knew it, Jimmy was talking about someone named Castiel and about God's plan for him.

The first time he had heard Jimmy utter that phrase, Kurt had been beyond exasperated for one simple reason: religion had always been a point of contention between the two of them.

At first it had been just something that they would debate over coffee or sometimes wine depending on the situation, all abstract ideas and philosophy. Later, as they grew more serious, became more committed to one another, it was Jimmy inviting him to Mass every Sunday or to the GLBTQ Bible studies on Saturday afternoon. Jimmy hadn't pressured him to go or anything like that—in fact he had gone so far as to assure Kurt that both his priest and the other members of the church were extremely open-minded and accepting—but Kurt, unfortunately, been less than receptive. Eventually they had agreed to each practice—or not practice—how they wanted without repercussion or judgment from either side.

Every so often though they would get into disagreements about something or another related to religion. The names of their twins, for example, had caused quite a few quasi-arguments. They had begun discussing possible baby names nearly the moment they discovered that their surrogate was pregnant. Their arguments only escalated when they found out they were having not one but two bundles of joy. Then had come the entire circumcision debacle followed closely by the debate on whether or not to christen them.

Even though they had managed compromise on each of those issues, Kurt—far from perfect as he would attest to—was often left feeling bitter and guilty in even parts. So that was why the first time that he heard his husband tell him that "God" had some magnificent plan for him that he hadn't been able to stop himself from laughing in Jimmy's face.

The second time it wasn't quite so funny. Nor the third. By the fourth time, Kurt was understandably upset.

There was only a month until his first performance as Papageno in The Magic Flute, and rehearsal that day had been brutal. Add in his commute from Chicago to their home in Evanston, and Kurt was done. He wanted nothing more than to eat dinner, spend time with his family, take a very long bath, and fall in bed asleep—not necessarily in that order. Instead he had come home to complete chaos. The nanny had dropped Elijah and Joshua, their fifteen month old twins, off early which meant they were currently running amuck in the house with Claire following along behind them best as she could. The house was a mess, and there was no sign of dinner preparation. Jimmy, seemingly oblivious to the chaos, was holed up in the den watching a program one of those Evangelical channels that was talking about angels.

"God has a plan for me," Jimmy said when he noticed Kurt standing in the doorway.

"And what," Kurt asked, his mouth twisted into a frown, "is 'God's' great plan for you?"

When Jimmy looked at him, everything about him—his face, his countenance—was completely serene. "I'm going to help save the world."

The words had reached Kurt through a fog of disbelief. "You… you've got to be kidding," he said, his voice a little breathy.

And yet there was no change in Jimmy's facial features or his even voice. "No, I'm not, Kurt. An angel appeared to me in my dreams last night and told me that I've been chosen."

There was a crash from the next room followed by Claire shrieking, "Ewww gross!" which signaled that there was probably an emergent diaper situation with one of the boys because while sixteen year old Claire was willing to help with her little brothers, she was not willing to change a diaper. He wiped a hand over his face. Obviously sleep would be a long time coming tonight.

"Enough with the lies, Jimmy," Kurt said, his voice a low hiss. He was about to stalk out of the room when he noticed Jimmy's state of dress or rather his state of undress as he was still wearing his pajamas. "Didn't you have classes today?"

Jimmy shrugged. "I canceled them."

"You canceled them," Kurt repeated. He took a deep breath. "Do I even want to know why?"

"I spent the day talking with Castiel."

Kurt's eyes narrowed. "And who, exactly, is Castiel?"

"He's the angel of the Lord that appeared to me last night. He says that God wants me—that I have a higher purpose—"

Disgusted, Kurt refused to listen to another word. He had to take care of the twins and make some semblance of a dinner before he would be able to finally get some much needed sleep.

Things went downhill quickly after that.

The next afternoon while he was at the park with the boys, Claire had called him absolutely hysterical. When he got home, he found his husband with his entire arm in a pot of boiling water muttering about how Castiel had wanted him to prove his faith.

A trip the emergency room led to a psych evaluation which then in turn led to a diagnosis that Jimmy scoffed at and pills that he refused to take. He wasn't going to work or helping take care of the kids or the house. Instead he went to Mass as often as he could and spent the rest of the time watching those angel "documentaries" on TV.

Then, the day that The Magic Flute was to begin, Jimmy vanished.

Kurt should have known something was going on because the night before had been wonderful. Like it had been before all of the talk about God and angels had begun. They'd made love for the first time in weeks and then spent the rest of the night wrapped in each other's arms.

"I love you, you know that, right?" he had asked Kurt before he drifted to sleep. "You and Claire and the boys are the most important things in my life. I will never let anything happen to you."

If Kurt had been more awake, he would have heard the desperation in his voice, but being half-awake as he was, he had dismissed it. "'Course, silly," he had sleepily replied. "Now, go to sleep. Big day tomorrow."

He was gone when Kurt woke up.

No note, nothing missing from the house other than a suit and the hideous trench coat refused to let him wear.

He had simply walked out the door and vanished into thin air.