AUTHOR's NOTES:

Since I finished Comrades and Brothers, a story I started a few months ago, I took interest back into Smallville/Supernatural crossovers. My first attempt called Along this Road We Take, My Brothers is in so far 2 chapters and at 7k words total, revolving around a young Winchester family and Clark Kent. You can still see it on this site under this same username. It's unfortunately put in the back-burner for now. I also have no copy of the chapters on this computer sadly so when I do write more to that story, I will have to start over. My old computer no longer works and I forgot to back my documents up before it crashed on me. My plot for that story was getting kind of big. I planned on turning it into an epic. So for now, I wanted to start off smaller here. Let me warn you right now, this is a WIP (work in progress). I also don't write much romance as you can probably tell from my stories. For a list of further warnings and character list please follow this on AO3. archiveofourown works / 1087501 without the spaces

We Live in a Godless World

Synopsis: Supernatural/Smallville crossover; season 1 AU SPN, season 4 AU SV. After putting to rest the poltergeist in their old house in Lawrence, Kansas, Sam Winchester has another vision. Only this time it takes the brothers to Smallville, home of one alien resident Clark Kent and rampant mutants.

Part 1

Sam Winchester was walking down an empty road, alone. He passed a small sign and noted absently the word SMALLVILLE written on it. No Impala in sight, nor a pain in the ass older brother. It was chilly and dark and he shivered as another breeze caressed his skin through his clothes. He wore a sports jacket; red and yellow, an enlarged 'S' on the front. It wasn't one he recognized and Sam knew instantly he was dreaming this. Suddenly he heard something, far off in the distance. How it was possible he wasn't so sure. But he didn't seem to question it. All of a sudden his head swiveled up to the sky, to the dark sky and grey clouds and before he could process what was happening, he was going up and up, higher, higher, in the air. His feet hovered above the ground. Two inches, then three. Then four…five…two feet…five…it kept getting higher still.

Sam tried to snap out of it. He told himself it was a dream. Wake up. His mouth moved in the shape of the words and yet, no sounds came out. He was a puppet with its strings being played with by an invisible master. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and then he was shooting forward, still in the air, the wind blowing his hair out. Whoosh. That was the sound he heard all around him as he flew.

He landed in the middle of a field. Sam opened his eyes and saw a barn out in the far distance. A small house, a farm really, stood next to it. He heard a crack of thunder, loud and ringing in his ears, and he nearly collapsed in the sheer loudness of it. Sam covered his ears for a couple minutes, pants coming in harsh breaths. He looked toward the field again. A man stood a few feet away in stark white clothes against the darkness, his back to Sam so he couldn't see who it was. But he had an inkling of who it was, yet at the same time, he had no clue. But it didn't matter because soon the man turned, not caring that Sam would see his face.

"Hello, Clark," the man said, inclining his head. Sam's first thought was absurdly to note that the man was bald, though whoever this guy was, he didn't have a clue.

He wanted to point out his name wasn't 'Clark', that the guy was plainly mistaken. However, what came out instead was a gritted, "Lex." The name held no familiarity to him. Sam wasn't in control anymore though. The body he inhabited took a step forward without his consent. Suddenly it was like he was looking into a fishbowl, an observer from the outside. "What are you doing here?" His voice was anxious now.

The man, Lex, smiled. His arms spread wide and his eyes closed as he inhaled the nature of the outside world. Then he opened his eyes and looked back at Sam and Sam startled, trying to leap back, but found that his feet remained planted firmly to the ground with an unseen force. Lex's eyes were pitch black now. And Sam knew that whoever this Lex was, the man that stood before him was not him. Not anymore. And all of Sam's instincts was to turn tail and flee, run as far away from this creature as he possibly could. If only Sam were in control of his legs, of this body. Instead he felt muscles in his arms flex, his hands clenched into fists. He felt a rush of fear shoot through him but he didn't run. Instead he waited because Sam had no choice in the matter.

"This world, Clark, it's meant for a bigger purpose than just to be eventually destroyed by man," the possessed man said.

Sam could feel his mouth move of its own accord to sneer, "What are you really?"

The demon laughed at him. Then it gazed right back, its black eyes narrowed to slits, its mouth forming a sneer of its own. "Something more powerful than the likes of you and your kind," it spat out, shaking with a rage that Sam could see even at this distance. "Something better." It stalked over to him with an inhuman speed but Sam could see it, could track its movements with such ease that the sudden ability that this body possessed left him shaking to his very core.

Before Sam could come out of his shock, his hand suddenly shot out to grip the demon's neck. The man sputtered in surprise at the unshakeable strength in his grip. It terrified Sam. Or at least it should have. Instead he felt a rush of something dark course through his body. He felt his grip tighten as he raised the man higher into the air, his gaze dark as he watched. "You have no idea what you're messing with here," he said lowly.

Then the man's head tilted back and he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Black smoke shot out into the night sky. Sam watched as his hand suddenly released the man. Lex dropped to the ground in a boneless heap.

The dream ended and Sam awoke with a gasp and flailing arms, to loud rock music, the Impala, and his obnoxious older brother at the wheel. He looked around wildly, the remnants of the dream still in him. Dean shot his brother a worried look. "Dude, you okay? Was it another nightmare?"

Sam shook his head to himself, trying to rid of the last of the fear he felt. Dean was watching him carefully in the rearview mirror but Sam still couldn't quite get his body to relax. "No," he said.

"A vision then?"

Sam wanted to say 'no' but there was a resigned look on his brother's face now that he knew meant lying to him about this now wasn't going to do either one any good. "Yeah," he said instead.

"What was it about this time?"

The rock music was turned off once Sam started to rehash his latest dream and near the end of it all, they were both hungry and irritable and ready to collapse from the stress the last few weeks had brought. Dean drove them to the closest gas station when he realized they were running low on gas. Sam headed into the convenient store to get some snacks for the road. When he came back out with a bag full of Doritos and granola bars and another bag with a six pack of Bud Light, he found his brother leaning against the Impala, waiting, having obviously finished filling her up.

They both got in the car and drove back onto the road. Into the silence, Dean said, "So, where does this 'vision' of yours happen at?"

Sam leaned his head against the window as he gazed out into the fields of grass and trees that passed by in blurs. "Smallville. Smallville, Kansas."

Dean's eyebrows shot up but he didn't say anything. It was a few hours of this; of Dean not saying a word, not pushing the subject, not trying to get into Sam's head. Of Sam not saying anything back, trying to focus all his attention to the ever shifting scenery outside the Impala. Of the radio, for once, turned off. Silent, muted, hushed, whatever. Then Sam gave in.

"We have to go there, you know that, Dean."

He watched as Dean's expression shifted from a blank mask of calm to a more incredulous stare as he turned to look at his brother. "Why? Because your dream told you so?"

Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Dean, are we really going to start this up again?"

Suddenly Dean pulled the Impala to the side and Sam had to grip the dashboard in both hands to stop himself from crashing head first into it. Dean killed the engine in one swift motion and turned half way to his brother. Sam could see the anxiety on his face as he studied him.

"Look, Sammy, I get it. You get these dreams sometimes, visions, whatever you want to call them. And yeah okay they came true so far. But Sam, we still don't know what's going on. Don't you still want to find dad and get some answers?"

Sam swallowed at the silent plea in his brother's eyes for him to try and understand the stress Dean was going through in all this. Dad, Sam, the crusade. Everything. He felt his hands clench tightly in his lap. But his visions were important too, maybe more important than answers for the moment.

He matched his brother with a grim determination once he made up his mind. "Dean, we have to check this out. Please." Licking his lips, Sam stared at his brother, hoping to make him see reason. "That guy's eyes…in my vision, the guy's eyes flashed black. All black. Like a demon's. What if…? We can't just let this slip by and hope it's just another nightmare."

Dean swallowed as he digested the information. "And if this is just another nightmare?" he asked softly.

Sam shrugged and stared at the empty road, shivering at how familiar it seemed. "Then we'll go back to what we do best. Hunting things and saving people." He turned away from his brother as he heard Dean start up the Impala. He had a feeling he wasn't wrong. They were needed in Smallville.

Dean cranked up the radio once they were on the road again, this time headed in a new direction. Sam shifted in his seat. A couple hours into the drive, Dean pulled out his cell and tossed it over to Sam who fumbled to catch it. He looked questioningly at his older brother, white knuckled on the wheel and a steely gaze focused on the road ahead.

"Text Dad. Say we can't take the job."

Sam texted the message, short and sweet, with trembling fingers wordlessly. He was sure John could arrange for another hunter or two to take the job in Rockford, Illinois. Sam didn't bother to type the reason for their decision. If Dad wanted to know that badly he would eventually call them and it wasn't as if John had never been secretive with his own sons, sending them around the country on nameless jobs while he did God only knew what.

"Done." He shut the phone and handed it back to Dean. Dean tucked into the back of his jeans. In less than an hour they drove past the sign that Sam had seen in his dream. SMALLVILLE it read. He remembered this road as well. He walked along it before he flew to the cornfield and face off against a demon. Sam felt shaken. He rubbed absently at his head, an action that caught his brother's worried eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Just a headache. Don't worry, I'm sure it'll pass soon."

It was a lie, yet not really a lie. He suddenly felt lightheaded. The world was spinning and spinning and Sam suddenly felt the need to puke. Quickly he rolled down the window. Wind lashed at his face and hair but Sam ignored it as he shot forward and heaved. The Impala had stopped as he let go of the breakfast burritos he and Dean ate before taking off on the road.

After his body heaved out the last of it, Sam stayed where he was for a moment. He still felt dizzy and sick and the headache was hitting him hard now. He gripped the window tightly with both hands but it was a weak grip and he just kind of sagged there, half leaning out the window like his strength had drained out of him. Dean lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Hey man, you done yet?" The words came out soft and Sam nodded, letting his big brother pull him gently back into the car. He slumped into his seat as the window rolled back up. The Impala started up again and Sam closed his eyes, intending on just resting them for only a moment but drifting into a dreamless slumber. Dean drove on.

When Sam opened his eyes back up, they were pulling up to a small motel. He glanced around blearily. "Wha's goin' on?"

Dean pulled into an empty parking spot and turned off the engine, then turned to his brother, showing Sam a brilliant grin. "Morning, Princess. Get enough beauty rest? Because we're here now. Welcome to Smallville."

Then Dean turned back to push open the door and hopped out. Sam waited a beat to do the same. He followed his brother into the small motel. Once inside they made a bee line straight for the front desk and ordered a single room with two beds. The man behind the counter shot the brothers an inquisitive look but didn't make a comment as Dean paid up front with cash.

"So this vision of yours…know when it'll happen?" Dean asked once they were settled comfortably in the room. Straight to business.

Sam shook his head. "No. But it'll be sometime at night. It was dark and cold. There were clouds out. I heard thunder in the distance," he supplied. It rang in my ears almost painfully loud, he thought but didn't say out loud. When he told Dean about his vision, he left parts of it out. He wasn't sure why. With the woman in their old house, he told Dean every detail he could remember. With Jess, he left out only his personal feelings toward it. But this, this he felt was different somehow. The inhuman strength he felt in this 'Clark' guy. The way he could see the demon's movements from a mile away with incredible ease. If he told Dean all that, he would have to admit to his own feelings when he was inside this guy…it wasn't fear that he had felt coiling tight in his chest. Sam felt it, even now, something darker. Something much more sinister. And that he couldn't own up to his brother. At least not yet.

Dean was biting the bottom of his lip as he mulled over what Sam said. Finally he released a frustrated sigh and ran his hand through his hair. "Don't remember thunderstorms being foreseen for tonight."

Sam agreed with the reluctant statement. Somehow he knew it wasn't tonight. So they had some time to investigate in this town. Dean watched him wordlessly from his perch on the bed just across from him. When Sam didn't say anything, Dean finally addressed the question lingering in Sam's head, "I saw a small house on the way here. It was a kind of farm I think. Surrounded by a large field."

They decided to get as much information on the town as they could before they did anything else.

Smallville, as Sam had already predicted, was a small backwater town where everyone seemed to know one another. Which was good and bad in a way. Good because it was easier to extract information from people and be pointed the way to another good source of information once you used up the first. Bad though because while everyone was friendly enough around strangers, they were also wary, cautious. And one thing Sam knew for absolute certain. Small towns usually held deep secrets. And with secrets came lies and tight lips. Sam was certain that Smallville was no exception.

Dean drove them down to the local high school. It was a week day at the beginning of Fall. Thursday. Dean had asked the motel manager if anything strange happened in Smallville. The guy laughed. Said they must really not be from around here if they didn't know about Smallville and in hushed tones, told them the town history. Meteor shower. Strange stuff happening, rumors of people running around with some amazing, unnatural 'abilities'. Rumors, though he had reiterated at Dean's increased intrigue.

They hit the local library and read up on it some more. Newspaper clippings showed that Sam's dream may have been a vision after all. Freakish accidents. Things that couldn't be explained. Some names came up more than once. It was like this town was a beacon for the paranormal, its own Eureka. He paused at a few articles, his breath catching in his throat, his heart beating fast, his gut churning. "Clark Kent," he said almost softly.

Sam glanced up at his brother. "I think I know where to go next, Dean."