|mrstotten (mrstotten) wrote,|
@ 2008-12-31 12:58 pm UTC
|Current music:||twilight soundtrack|
|Entry tags:||fic, smallville, supernatural|
Summary: A Supernatural/Smallville crossover. The last seal is about to be breached. Dean, Sam and the gang head to Smallville where one man will be faced with a choice between love and fate, that could change the world forever. .
Rating: tbd, (G) at the moment
Genre: Slash, crossover
Characters: Dean/Castiel, Clark/Lex, Sam/Ruby, Uriel, Bobby, Chloe. Clark/Lex established couple, Castiel/Dean, pre slash at present
Spoilers: All supernatural season 4 epsiodes through to ep 10. Smallville is fairly safe as it is AU
Disclaimer: none of this belongs to me, i’m only taking the characters for a walk for my own amusement
Author's note:This is a crossover story and does include male/male relationships, if this isn’t your cup of tea, step away now J Thanks to the wonderful autumn_lilacs for the beta, the support, encouragement and for all round just being awesome.
“Are you really going to eat that?”
Dean looked up and saw Sam surveying his pie with a disgusted look on his face.
“What?” Dean asked, “It’s pie, what’s the problem?”
“I know it’s pie, Dean,” Sam replied. “The problem is that it is your fourth slice of pie in, oh, around 30 minutes. You keep it up and it’s going to be regurgitated pie.”
Dean snorted, “Yeah, right!”
“Like I’d waste pie,” he muttered and went back to attacking his pie with gusto.
Sam shook his head in disgust and went back to clicking on his computer aimlessly.
Dean noticed the disgruntled look on his brothers’ face, a sure sign that his research was not going well.
“I take it you’ve got nothing on Luthor or Kent?” he asked, craning his neck to get a look at the screen.
“Nope, well, at least nothing that screams out ‘evil demon seal here for the taking’, anyway. If you go back a few years, then there is plenty on Luther, he was demon seal personified: bribery, corruption, land pollution; this guy and his family were into everything. But since he moved to Smallville, he has become a regular pillar of the community, not so much as a parking ticket, and as for Kent, remember more vanilla than vanilla guy?”
Dean nodded, and Sam went on, “Well, Clark Kent makes him look like a deviant; completely wholesome 100% home grown farm boy.” Sam shook his head and pushed his laptop away in disgust.
“Are you sure your guys even have the right people?” Sam asked with barely disguised scepticism.
“We’re not his guys,” an angry voice interrupted the brother’s conversation.
Dean looked up and was startled to find Castiel less than two feet from him; the huffing, angry bulldog a couple of feet behind him.
It never ceased to amaze Dean how silently the angels appeared, or disappeared, for that matter, or that no-one around them ever seemed to notice.
He felt a rush of pleasure at seeing Cas; the two angels had disappeared on their first day in Smallville and hadn’t been seen for the last two days. They had been unsure if the angels were away digging up information, or if they had been dragged into one of the never ceasing battles that raged in the background of the world at present. Every time the angels left Dean wasn’t sure if they were coming back. They had witnessed first hand, that angels, though stronger, were ultimately just as vulnerable as man. He would never forget the first time he saw an angel die.
So, it was a relief to have him them back, he reminded himself.
He was distracted from his thoughts by the increasingly heated exchange between Uriel and Sammy.
“Hey! Cool it!” Dean interjected, “Can you guys save the bitching for another time, like oh, I don’t know, how about when there isn’t an impending apocalypse? What are you both yapping about anyway?”
Castiels steady gaze drifted from the arguing pair to Dean; he raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Uriel seems to have taken offence at your brothers insinuation, that we are, ‘your men’. During the ensuing exchange he made a rather crude aside regarding your brothers paramour, to which I think your brother retorted with a confusing remark about ‘Ken dolls’ and you interrupted just as Uriel was threatening to send both you, and your brother, into the fiery pits of perdition for your lack of respect, temperance and intelligence.”
Dean looked at Castiel as he finished speaking, and he could swear that he looked almost amused. There was also something indefinable in his eyes as he looked at Dean, a warmth that seemed to say he was glad to be here.
Dean shook his head, trying to clear away the cobwebs that seemed to be gathering. He took a step back and moved next to Sam, placing a gentle hand on his brothers’ tense shoulder, and guided him back into his seat.
Once he removed himself from Castiel’s immediate vicinity, Dean felt his head start to clear a little. Sometimes he could swear that the angel did a mind whammy on him when he wasn’t paying attention; there were times when Dean just seemed to completely lose his train of thought around the angel, and ended up distracted and confuse.
Dean felt the anger radiating from Sammy in waves, his breathing was heavy and shallow, but as Dean kept a steady hand on his shoulder, he could feel the tension start to dissipate, his breathing slowly return to normal. The glare he trained on the angels, however, was still full of virulent animosity.
“Ok,” Dean said as he sat down. “Can we get back to business? Did you guys manage to find out any more info on our two friends here?” he tapped the file as Cas sat down. Uriel looked down at his brother with an expression close to outraged betrayal before sighing heavily, and taking the seat next to him.
“We were under the impression that grunt work was your job,” Uriel said snidely to Dean “We were a little busy, battling the forces of hell to try and save this putrid planet for you mud monkeys”
Dean saw Sam’s back straighten and intervened before they were drawn off course again.
“So in other words, you guys know as little as we do? Great, well we’re going to have to look a bit deeper here. Do you guys have anything on either of them?”
Castiel forestalled Uriels upcoming snarky comment with a look. A hint of rebellion briefly sparked in Uriel’s eyes, but he deferred to his brother in arms with a sigh.
“We know that the seal they are after is called the ‘defiling of the innocent’, and it requires turning someone who is destined to be a force for great good, into an instrument of evil.” Castiel paused, after a brief glance at Uriel he continued.
“We also know that Clark Kent is special, different.” Castiel raised his hand to forestall Sam’s interruption, “It is not the type of different you would be likely to find on your electronic machine Samuel; he has kept his differences, his uniqueness, well hidden. Only a very select few know that he is not exactly as he appears, and those who do, guard his secrets carefully.”
Sam snorted, “So how come you guys know all his little secrets, if they are so well hidden? Are you keeping a crystal ball that we don’t know about? Or did you just find him and threaten the people he loves if he didn’t answer your questions?”
Uriel interrupted angrily, “You foul, ignorant, half breed! You and your brother are undeserving of our help, or our explanations, you filthy bunch of….”
“How about you back off chuckles?” Dean interrupted, standing up and placing himself slightly in front of Sam. “We get the picture, okay? We’re sons of Satan blah, blah but Sam has a point, how do you know that Kent’s different? Where did the information come from?”
“We don’t have to explain our information or sources to you, mud monkey. You will take what we have given you and be grateful for the help.” Uriel intoned darkly.
“Uh huh, yeah,” Dean tossed back sarcastically before turning to Castiel.
Cas glanced at Uriel briefly before returning his gaze to Dean. Dean noticed that he avoided making any type of eye contact with Sam.
“We’ve been watching him over the last few days, and we have spoken to the choir. His soul is different from normal humans; it’s song is different, stronger than most. He has the capacity for greatness, to bring forth true selfless good, as long as he chooses the right path.”
“His song?” Dean asked, confusion and scepticism marring his face. “Did you just say his ‘soul’ song?”
Castiel smiled at the disbelief in the hunter’s voice.
“Yes, Dean,” he replied patiently. “As heavenly beings we can see and hear elements of your being that you are unaware of. Every human being has a soul, and each soul has it’s own unique marker sound, it’s ‘song’ if you will. A person’s song can tell you much about who that person is, what they will do, and who they will be”
“What’s mine?” Dean joked, “I’m on the highway to hell?”
Uriel grunted his displeasure at Dean’s flippancy, but Castiel merely smiled.
“I can see that I am not explaining myself clearly. Although I use the word song, it is not a song as you would know it to be. A person’s song is at the core of their humanity; it’s like an ancient language, telling the story of its bearer. Their song can be strong or soothing, they can be bright shining symphonies, or small, quiet, dark noises.
Castiel smiled slightly. “But we are veering off course now, let us just state, that we have seen what they hope to corrupt in Clark Kent; now all we have to do is figure out how they plan to do it”
“What about the boyfriend?” Sam interrupted. “Before taking up with Clark, he was hardly a bringer of joy and light to the world, maybe the whole thing is a set up to open the seal.
Castiel hesitated, a frown crinkling his brow. “Perhaps,” he conceded. “But I think there is something different at play here. Before we can decide anything more, we have to find a way to gain access to Mr. Luthor, find out what we can about him, and what, if any, his role is in all of this”
“Plus,” Dean added, “Get close to him, we get closer to Kent, which means we can be on the lookout at the same time. All we have to do now is decide, how we’re going to get access to them.
Dean stopped as he saw Cas’s eyes drift sideways, acknowledging the presence of the waitress who had come up to the side of the table. She was a pretty blonde girl, with bright eyes and a gorgeous smile. Dean was actually surprised that he hadn’t noticed her earlier, but then again, there had been pie.
“Can I get you gentlemen anything? More pie, maybe?”
Dean looked down sadly at his half eaten pie, it was cold now *stupid distracting angels and their apocalypse*. Dean may not have many standards but this was pie. As he opened his mouth to order another slice, Sam cut in.
“No thanks,” he said, smiling politely, “Just the bill would be great.”
“Coming right up,” the waitress smiled and left.
Dean opened his mouth to confront Sam about the wanton blatant removal of the pie option, but was cut off at the pass.
“You’ve had four slices Dean,” Sam looked almost sorry, but remained firm. “Learn when to quit already.”
Dean heard Uriel murmer something under his breath about gluttony.
He turned to the annoying angel, glad to have an unfriendly face to take out the frustration out on.
“Oh, smite me, baldy.”
Uriel, made a sound of outrage, when Cas decided to calm the situation.
“They are right,” Castiel said, “Too much, and you’ll make yourself ill.”
Dean sighed, three to one, it just wasn’t fair. He turned to Sam to thank him for ruining his pie moment, but as Dean turned to his brother, he paused; Sam was glaring at Cas, with anger and something else shining from his eyes.
Just before he could ask Sam what he imagined his angel had gone and done now, the waitress came back to the table.
“You can get some pie to go.” Sam’s words were to Dean, but his challenging gaze rested on Castiel.
“Huh?” Dean stared at his brother, dumbfounded. Had the pressure finally cracked him?
“Actually, never mind about the pie” Dean realised his stomach was starting to groan under the pressure of what he had eaten before. He should have listened to Sam earlier.
“No,” Sam said, his gaze still not wavering from Castiel. “You’re having some pie, in fact, can we have three slices to go please?”
The waitress looked back and forth at each of the diners, her pen poised, unsure about whether she should be writing an order or not.
“Sam, it’s fine,” Dean insisted. “Really, I’m not hungry anymore”
Dean glanced over at Cas to see if had any explanation for his brothers sudden pie crazieness.
But for once, Castiel’s gaze wasn’t on Dean. He was staring steadily at Sam, something that almost looked like a challenge was gleaming in his eyes.
Uriel watched the proceedings with a mixture of amusement and disgust.
“So, do you want some pie or don’t you?” the waitress asked, waiting for some confirmation.
Castiel sighed. “Yes, please,” he replied, “Three slices to go.”
Dean looked from Cas to Sam, what the hell was going on with these two? But it didn’t seem worth an actual argument, plus, he was sure he would find some room later.
“Fine, three slices of pie.”
The waitress turned quickly to leave, before anyone could change their mind again.
Dean turned to Sam, ready to tell him that he wasn’t getting any of the pie, only to find his brothers angry gaze now on him.
“Know what Dean?” Sam raged, slamming the lid of the laptop down. “You can have your damn pie!, Hope you and Cas enjoy it”
Sam, stormed out of the restaurant, still shoving his computer into his duffel as he went.
“What the.....” Dean turned to Castiel and Uriel to see if they had any idea about what had just happened.
For once, Uriel wasn’t ready with snark or snipe. Instead, he was staring at Castiel with a look of sorrow on his face.
“This is a dangerous game you are playing brother,” he said, almost gently.
Castiel shook his head. “It stopped being a game a long time ago brother, if it ever was.”
Dean wondered if it was a by product of Smallville that had everyone speaking in tongues today. Maybe it was something in the water. Or the pie?
Before he could say anything about his pet theory, Uriel gave him one of his patented ‘die, mud monkey, die’ looks and stormed out.
“Here you go guys, three slices of apple pie; wrapped and ready to go.” The waitress appeared back at their table, looking relieved to finally be rid of the crazies at last.
Dean looked over at Cas; something in his stance made him realize that now wasn’t the time to push for answers over what the hell had just happened.
Dean turned to the waitress and went into full charm mode, turning his mega watt smile in the direction of the girl.
“Thank you so much...?”
“Chloe,” the girl stuttered, blinking rapidly a slight blush rising on her face, she shook her head slightly as if dazed and took a quick step back.
“So are you guys just passing through or do you have friends here in Smallville? I’ve lived here for years,” she confided. “There are few people in town I don’t know.”
“Really?” Dean asked. He was about to go into dig mode when he saw the small shake of Castiel’s head.
“Well then, we know where to come if we need a tour guide. It’s been a pleasure meeting you Chloe,” Dean said, flirting a little. “Hopefully we’ll bump into each other again.” He winked at her as he headed to the door after Cas. Dean saw Cas’s small smile, and could swear he saw an eye roll at the wink, but he was happy enough that the earlier strange atmosphere had gone, and he decided to let it pass.
Chloe watched the two men head towards the door of the Talon, she took out her cell and pressed her speed dial. The phone had barely rang once when a warm voice answered.
“Clark?” The fake smiled that Chloe had plastered on her face faded as she watched the two men finally exit the diner.
“I think we have a problem.”
Clark paced up and down the floor, his mind still whirring with a million and one possibilities running through it at the one time.
Lex looked up from his space in the bed and gave a weary sounding sigh.
“You do realize that you are going to wear away our carpet, right?”
Clark whirled round, agitation and fear screaming from the tone of his voice.
“How can you be so calm Lex? Four strangers waltz into town and start digging into our lives, discussing our secrets, and you lie in bed, reading a book, and acting like nothing is wrong.” Clark knew that his voice was probably rising to an octave where only dogs would be able to hear him soon.
“Six.” Lex stated.
“What?” Clark asked, confused. “Six what?”
“There are six of them.” he replied. “They arrived in town two days ago and are staying at the Breany Boarding house, five men and one woman.
“How do you know all this?” Clark asked. He finally stopped pacing, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Simple,” Lex replied. “I had them checked out, straight after Chloe’s bizarre call this afternoon.”
“It wasn’t bizarre,” Clark said, defending his friend.
Lex raised his eyebrows
“Really?” he asked “As I remember, the conversation revolved around a soul band, with three ‘really hot guys and a bald dude’.”
“Soul music,” Clark corrected. “They were talking about the music a soul makes , and that mine is different from other humans.” Clark trailed off.
Lex finally understood what had been bothering him this evening.
Lex lifted Clark’s hands to his lips and slowly kissed his fingertips.
“Your soul is perfect Clark, as is your heart and your spirit, these people don’t know you, so don’t let them upset you.”
Clark smiled over at the man, who in the last few years, had become as necessary to him as breathing.
He found his agitation slowly settling, with each tender caress of Lex’s lips on his fingers.
But the unease in his stomach was refusing to settle completely.
“What do they want Lex? Things are just starting to settle down here. Why are these people here? What do they know?”
“Sssshh…” Lex whispered. “I don’t know Clark, but I promise you that we’ll find out. Whatever they want, whatever they’re after, we’ll find out, and we’ll deal with it; the same way we always do, together.”
Clark smiled; a real smile this time, warm and rich, lighting up his eyes and face.
Lex felt his heart skip a beat. This man had been part of Lex’s life for eight years now; five as his best friend, three as his lover, and it never ceased to amaze him that Clark had chosen him. That this shining supernova, with the warm green eyes and gentle heart, loved him: Lex Luthor.
He may appear to be calm about what had happened today, for Clark’s benefit, but his mind hadn’t stopped racing since Chloe called earlier today. Clark was his life now, his family and friends were Lex’s family and friends and the thought of his life without Clark Kent in it was unthinkable.
He had tried to put his past behind him; for Clark he had tried to be a better person, make better choices, be the type of person that deserved to be loved by someone like Clark Kent. But if these people posed a threat to Clark, to his family or their life together, then those rules went out the window.
Lex Luthor, lived life with passion; he loved fiercely, but his hatred could burn just as bright. No one was hurting Clark, not on his watch; he’d find out who these people were, and if there was a problem then he would deal with it, personally.
Lex smiled at Clark, “Come to bed,” he whispered. Clark smiled and sank onto the bed sheets, there would be enough time to worry about these strangers in the morning.
The first thing that Dean saw when they entered the guest house was Bobby, sitting and reading through some notes. No sign of Uriel or Ruby, which was a plus, but also, no sign of Sam.
“You seen Sammy?” Dean asked Bobby, trying to pretend that he wasn’t interested in the answer.
“Yep, he and Ruby disappeared about an hour ago, didn’t say when he’d be back.”
“Great, just great.” Dean headed towards the bedroom, it was past 3pm and a bottle of whiskey was about the only thing that was going to make him feel better right now; he was too concerned about where Sam was to even notice the angel staring after him in concern.
Four hours and more than a few whiskeys later, Dean could almost convince himself that he didn’t care where Sammy was right now, but that hadn’t stopped him from leaving him several messages; each one getting more belligerent as the whiskey flowed.
He felt, rather than heard Cas come into the room.
“I’m drunk, I’m tired, and I’m not in the mood for a lecture Cas.”
“Good,” the angel said. “I’m not in the mood to give one.”
“So you what, just felt like some company and realized that the only one willing to put up with you is the drunk one?” Dean joked as he lay down on the bed
Castiel smiled, “You look tired Dean, why don’t you get some sleep?”
Dean smiled back. “Nah, who needs sleep when you have a bottle of JD, a bag of Doritos and no little brother to lecture you about the cable porn,” he joked. He knew by the look on the angels face that he wasn’t buying a word of what he was selling; Cas knew that he was waiting up for Sammy.
Without invitation Cas sat down at the other end of Dean’s bed.
Dean raised one eyebrow. “What? You in the mood for some porn Cas? Never took you for the type.”
The angel frowned slightly at him, but didn’t reply. For several minutes the silence dragged on until Dean couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Ok, ok, no porn, but if you plan on keeping me company, then you can at least talk, none of this scary sitting and staring, you know that shit freaks me out.”
Castiel opened his mouth to reply, but Dean cut in before he could get a word out
“Also, no lectures about the drinking or the swearing! I am so not in the mood for a lecture on how many ways I’m damning my soul back to hell.”
Cas smiled slightly. “I wasn’t going to lecture, I merely wanted to know what you wanted to talk about.”
“I don’t know,” Dean frowned. “The nicks game? How Victoria Foxfoot was robbed of Playboy of the Year? Pick a topic.”
After another long silence Dean sighed, this angel really needed to get a life, and a sense of humour.
“Alright, since normal topics of conversations don’t appeal, why don’t you tell me more about the soul music you were talking about earlier.”
“Such as?” Castiel asked.
“What do our songs sound like? I mean, do we all walk around like little mini Ipod’s, belting out the songs that fit our moods?”
Cas chuckled lightly and Dean enjoyed the sound, he wasn’t sure why, maybe because it made a change from pissing people off.
“Not exactly,” he replied. “Your song doesn’t change according your mood, it’s part of you, from the moment your born. Although in certain unique situations, your song can change when you are older, generally it always remains the same. Your song is a personification of your personality. A unique sound, representing your soul. Have you ever been in the company of a person, whose very presence soothes you, makes you feel safe?” Castiel asked.
Dean’s mind quickly flashed up an image of his mother, her gentle blue eyes, lighting up as she smiled at him. Castiel smiled, as if he already knew the image that had sprung up in Dean’s mind.
“That is their soul, speaking to yours in affection, calming your own soul with its light and tone and bringing you peace. People often talk of soul mates and it is true. In its plainest definition of the word; a soul mate are two people whose songs complement each other perfectly. Who, when together, make the perfect harmony.”
“So, that’s where the phrase ‘lets make beautiful music together’ comes from?” Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows.
Castiel smiled, but didn’t answer.
Dean looked at him for a moment, wondering just how ridiculous he would sound if he asked the question running through his mind.
“Just ask, Dean,” Cas said gently.
Dean glared at him for a second. “How do you do that? Do you poke around in my head when you feel like it or something?”
“That’s not the question you wanted to ask,” Castiel replied.
“Yeah, and that’s not an answer either.” Dean sighed. “Ok then, can you hear everyone’s ‘soul song’?” Dean asked.
“If we choose to listen to it, then yes,” Cas replied. “But again, that isn’t the question you wanted to ask. You wanted to know if I had listened to your song; you wanted to know what it sounded like.”
Dean suddenly felt like the room was getting smaller, the air denser. He wanted to ask the question, but something told him, that if he did, he might not be prepared for the answer.
Before he could decide, he heard a door slam in the next room. Pulling himself up, Dean stood and cleared his throat; for a minute he hesitated, feeling like he was on the brink of a decision that he didn’t completely understand.
“Don’t worry Dean, when you’re ready to know the answer, you’ll ask.”
Dean turned, ready with a quip to lighten the mood, but he found himself alone in the room again; Cas had gone.
Dean shook his head as if to clear it. “Damn Houdini Angel,” he muttered, but as he squared his shoulders and headed in the next room to talk to Sam, he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face.