Title: Salt, Silver, and Kryptonite

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Clark Kent, other Smallville and Supernatural characters.

Rating: T

Genre: Suspense/Horror/Mystery

Summary: Through a rather routine series of events, the Winchester brothers find themselves in the idyllic town of Smallville and both have very different opinions of the "Meteor Capital of the World". While there, they learn that the town isn't quite as Rockwell-ian as it seems on the surface and could be the territory of creatures, and a Hunter, unlike any they've met before.

Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville, Supernatural or any characters therein.

Author's Notes/Warnings: This is set concretely during the first season of Supernatural, but the timeline regarding Smallville is a fluctuating, compaction of the events in seasons five, six, and maybe early seven. Will mostly be Winchester POV for reasons yet unrevealed to me by the Muses.

Salt, silver, and holy water…the Holy Trinity of hunting.

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October, 1989

-Smallville, Kansas-

"Dean, stay inside the room, keep the door locked, and –"

"Look out for Sammy. Yes'ir." Ten year old Dean Winchester looked up into the face of his father. "But do we really need to stay inside? You said yourself this thing only comes out at night."

"Dean, I don't want either of you to get hurt."

"C'mon, Dad. The town's called Smallville. What could happen? We'll be careful, I swear."

John smirked. Normally, Dean wouldn't push the issue so hard, but he had a bad case of cabin fever. From the way Sam was bouncing in the corner, pretending not to listen with poorly constrained hope, the man knew his younger son was just as stir crazy. He had been keeping them cooped up lately. "Alright, but I want you to stay in sight of the motel and both of you better have silver, salt, and holy water. You book it back here at the first sign of trouble and I want this door locked and salted before the sun goes down, you understand?"

Dean smiled. "Yes'ir! Thanks, Dad."

The elder Winchester returned the smile weakly, glancing back over his shoulder as he disappeared through the doorway. Once he was gone, Dean grabbed up his jacket. "C'mon, Sammy!" he encouraged, shoving things in his pockets and securing his knife on his belt. When Sam had copied the preparations, both boys ran out into the fall sunshine, youthful joy appearing on their too-matured faces.

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"C'mon, Sam. Just be the stupid monster."

"I'm always the monster," Sam complained, grabbing unsuccessfully at the toy pistol Dean had swiped from a five-and-dime a while back. "Why do you always get to be the Hunter?"

"Because I'm older," Dean answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's not fair!" Sam balled his fist. "Rock-paper-scissors."

Both boys threw their hands and Sam grabbed the fluorescent gun triumphantly, shoving a foam dart down its barrel. "Always with the scissors, Dean."

"Shut up and cover your eyes."

After a cautious look around, Sam squeezed his eyes shut and started counting. Dean's gaze swept the empty field before he sprinting soundlessly towards the irrigation ditch, hiding on its slope.

"One hundred!" Sam's voice hollered. Dean snuggled closer to the ground, keeping his eyes on the top of the ridge so he could spot his brother's approach. "Dean Winchester wears girls' underwear!"

"I do not!" Dean countered, standing up. Something struck his ear and he glanced down. The bright dart rested at his feet. "Damnit, Sammy; that was dirty."

"No such thing." Sam was perched on the edge of the ditch a few feet away, grinning like a loon. "It's your own fault for falling for it."

"Geek."

"Jerk."

"Dude, I'm so bored of this. Smallville sucks."

Sam nodded his agreement. "I guess we just go back to the room and wait for Dad, then?"

"Yeah. And if we hurry, we can catch the farm report!" Dean's voice was rich with sarcastic enthusiasm. "Let's go, Sam."

"Hey, Dean?"

"What?"

"I think maybe we should run."

"What? Why?" Dean turned and followed Sam's gaze skyward, his eyes growing to twice their size. Panicking, he grabbed his brother's arm. "You're right for once. Run, Sammy!"

Sam didn't have much choice with Dean dragging him like a piece of rope. His legs pumped furiously to keep up with his brother's longer, adrenaline-fueled strides, but his eyes stayed fixed on the growing ball of fire that streaked across the sky, eyeing the boys hungrily. He could see that more followed behind it.

The first meteor struck behind them, the force of the impact enough to send them crashing to the ground. Spitting a mouthful of dirt, Dean shoved to his feet, his fingers sill clenched around Sam's scrawny bicep, and continued their flight. Again they were knocked down, this time by a crater appearing just in front of them.

"Come on!" Dean seethed, wheeling as a third boulder fell at them. The momentum of the maneuver was too great and he stumbled, dragging them both to the ground again. As heaven pelted more stone and fire at the planet known as Earth, Dean used himself as a shield for his brother. "It'll be okay, Sammy," he assured over the continuous spray of dirt that rained on them. "I promised to-" He was cut off as a dislodged rock struck the back of his head, sending him into unconsciousness.

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Even at the tender age of six, not much scared Sam, but at that moment, he was terrified. The world was falling to pieces around him and there was nothing he could do about it. He was going to die. Dean was going to die. And it was all his fault; he'd asked Dean to convince their father to let them go outside.

Then, just as quickly as the apocalypse had started, it fell silent, smoke the only sign of its visit. With effort, Sam pushed Dean's unconscious body off him, glad that his brother couldn't mock his frightened tears. Sitting up, he glanced around, suddenly recoiling in shock.

Scorched earth stretched around them, steaming where the meteors had sunk into the loose soil, and there, in a pile of dirt and melted pebbles, sat a toddler, smiling over his shoulder at them, oblivious to the heat of his chosen seat.

Both boys stared at each other, Sam's mouth agape, the toddler's upturned in that ever-present, secretively clueless smile that made Sam uncomfortable. "What are you?" he demanded.

Instead of answering, the younger boy looked towards some far off noise, rising to toddle towards it. Sam made a move to follow, flinching as a blinding light surged around him. His mind went blank and all he saw were a small pair of galaxy-hued eyes before he too fell unconscious, collapsing beside Dean.

The next time he opened his eyes, darkness was zipping by the windows of the Impala and his brain felt fuzzy. He could not remember what he'd been doing or how he got there. Shrugging, he leaned against the door and returned to his slumber. It probably wasn't important.

November, 2005

-Stanford, California-

Sam watched with dull eyes as the fire crew sorted unceremoniously through what remained of his "normal" life, showing respect only for the little segment roped off with yellow tape. He didn't care; all that had mattered to him was now a pile of ash. The acrid scent of burned flesh poisoned the air and he noticed vaguely that he wasn't bothered by it. All those years away from hunting and still he was used to the smell of a burning person. God, he was a monster.

"Hey, Earth to Sammy!"

Sam turned a bland gaze to his brother. "Don't call me Sammy."

"Whatever, dude. So, you just gonna stand there being all angsty like some douchebag, or are we gonna go find the son of a bitch that did this?"

"Yeah." Sam's voice was sedate.

"That's the spirit. Oh, but when we do find the bastard, you gotta let me get my licks in." Dean pulled the keys from his pocket. "Y'know, I've been workin' on my right hook so I can-"

"Dean."

Dean paused, looking over the roof of the Impala at Sam. "What?"

"I'm driving."

The elder Winchester looked torn for an instant before he grinned. "Yeah; sure thing." He tossed the keys over and traded places. "It's not like you ran her through a house or anything," he muttered under his breath, sliding into the passenger seat as the engine roared to life.

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Author's Note: There you go, a nice little foundation. Now, if you want to help me build this story, leave a review, especially if it has the types of monsters and/or Krypto-freaks you'd like to see. Neither have to be canon, though I will not be using monsters that Sam and Dean have not seen or heard of prior to John's reappearance in season one. So, no vampires, wraiths, leviathans, or Jefferson-starships. Sorry, guys. Pretty much anything else is acceptable.