AN: I don't even know any more. My mind just seems to have tuned itself to a frequency inhabited solely by crossover ideas. There are already 4 more written down for after this one. FML.
Set during 'Grilled Cheesus' for Glee, and post 'Soul Music' for the Discworld series.
Title from 'The Man Comes Around' by Johnny Cash
Disclaimer: If you haven't figured out yet that I don't own it, then you never will.
Warnings: None really.
I Looked And Behold, A Pale Horse
Kurt slumped in his chair, eyes unfocused and not taking in a word of the book he was supposed to be reading to keep up to date with school. He'd been awake for over twenty-four hours, and had spent much of those sat at his dad's bedside, hoping for any sign that he would wake up, any sign that he would be okay.
In his fuzzy, half-awake state it took him a moment to realise that the seat at the other side of the bed was now filled, a dark figure sat with an interested expression on its... face? No. Face wasn't the word. Skull. That was the word.
So. Skeleton. Black robe. Scythe leaned against the IV stand. Hourglass.
"You'd be Death then?"
INDEED.
"And my dad's... going to die?"
PERHAPS. AND THEN AGAIN, PERHAPS NOT.
"Excuse me? You're Death and you're sat beside my dad's hospital bed. There's your scythe right there. All this would kinda add up to dead."
Death heaved a sigh like a death rattle.
IF ONLY IT WERE THAT EASY. IT'S THIS NEW-FANGLED UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE. HAVE YOU HEARD OF THE TROUSERS OF TIME?
"Not unless they're from the new Alexander McQueen Spring line."
YOU FATHER MAY DIE. BUT THEN AGAIN HE MAY NOT. UNTIL THE UNCERTAINTY IS RESOLVED I WILL WAIT.
Kurt squirmed in his seat, trying not to stare too much at the sentient skeleton in the hospital chair. Noticing idly that the occasional nurse passing by apparently couldn't see him.
"How come I can see you anyway? Am I going to die too?"
NO. YOU CAN SEE ME BECAUSE YOU ARE IN A DELUSIONAL STATE BROUGHT ON BY EXHAUSTION. UNLESS SOMETHING GOES VERY WRONG I WILL NOT BE SEEING YOU AGAIN FOR A VERY LONG TIME, KURT HUMMEL.
Kurt longed to ask exactly what he meant by that, but decided against it on the grounds that he might actually answer him. He tried to return his attention to the textbook Finn had left behind, but found himself being drawn back again and again to the figure of the Reaper.
After a few minutes of this Death sighed again.
DO NOT MIND ME. I WILL NOT DISTURB YOUR STUDIES. I HAVE A BOOK.
He reached inside his robe and pulled out a copy of Twilight. Kurt pulling a disgusted face at the sight.
IT ISN'T TO MY TASTE. BUT MY GRANDDAUGHTER RECOMMENDED IT TO ME. IF I RETURN IT UNREAD SHE WILL BE... DISPLEASED.
Kurt stifled a snort at the idea of Death being afraid of anyone. Though if anyone was to be feared it was obviously going to be family. He glanced down at his book again, managing to actually take in some of the information on the page for the first time in hours, then when he looked up the figure was gone.
"Does this mean he's going to be okay?"
There was no answer. Not that he'd expected one. He looked over at his father one more time, then turned at the sound of a clearing throat. The nurse tapped her foot, eyes soft as she looked at him.
The nurses seemed to have made taking care of Kurt as a personal challenge, and he didn't dare argue. Last time he had they'd threatened to bar him from visiting.
With a soft sigh he stood up and shoved the textbook roughly back into his messenger bag.
He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his dad's forehead, before heading out, the nurse closing the door firmly behind him.
He glanced back over his shoulder, but there was no sign of a dark figure in the room. Taking that as a good sign Kurt reluctantly left the hospital.
He'd be back in the morning anyway. And he really should sleep or Carole and the nurses would strap him to a bed and sedate him for his own good.
…...
Back in the hospital room Death shook the hourglass in his hand for a moment, then bowed his head to the figure on the bed.
GOODBYE MISTER HUMMEL. I WILL BE SEEING YOU AGAIN. BUT NOT FOR A WHILE.
He turned and gathered up his scythe, tucking the wretched book back into his robe with a faint shudder of distaste. He whistled, and Binky rode through the walls of the room, as though a horse in a hospital room was a perfectly natural thing.
Death climbed into the saddle, and strapped the scythe onto its holster, stroking Binky's mane as he looked over at man on the bed.
YOU HAVE A GOOD SON. YOU SHOULD BE PROUD.
With that, he patted Binky lightly, and he turned and charged out through the wall into open air, riding upwards into the dark sky as though on level ground. Seconds later he accelerated, leaving trails of blue fire in his wake before he simply vanished. Back to Death's Domain.
…...
Burt Hummel, unaware of the world around him, nevertheless thought, deep down inside.
I AM.
AN: Before anyone complains, in the Discworld books Death talks all in capitals, and his words aren't enclosed by speech marks.
Enjoy.