Of Fathers and Sons: Part 4 (Glee/Supernatural Crossover)
Title: Of Fathers and Sons
Author: Koinaka
Rating: PG13
Pairing(s)/Character(s):Kurt, Burt, The Winchesters, Bobby, pretty much the entire Supernatural gang, one-sided Lucifer/Kurt.
Genre: Supernatural!Crossover, AU
Spoilers: up to the end of Season 1 for Glee, up to 4.22 on Supernatural
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Ryan Murphy and Eric Kripke respectively.
Summary: Kurt always knew that his dad was keeping a secret from him. When his dad goes missing, he'll discover just how big that secret was.
Warning(s): AU/crossover
Word Count: Around 2500 words for this part.
Written for This prompt at the One-Sentence Meme
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3
I just wanted to thank everyone for reading and reviewing! It always means a lot to me. Now, some people had some questions about the previous chapter. What Azazel meant by Campbell girls is that Kurt's mom is Mary's younger sister. I know that she doesn't have a sister in canon, but this is AU as I think most people realize. I will go into the history more later, I promise, but for now just know that Kurt's mom was a Campbell making him Sam & Dean's cousin.
Also, yes, this doesn't make Kurt old enough to be part of Sam's group of psychic kids, but we know from Azazel that there have been other generations both before and after Sam's.
If I haven't made it clear before, I'll go ahead and do so now. This is AU for Glee. Some events happened the same way they did before, some didn't. It is AU for Supernatural as well going off track at 5.01 especially but some stuff before and after as well. I have also taken liberties with vessels as well. Mostly in regards to family lines. Since John, Dean, and Adam all have the ability to be Michael's vessel, I am assuming that that is a trait passed along through the Winchester line, and since Sam is Lucifer's vessel, I'm assuming that it is a trait passed down through the Campbell line.
I hope this doesn't turn anyone away from reading.
Of Fathers and Sons
By Koinaka
The truth is hiding in your eyes
And it's hanging on your tongue
Just boiling in my blood
But you think that I can't see
What kind of man that you are
If you're a man at all
Well, I will figure this one out
On my own
-Decode, Paramore
THEN
Lima wasn't exactly a sleepy city, but everyone pretty much kept to themselves. Plus, it wasn't like he had any enemies, was it? One thing his dad had drilled in him over and over again through the years was to blend in. He didn't do a perfect job of it-his fashion sense wouldn't allow that-but he managed to skirt through school without much torment other than some ridicule from the jocks about the Glee Club. Every once in a while he would hear someone mutter a derogatory name as he passed through the hallways, but no one ever said anything like that to his face
He pressed his lips together into a thin line but made no response.
"It'll be fine," Kurt told him as he began clearing the table. "Really."
His dad didn't look convinced, but Kurt just shrugged it off. It was Lima, for crying out loud. What could possibly happen in Lima?
NOW
It wasn't unusual for Kurt to hear nothing but silence when he first woke up in the morning since not only was his bedroom in the basement it was completely soundproofed as well, so he didn't know anything was amiss the next morning until he had gotten ready for the day and climbed the stairs to leave the basement.
The first thing he noticed when he opened that door was that there was a large bag of Morton's rock salt leaning against the wall directly next to the door. The next thing he noticed was that he was that he was standing in salt as there was, for some reason, salt poured in front of his door.
"Huh," he said, curiously, stepping over the salt and into the rest of the house proper.
The door to the basement was in the kitchen so, normally when he first came upstairs, he would see his dad either drinking coffee and reading the newspaper at the table or in the process of making breakfast. This morning, however, he saw neither. The kitchen was empty, though nearly every cabinet door was open. Thinking that perhaps his dad had been looking for something, he shrugged that off, closed the cabinets and continued on through the house.
His breath whooshed out when he came to the living room. It was a mess. The coffee table was overturned and several of the picture frames had fallen off the wall and shattered, just to name a few things.
He called out for his dad, but when there was no response he ran to his bedroom. The door was open, revealing to Kurt that the room was in same state of upheaval as the living room. The only difference was the line of blood that began near the bed and ended at the large bay window-the large broken bay window.
This was not an unfamiliar scene to him. He had seen his dad's bedroom like this before-in his nightmares the night before.
Eyes wide with horror, Kurt backed out of the room only to collide with someone. He let out a strangled scream and spun around to find himself face-to-face with the man from the night before-his dad's prospective silent partner, Bobby Singer.
"Oh," he breathed out a sigh of relief. "It's you."
"You okay, kid?" he asked.
Kurt nodded. "My dad's not here, though," he told the man, a bit inanely as that much was patently clear. "I think something really bad might have happened to him."
"Damn!" the man muttered, looking past Kurt and into the bedroom. He walked over to the window ledge and slid his fingers across it. Then, he did the strangest thing-he sniffed them.
"We should call the police," Kurt said as Bobby, who actually, now that he thought about it, looked more like a trucker than any sort of business man, wiped his hands on his jeans.
"Ain't nothing the police can do for your daddy now," he said gruffly.
Kurt just gaped at the man. "Are you suggestion that I do nothing when it's obvious that something's happened to my dad-that someone's done something to him? I mean you saw the mess and the blood! He could be hurt, he could be dead for all you know. We can't just sit here and do nothing!"
Bobby shook his head. "Didn't say that either, but the police can't do anything to what's got your daddy. There aren't many who can."
Kurt's breath hitched in his throat. "I don't understand."
The older man gave him a sympathetic look. "I know you don't. I'll explain it as best I can, but we need to get out of here before it comes back."
"Wait-we? I'm sorry, but I have no intention of leaving with you. I don't even know you. For all I know, you could have been the one to do this!" Kurt exclaimed, moving away from the man.
"You wanna wait around for whatever did this to come back?" he asked, giving Kurt a pointed look. "Thought so," he said when Kurt shook his head.
Kurt studied Bobby for a moment, his eyes narrowed. "You're not a prospective silent partner, are you? You're one of Dad's friends from before, right? From before I lost my memories?"
Bobby's face went blank, but he did nod, warily. "That's right."
"Okay," he exhaled harshly. "I'll need to pack some things if I'm going to leave."
Bobby looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. He just followed Kurt down to the basement and watched while Kurt began tossing clothes and shoes into one suitcase and his toiletries into another. After so many moves, Kurt was practically a packing pro. Of course he wasn't under duress during those moves, so now all he could do was cram all of the clothes he could fit into a suitcase with absolutely no finesse, and even then he was only able to take a portion of what he owned. Then he grabbed his satchel and stuffed his iPod and cell phone in it alongside his laptop.
When he was finished, he took one last look around his room. They had lived at this house for longer than they had lived anywhere else-since his mom died, at least-and it, more than any other place, felt like home to him. He almost couldn't bear the thought of leaving because he had the most awful feeling that it was the last time he would ever see this place again.
Not to mention his dad, but he couldn't think about that then-especially not when Bobby was driving down the interstate like a bat out of hell.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
Bobby took his eyes off the road for a moment and studied Kurt. "I'm taking you to my house in South Dakota. You'll be safe enough there."
Kurt's eyes widened. "Safe from what? Do you think that whatever got dad'll come looking for me?"
There was a pause. "It's possible."
Kurt didn't say anything for a long time. "I think he knew," he said, quietly, never taking his eyes off the road in front of him.
"Come again?"
Kurt took a deep breath. "I think my dad knew something was going to happen. He's been acting strange lately. Really protective-more so than usual," he clarified because his dad had always been protective of him.
"Could be," Bobby said evasively.
Kurt scowled. Bobby's tone was the same tone of voice that his dad used when telling him about his mother's death. It meant, more than likely, that he was lying. Sensing that he wouldn't get any more information from the man, Kurt put his headphones in and spent the next few hours listening to his iPod and watching as they drove further and further away from Ohio.
They were eating lunch in a tiny diner when Bobby's cell phone rang. After a short, cryptic conversation, he headed for the bathroom. When he came out, almost twenty minutes after going in, he ushered Kurt out of the diner and back into the car. "Change of plans," he said. "We've gotta head to Maryland."
Kurt froze where he was standing near the car. "Maryland?" he asked. "I thought you said you were taking me some place safe!"
"I did, and I am," Bobby said, irritation bleeding into his voice.
But Maryland wasn't safe-not at all. He wasn't sure why, but the thought of going to Maryland terrified him, absolutely terrified him. Maybe it was because a lot of his nightmares took place in Maryland, he wasn't sure. He only knew that he didn't want to be anywhere near there.
That feeling didn't go away. In fact, the closer they got to Maryland, the worse it got. He tried sleeping, but his dreams were filled with blood and a priest with yellow-eyes. There was something else tugging at his consciousness-something about another man with yellow-eyes-but whenever Kurt tried to focus in on it, it all just disappeared.
Not only was he plagued with nightmares when he slept, but when he was awake, he was plagued by the sense of eyes on him. Not Bobby's but someone else's which was just insane because no one else was there. Bobby was acting decidedly odd as well. He kept clenching and unclenching both his fists and his jaw, and once Kurt had been absolutely sure that his eyes had flashed black, but then the next time he looked they were back to normal, so he just chalked it up to a figment of his imagination or maybe just the light catching his eye wrong.
Kurt was jarred awake when the car came to a stop. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the harsh fluorescent light of a motel vacancy sign.
"Come on, kid. I'll order us up a pizza after we get settled in."
Kurt nodded. He slung his satchel over his shoulder and followed Bobby into the motel room.
Kurt didn't think it was possible for him to be so exhausted when all he had done all day long was sit, but still, somehow, he managed it. He was practically asleep on his feet as he showered and completed his moisturizing routine as well as he could given the limited amount of products he had been able to bring with him. He was asleep before his head even touched the pillow. After a day of falling into a nightmare each time he dozed off, he expected to find himself right back in the middle of one, but instead, he found himself dreaming about his mother for the first time in years.
She was just as young and bright and pretty in person-well, in dream-as she was in the pictures his dad kept put away. She was also not alone. There was a young boy with her. It was himself, he realized after a second glance.
Maybe this wasn't a dream after all. Maybe this was a memory.
His mom swung young Kurt around causing him to giggle loudly. "You're special, Kurt," she was saying as she continued to spin round and round and round. "So special."
Then his mom looked at him-the real him and not his dream self-and smiled, but there was something off about it. It was almost as if it was a copy of his mother's smile instead of the real thing. This must be a dream after all and not a memory.
Still smiling the not-quite-real smile, she came closer until she was close enough to touch Kurt.
"You're right. You are dreaming. I'm not your mom, Kurt," she said. "I'm an angel."
"Angels don't exist," he said straight away.
His mom's expression softened. "I understand why you would think so, but we do exist. My name is Lucifer, and I am an angel."
When Kurt didn't respond, she continued. "I'm here because you're special, Kurt. There are very, very, few people like you."
"Why?" Kurt asked before he could stop himself.
"You're a vessel. A very powerful vessel."
Author: Koinaka
Rating: PG13
Pairing(s)/Character(s):Kurt, Burt, The Winchesters, Bobby, pretty much the entire Supernatural gang, one-sided Lucifer/Kurt.
Genre: Supernatural!Crossover, AU
Spoilers: up to the end of Season 1 for Glee, up to 4.22 on Supernatural
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Ryan Murphy and Eric Kripke respectively.
Summary: Kurt always knew that his dad was keeping a secret from him. When his dad goes missing, he'll discover just how big that secret was.
Warning(s): AU/crossover
Word Count: Around 2500 words for this part.
Written for This prompt at the One-Sentence Meme
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3
I just wanted to thank everyone for reading and reviewing! It always means a lot to me. Now, some people had some questions about the previous chapter. What Azazel meant by Campbell girls is that Kurt's mom is Mary's younger sister. I know that she doesn't have a sister in canon, but this is AU as I think most people realize. I will go into the history more later, I promise, but for now just know that Kurt's mom was a Campbell making him Sam & Dean's cousin.
Also, yes, this doesn't make Kurt old enough to be part of Sam's group of psychic kids, but we know from Azazel that there have been other generations both before and after Sam's.
If I haven't made it clear before, I'll go ahead and do so now. This is AU for Glee. Some events happened the same way they did before, some didn't. It is AU for Supernatural as well going off track at 5.01 especially but some stuff before and after as well. I have also taken liberties with vessels as well. Mostly in regards to family lines. Since John, Dean, and Adam all have the ability to be Michael's vessel, I am assuming that that is a trait passed along through the Winchester line, and since Sam is Lucifer's vessel, I'm assuming that it is a trait passed down through the Campbell line.
I hope this doesn't turn anyone away from reading.
Of Fathers and Sons
By Koinaka
The truth is hiding in your eyes
And it's hanging on your tongue
Just boiling in my blood
But you think that I can't see
What kind of man that you are
If you're a man at all
Well, I will figure this one out
On my own
-Decode, Paramore
THEN
Lima wasn't exactly a sleepy city, but everyone pretty much kept to themselves. Plus, it wasn't like he had any enemies, was it? One thing his dad had drilled in him over and over again through the years was to blend in. He didn't do a perfect job of it-his fashion sense wouldn't allow that-but he managed to skirt through school without much torment other than some ridicule from the jocks about the Glee Club. Every once in a while he would hear someone mutter a derogatory name as he passed through the hallways, but no one ever said anything like that to his face
He pressed his lips together into a thin line but made no response.
"It'll be fine," Kurt told him as he began clearing the table. "Really."
His dad didn't look convinced, but Kurt just shrugged it off. It was Lima, for crying out loud. What could possibly happen in Lima?
NOW
It wasn't unusual for Kurt to hear nothing but silence when he first woke up in the morning since not only was his bedroom in the basement it was completely soundproofed as well, so he didn't know anything was amiss the next morning until he had gotten ready for the day and climbed the stairs to leave the basement.
The first thing he noticed when he opened that door was that there was a large bag of Morton's rock salt leaning against the wall directly next to the door. The next thing he noticed was that he was that he was standing in salt as there was, for some reason, salt poured in front of his door.
"Huh," he said, curiously, stepping over the salt and into the rest of the house proper.
The door to the basement was in the kitchen so, normally when he first came upstairs, he would see his dad either drinking coffee and reading the newspaper at the table or in the process of making breakfast. This morning, however, he saw neither. The kitchen was empty, though nearly every cabinet door was open. Thinking that perhaps his dad had been looking for something, he shrugged that off, closed the cabinets and continued on through the house.
His breath whooshed out when he came to the living room. It was a mess. The coffee table was overturned and several of the picture frames had fallen off the wall and shattered, just to name a few things.
He called out for his dad, but when there was no response he ran to his bedroom. The door was open, revealing to Kurt that the room was in same state of upheaval as the living room. The only difference was the line of blood that began near the bed and ended at the large bay window-the large broken bay window.
This was not an unfamiliar scene to him. He had seen his dad's bedroom like this before-in his nightmares the night before.
Eyes wide with horror, Kurt backed out of the room only to collide with someone. He let out a strangled scream and spun around to find himself face-to-face with the man from the night before-his dad's prospective silent partner, Bobby Singer.
"Oh," he breathed out a sigh of relief. "It's you."
"You okay, kid?" he asked.
Kurt nodded. "My dad's not here, though," he told the man, a bit inanely as that much was patently clear. "I think something really bad might have happened to him."
"Damn!" the man muttered, looking past Kurt and into the bedroom. He walked over to the window ledge and slid his fingers across it. Then, he did the strangest thing-he sniffed them.
"We should call the police," Kurt said as Bobby, who actually, now that he thought about it, looked more like a trucker than any sort of business man, wiped his hands on his jeans.
"Ain't nothing the police can do for your daddy now," he said gruffly.
Kurt just gaped at the man. "Are you suggestion that I do nothing when it's obvious that something's happened to my dad-that someone's done something to him? I mean you saw the mess and the blood! He could be hurt, he could be dead for all you know. We can't just sit here and do nothing!"
Bobby shook his head. "Didn't say that either, but the police can't do anything to what's got your daddy. There aren't many who can."
Kurt's breath hitched in his throat. "I don't understand."
The older man gave him a sympathetic look. "I know you don't. I'll explain it as best I can, but we need to get out of here before it comes back."
"Wait-we? I'm sorry, but I have no intention of leaving with you. I don't even know you. For all I know, you could have been the one to do this!" Kurt exclaimed, moving away from the man.
"You wanna wait around for whatever did this to come back?" he asked, giving Kurt a pointed look. "Thought so," he said when Kurt shook his head.
Kurt studied Bobby for a moment, his eyes narrowed. "You're not a prospective silent partner, are you? You're one of Dad's friends from before, right? From before I lost my memories?"
Bobby's face went blank, but he did nod, warily. "That's right."
"Okay," he exhaled harshly. "I'll need to pack some things if I'm going to leave."
Bobby looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn't. He just followed Kurt down to the basement and watched while Kurt began tossing clothes and shoes into one suitcase and his toiletries into another. After so many moves, Kurt was practically a packing pro. Of course he wasn't under duress during those moves, so now all he could do was cram all of the clothes he could fit into a suitcase with absolutely no finesse, and even then he was only able to take a portion of what he owned. Then he grabbed his satchel and stuffed his iPod and cell phone in it alongside his laptop.
When he was finished, he took one last look around his room. They had lived at this house for longer than they had lived anywhere else-since his mom died, at least-and it, more than any other place, felt like home to him. He almost couldn't bear the thought of leaving because he had the most awful feeling that it was the last time he would ever see this place again.
Not to mention his dad, but he couldn't think about that then-especially not when Bobby was driving down the interstate like a bat out of hell.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
Bobby took his eyes off the road for a moment and studied Kurt. "I'm taking you to my house in South Dakota. You'll be safe enough there."
Kurt's eyes widened. "Safe from what? Do you think that whatever got dad'll come looking for me?"
There was a pause. "It's possible."
Kurt didn't say anything for a long time. "I think he knew," he said, quietly, never taking his eyes off the road in front of him.
"Come again?"
Kurt took a deep breath. "I think my dad knew something was going to happen. He's been acting strange lately. Really protective-more so than usual," he clarified because his dad had always been protective of him.
"Could be," Bobby said evasively.
Kurt scowled. Bobby's tone was the same tone of voice that his dad used when telling him about his mother's death. It meant, more than likely, that he was lying. Sensing that he wouldn't get any more information from the man, Kurt put his headphones in and spent the next few hours listening to his iPod and watching as they drove further and further away from Ohio.
They were eating lunch in a tiny diner when Bobby's cell phone rang. After a short, cryptic conversation, he headed for the bathroom. When he came out, almost twenty minutes after going in, he ushered Kurt out of the diner and back into the car. "Change of plans," he said. "We've gotta head to Maryland."
Kurt froze where he was standing near the car. "Maryland?" he asked. "I thought you said you were taking me some place safe!"
"I did, and I am," Bobby said, irritation bleeding into his voice.
But Maryland wasn't safe-not at all. He wasn't sure why, but the thought of going to Maryland terrified him, absolutely terrified him. Maybe it was because a lot of his nightmares took place in Maryland, he wasn't sure. He only knew that he didn't want to be anywhere near there.
That feeling didn't go away. In fact, the closer they got to Maryland, the worse it got. He tried sleeping, but his dreams were filled with blood and a priest with yellow-eyes. There was something else tugging at his consciousness-something about another man with yellow-eyes-but whenever Kurt tried to focus in on it, it all just disappeared.
Not only was he plagued with nightmares when he slept, but when he was awake, he was plagued by the sense of eyes on him. Not Bobby's but someone else's which was just insane because no one else was there. Bobby was acting decidedly odd as well. He kept clenching and unclenching both his fists and his jaw, and once Kurt had been absolutely sure that his eyes had flashed black, but then the next time he looked they were back to normal, so he just chalked it up to a figment of his imagination or maybe just the light catching his eye wrong.
Kurt was jarred awake when the car came to a stop. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the harsh fluorescent light of a motel vacancy sign.
"Come on, kid. I'll order us up a pizza after we get settled in."
Kurt nodded. He slung his satchel over his shoulder and followed Bobby into the motel room.
Kurt didn't think it was possible for him to be so exhausted when all he had done all day long was sit, but still, somehow, he managed it. He was practically asleep on his feet as he showered and completed his moisturizing routine as well as he could given the limited amount of products he had been able to bring with him. He was asleep before his head even touched the pillow. After a day of falling into a nightmare each time he dozed off, he expected to find himself right back in the middle of one, but instead, he found himself dreaming about his mother for the first time in years.
She was just as young and bright and pretty in person-well, in dream-as she was in the pictures his dad kept put away. She was also not alone. There was a young boy with her. It was himself, he realized after a second glance.
Maybe this wasn't a dream after all. Maybe this was a memory.
His mom swung young Kurt around causing him to giggle loudly. "You're special, Kurt," she was saying as she continued to spin round and round and round. "So special."
Then his mom looked at him-the real him and not his dream self-and smiled, but there was something off about it. It was almost as if it was a copy of his mother's smile instead of the real thing. This must be a dream after all and not a memory.
Still smiling the not-quite-real smile, she came closer until she was close enough to touch Kurt.
"You're right. You are dreaming. I'm not your mom, Kurt," she said. "I'm an angel."
"Angels don't exist," he said straight away.
His mom's expression softened. "I understand why you would think so, but we do exist. My name is Lucifer, and I am an angel."
When Kurt didn't respond, she continued. "I'm here because you're special, Kurt. There are very, very, few people like you."
"Why?" Kurt asked before he could stop himself.
"You're a vessel. A very powerful vessel."