Author's Notes: This story begins roughly mid/late-season 3 of Smallville and many years prequel to Supernatural, when Sam and Clark are 16. I suppose you could say it starts a bit after the episode "Whisper" though I have made some major changes to the storyline of the show to fit the fic, and everything onwards will be altered or of my creation plot-wise.

Lois won't be in the story for a while yet, but there will be Clark/Lois pairing. Most likely also Sam/Chloe pairing. I spent a long time deciding not to make this a Sam/Clark slash, and instead they will be extremely close friends. I have also created some OC classmates, as a lot of the earlier portions of this story will feature Clark and Sam in high school. I've made some modifications to Lana's character and story as well. Though Clark has a crush on her at the moment, note that this is not a Clark/Lana story.

The trailer for this story can be watched on my YouTube channel. The link is in my profile, along with the story banner. I hope you enjoy this first portion, and please send me feedback!

~ Prologue: Dean's Sacrifice ~

Clark stuffed his hands into his pockets as he walked along the familiar main streets of Smallville. He passed the Talon, but wasn't surprised to see the windows were dark like most of the other buildings around him. He'd been the only one around for over an hour, since it was late at night and most of the town's residences were probably comfortably asleep in their homes.

Clark didn't know why he was there, only that he had to get away from the farm and his parent's worried glances. He supposed he wanted to see something around him that reflected the loneliness he felt within. A week ago, he'd discovered his new ability of super-hearing, and yet it was far from his concern. He should be practising it, Clark knew, but he couldn't think about what'd gained after who he'd lost.

Pete moved to Wichita with his mother yesterday, and the day before that Clark and Lex had broken off their friendship. Lana continued to ignore him after what happened, an event which she blamed him for, and Clark had never felt as abandoned as he did now. The only hope he had to hold onto was the fact he'd received phone calls from Chloe all day, as her own way of reminding him she was still there. He hadn't said much, but she didn't expect him to.

Exhaling a long breath, Clark decided to head home and once again try to sleep. He paused when he heard the rather odd sound of an aged engine. The noise was strange in itself, yet Clark wondered why anyone would be driving around hours after midnight.

He turned towards the approaching vehicle, and if it hadn't been for the rumbling hum of its engine, Clark might not have noticed it at all. The black Impala blended with the shadows as it drove away from the beams streetlights, and came to a slow halt a few feet from the sheriff's station building. Clark was much further along the same street, and turned his head so his ear faced the car, which enabled him to use his super-hearing to eavesdrop.

'You don't have to.' Dean told his brother, who got out of the Impala and pulled his bags from the back seat.

'Yes, I do.' Sam said, trying to keep his emotions together. 'But what about dad?'

'I can handle dad.' Dean answered with false confidence. 'I'll cover this whole thing up. As far as he knows, I'm states away hunting a werewolf. You happened to run away instead of staying in the motel room to wait for dad to get back from that thing in Michigan. He's not going to know you're here, since you took a bus most of the way.'

'You've planned this for a while, haven't you?' Sam realised. He leaned against the edge of the window to look at his brother through the open passenger window, and appreciated the efforts Dean had made to ensure their plan would work.

'Yeah.' Dean admitted. 'You said you wanted to live a normal life, and I know you'll do anything to go to college. The way I see it, now you get to start over. I can't say I approve, but...well, what can I say? You're my brother.'

'I don't know how I could possibly thank you.' Sam inhaled a sharp breath, determined to remain strong for one last time. 'Will I ever see you again?'

'Probably not.' Dean stated honestly. 'But if you ever run into trouble, you call me.'

'I will.' Sam promised and straightened with a huff of dread.

'Bye, Sammy.' Dean tried to smile, then looked away and gripped the steering wheel.

He didn't want to leave, or let his little brother go, but Dean knew if he wasn't the one to do it than neither of them would be able to follow through with their decision. For years he'd watched Sam agonise over the dangerous and scary lives they'd lived, and Dean had been powerless to protect his baby brother from the nightmares or tears. Now he had the chance to give Sam what he'd always wanted, yet thought he'd never have.

A normal life.

Dean was convinced Sam was going to be okay, but he was already broken inside. To go back to John and face the fact their family was a member less was going to be extremely difficult, but not harder than leaving Sam behind. When Dean found out about Sam's adamant plans to go to college, he knew it was inevitable that one day Sam wasn't going to be around. He worried if Sam told John that, or was forced to walk out on their family, then Dean might never see his brother again. At least this way Sam would be happier, and Dean knew where he was. He'd been Sam's protector since he was four-years-old, and he couldn't be that anymore – only his secret-keeper.

Dean felt if he really wanted to save Sammy, he had to let him go.

'Goodbye, Dean.' Sam muttered.

He watched his brother and the Impala vanish into the darkness of the night. He remained still for a moment longer, listening to the fading hum of the Impala, then turned towards the Sheriff building. He had barely taken two steps when a prickling feeling on the back of his neck made him think he was being watched. Looking around for a confirmation, Sam saw someone his age standing across the street. He was tall and dark-haired like Sam, and also stared back at him, then walked away.

Sam was a bit confused by the brief moment, wondering who else would be walking the streets of the small town at such a hour. Sighing, he resumed his path to the building and dropped onto the steps. This part of the plan was his own, as Sam propped his duffel bag of clothes against the side wall near the door and rested his head against it.

He doubted it was possible, but he hoped to catch a few extra hours of sleep before the sun came up and the reality of what he'd done would sink in.

~ DD ~

'Hey, kid!' A voice jerked Sam from his slumber many hours later.

His first reaction was to argue he wasn't a "kid", until he remembered the events of the previous day and quickly opened his eyes. A Sheriff's Officer was standing over him, with the name-tag "Ken" labelled on the front of his uniform. Sam was surprised that not only had he woken as calmly as he did (considering his previous lifestyle of danger and lethal training), but the sounds of the busy town around him had not disturbed him sooner.

'What are you doing out here?' Ken asked.

'I, uh...' Sam groaned from the awkward sleeping position and yawned.

He grabbed his bags and got to his feet, finding amusement in standing over the stranger who was clearly a lot older than he was. Ken was somewhat short and chubby, and while Sam was used to being tall for his age, the relief of not having John wake him in a bout of fury made everything seem interesting.

'I don't know.' He lied effectively. 'I mean, I've got nowhere else to go.'

Ken looked him over, and noticed the three bags the teenager had with him, then sighed heavily and nodded his head.

'Alright.' Ken said. 'Come inside. We'll call your parents and have them pick you up.'

'They won't.' Sam told him as he followed the officer into the building lobby, and felt uncomfortable about willingly walking into a place of law enforcement.

'My mum died when I was really young. My dad...well, we never get along.' Sam continued. 'He was angry, and went to get some more whiskey. The last thing I remember is going to a bus station and then ending up here. He told me to get as far away as possible, so I did.'

'You ran away?' Ken raised his eyebrow. 'What's your name, kid?'

'I'm sixteen.' Sam frowned slightly. 'And my name's Sam Winchester.'

'Don't know any Winchesters around these parts of town.' Ken commented. 'Stay put.' The officer pointed to a nearby chair across from the counter.

Sam nodded politely and went to sit down, piling his three bags onto his lap as he waited. It was nerve-wrecking to give truthful details, but he and Dean were convinced it was the easiest way to get the plan to work. All the officers had to do was suspect he was the son of John Winchester, the recently declared former marine "murderer", and they'd know Sam really didn't have anywhere better to go. The idea of a foster home or orphanage was not at all ideal and Dean had protested against it the entire drive, but Sam was willing to endure either option if it meant he had somewhere to stay and could go to school long enough to graduate. After that, he would be free to got to college and that was when Sam believe he could finally live his own life.

He did his best to look sad and innocent (or use what Dean called his "puppy dog eyes"), while he discreetly listened to Ken's conversation with Deputy Clayton, who was a balding man with a business-like expression and posture. They kept looking over at Sam with expressions of uncertainty and pity, while using phrases like "he's safer here" or "poor kid", and "what should we do with him?".

Finally, after quite some time, Deputy Clayton approached Sam with a cautious expression and rested his thumbs on his belt, as though he was preparing to deliver some terrible news.

'Sam, do you have any other relatives you could stay with?' Clayton asked.

'No.' Sam answered carefully, sticking to the responses he and Dean had discussed. 'Not that I know of. Most of them died. I don't know how, but my dad said they're gone.'

'Hm.' Clayton and Ken exchanged nervous glances. 'Well, the nearest orphanage is hours away, and they're full. There aren't many foster homes in this part of Lowell County, though there's a farmer just outside of town who'd be willing to take you in until we can figure out where to go from there.'

'Okay, sure.' Sam nodded, feeling relieved by the offer and more hopeful about the situation than he'd been hours earlier.

'I don't want to live on the streets. Thank you.' Sam smiled and faked a teary expression, knowing he had to take advantage of their sympathy so things would work in his favour. 'I've always wanted to stay on a farm.'

'You're welcome, kid.' Clayton calmed when Sam just looked like a lost child, regardless of being the youngest son of a supposedly very dangerous man. 'I'll give him a call, and he'll come pick you up.'

'I appreciate that.' Sam nodded. 'What's he like?'

'His name is Charlie Wyatt. He's not as young as he used to be, but he's a good man.' Clayton answered while gesturing Ken to call Charlie. 'His wife passed away a few years ago, and the whole town still misses her. Annie Wyatt loved children, and was a dedicated foster parent, which is why Charlie told us if an emergency ever came up...well, here we are.'

Sam offered a small, but genuine, smile when he heard the information. He thought he was getting a better chance at a more normal life than he'd imagined he could. An orphanage in a distant city was the worse case scenario, and instead Sam was blessed to be staying with a farmer not far from town.

'Charlie lives on Hickory Lane, which is only about seven minutes from town. He gets along well with his closest neighbours, the Kents, so you'll probably meet them as well. They have an adopted son about your age, I believe.' Clayton talked, likely to keep the moment from falling into an awkward silence.

'Charlie said he'll be right over to get the kid.' Ken returned, to which Sam had to bite back a reminder about his age.

'Good.' Clayton nodded. 'Good. Sam, if you can just fill out some forms...'

~ DD ~

Sam, having vacated his chair to stand closer to the door, leaned against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He watched Charlie enter the building to head for the counter, where Deputy Clayton was waiting for him with a pile of forms. They talked for a while and, in his impatience, Sam almost wished he was close enough to hear what they said about him.

With nothing else to do, Sam observed Charlie with interest and distrust, only because he was a stranger and yet Sam would be staying with him for a while. The moustached man was dressed in typical farmer clothes with boots, jeans, and flannel. He was skinny and had greying hair, which was barely visible under his faded red baseball cap.

'You're Sam?' Charlie approached him and looked upwards. 'What's with younger generations these days? And I thought Clark Kent was tall.' He chuckled.

'It's nice to meet you, sir.' Sam said instantly, going from brooding to friendly in a split second. 'Thank you so much for letting me stay with you.'

'That's quite alright, lad.' Charlie nodded. 'Let's be going then, eh? I've got crops to tend to and cows to milk.'

'Right.' Sam nodded and retrieved his bags from the floor at his feet.

He didn't have time to acknowledge the watchful gazes he received from the others, as he awkwardly hurried to keep up with the surprisingly fast Charlie. They reached an aged blue pick-up truck parked outside in the same place the Impala had been. Sam hesitated, then tossed his bags into the back and got into the passenger seat.

'So, Sam.' Charlie tried to make a conversation on the slow drive out of town. 'You're a lucky lad - showing up out of nowhere, then having somewhere to stay in a matter of hours. Clayton tells me you'll even be enrolled at the high school in time for tomorrow morning. He knows Principal Riggs from their weekly poker nights, though. I'm sure that helps.' He commented.

'That's great.' Sam said with a smile, glad the next day was Monday because he had no idea what to do when he wasn't attending school. 'I mean, yeah. I'm really lucky.'

He turned to look outside the dusty window to watch the passing country landscape they drove by. Charlie glanced at him and assumed the teenager wanted to be left to his thoughts, and he did. Sam was relieved that everything was going well, but he still didn't like the fact he was leaving Dean behind. His brother had made a huge sacrifice for him, which was possibly the only time Dean had truly gone against their dad. He was giving up his brother, just so Sam had a chance to be happy in a way Dean didn't think any hunter could ever be. Sam had wanted out of the life long before he'd properly been in it.

And now, thanks to Dean, he was on his way to having the more normal life he's always wanted.

'Here we are.' Charlie said as he drove the truck up the dirt driveway, parking not far from a large work shed and a tall grain silo.

Sam got out and looked around with fascination, seeing mostly crops and farming fields all around him. The paint-peeling white house was towards his right, which was where Charlie headed so Sam grabbed his bags and hurried after the farmer. He stepped into the porch, passing a lazy-looking ginger cat, and headed inside the house. It was simply furnished with outdated decorations and upkeep. Sam suspected Charlie no longer cared for things like a lovely house since his wife had died, since it looked as faded as a memory of something that had once been very homey.

It wasn't great, but Sam was still glad to be there.

'You room is upstairs.' Charlie pointed to the staircase nearby. 'First door on the right.'

'Thanks.' Sam nodded and went to the stairs, taking one step at a time to view the framed pictures on the wall along the way.

He saw a younger Charlie with who he presumed was Annie Wyatt. There was a large picture of their wedding in a flowery garden, where Charlie's face was bright with joy and Annie looked beautiful with her curly hair and soulful eyes. The next photo was of the pair years later, with a smiling boy seated between them on the couch, then another of just Annie standing on the porch with several children around her. Sam felt he was going to like staying in the house, because it had once been a real home.

Not his home personally, but a home nonetheless.

Reaching the guest room he'd be staying in, Sam dumped his bags on the single bed covered with a thick patched quilt. He had a desk and wooden chair, a wardrobe, some shelves, and a bedside table with a old-fashioned lamp. Looking through the window, Sam couldn't help noticing how easily he could unlatch it and slip onto the wide branches of the oak tree outside.

Sighing, he sank onto the edge of the bed and found it impossible to believe that only two days ago he'd been going over research to confirm the Supernatural cause of death of a brutally disfigured woman. Now Sam was entirely on his own, separate from his family and the only life he'd ever known.

A part of Sam briefly wished he was back in the Impala, arguing with Dean about how bad an idea the entire situation was. Either way, Sam was content and willing to do everything he could to make this work.

It was his last chance to be normal.

Sam tried not to think about it, and wasn't sure how to spend the afternoon, but the decision was made for him mere minutes later. He paused and listened to Charlie calling up the stairs to him, saying he was going out to use the tractor in a nearby field. He told Sam to help himself to the fridge and TV, and then left the house with the screen door swinging soundly shut behind him.

Sam sighed loudly and got up from the bed. He made his way downstairs and walked to the fridge, looking through it for something to eat as it'd been a while since he'd had anything. Making a sandwich, Sam wondered how his dad was going to react once he found his son gone with nothing more than a note left behind only to assure him he hadn't been kidnapped. It would be another day or two before John would realise, and by then Dean would honestly be hunting a werewolf far away from Kansas

Dean hadn't given many details, but had assured Sam the situation with their dad and his disappearance would be taken care of. The shortest time he could grant Sam was until graduation, and both were convinced that was all the time he needed to get ready for college. By that point, Sam would legally be an adult and John's control over his life would be significantly lessened.

Switching on the old TV, Sam snorted at the poor image of the back and white Western channel. It was so dull and simple, yet Sam loved the sense of normalcy being on the farm already provided. He was standing in a living room, eating a sandwich, and wishing there was something good on TV to pass the time. How much more normal could it possibly get? Despite his worries and discomfort of the unfamiliarity, Sam managed a wide smile of victory.

He had a long way to go, but things in his life were finally looking up.

~ DD ~

The afternoon passed by at a slow pace, which Sam tried not to complain about because he assumed it was part of being normal.

He spent some time sitting on the porch with the slumbering cat that chose to ignore his existence, then wandered around the shed and overlooked the fields on a sloped hill out the back. He'd never had so much space available to him before, and it was incredibly freeing to overlook the vast land stretching as far as he could see, all the way to the distant horizon.

After an hour or so, Sam returned to the place he referred to as "his room" and started to unpack. It was the most wonderful thing he'd done in a very long time. Sam lifted clothes from his bag and folded them perfectly so the task took even longer. He placed flannel and plain shirts in his drawer, then numerous pairs of jeans. Each item was acknowledged as it went into its new place, inside a drawer that was entirely Sam's to use. Jackets went to the closet, and the few books he'd brought with him were placed on the shelves resting against the wall above his desk.

Sam, in all his memory, never had his own bedroom before.

He'd stayed in houses of family friends, and in countless motel rooms since he'd been almost a year old. At Charlie's house he had his own room - a place where his single bed was only for him to sleep in, and the furniture was filled with his belongings that didn't need to be packed up again every few weeks or so. If he wanted to, Sam could stick a poster on the wall or leave behind a little mess to show it was personally his. On that thought, he paused when his hand brushed an unknown object at the bottom of his last bag. Sam reached inside and found something badly wrapped in newspaper.

'Dean.' He gulped back his emotions, thinking of the one thing from his old life he never wanted to lose.

His brother might have helped with the plan, but Dean had never agreed to it, not really. And yet, he'd managed to sneak in a farewell package for his little brother. In his own way, Sam knew it was Dean's method of saying he was going to miss him and hoped he'd get to have the happy, normal life Sam so desperately wanted.

Peeling back the newspaper, Sam sank onto the edge of the bed and blinked back tears that threatened to break his determination. Inside the newspaper were only a few things, but Sam lifted each out with consideration. There was a Metallica poster, which he opened with a chuckle and moved to pin it to his wall between the desk and chest of drawers. The next item was a CD, which Sam suspected was filled with rock music, and the final item was a photograph.

It showed Sam and Dean, at ages 11 and 15, standing in front of the Impala with grins on their faces.

Picking it up, Sam noticed a note drop onto the floor and quickly retrieved it. It was extremely short, but written in Dean's handwriting: "Don't forget what you're leaving behind. It wasn't all bad. Stay safe, bro." Reading the note of honest goodbye, Sam almost crumbled and changed his mind right then. Instead, he sat in silence on the bed and stared at the picture gripped carefully in his hands. When he finally looked away, he realised his room was much darker. Wondering how long he'd sat there, Sam put the CD on his desk and tucked the note inside its case.

The photo was placed on his bedside table, then he walked to the door and headed downstairs.

'You hungry?' Charlie asked him when he saw the teenager descended the steps.

'A bit.' Sam sighed, looking towards the old farmer standing over a pot in the kitchen.

'Annie, bless her heart, tried to teach me to cook as good as her.' Charlie said as he stirred the soup-like substance of meat and vegetables. 'Luckily, I was a decent student.' He said with amusement but looked away, clearly still pained to think of his deceased wife.

'How did she die?' Sam asked carefully.

'She was sick.' Charlie stated. 'And didn't get better.'

'I'm sorry.' Sam sighed, moving to set the table in effort to make himself useful.

'You ever lost someone?' Charlie wondered.

'My mum.' He said truthfully. 'But I was a baby when she died.'

Charlie nodded and didn't ask how, or continue their conversation. He served the meal into two bowls and placed them on the table. The pair sat down to eat without saying much else, until they were finished and Sam turned to head back to his room.

'Sam.' Charlie said firmly. 'There's something you need to know.'

'Uh, okay.' Sam said as he halted a foot from the bottom step.

'Smallville is a town you need to get used to.' Charlie began. 'It's a strange place where things can't always be explained, or understood. You're gonna fit right in - you're not like most lads your age, I can tell.'

'What do you mean?' Sam asked anxiously. 'How strange?'

'The important thing here, Sam, is that someone like you just showing up without a place to stay is not the weirdest thing to have happened in these parts.' Charlie continued. 'Even so, there was a lot of doubt about why you did, but I know the truth. I can see it in your eyes. You're here for a reason. Whatever you're running from, I don't need to know. I can tell you're a good kid, and that's why I'm letting you stay. I'm old, I can't do much for you other than give you a place to sleep.'

'And I really appreciate that.' Sam insisted, though wondered how Charlie could know the thing's he'd accurately assumed.

'You can stay here as long as possible.' Charlie added. 'I'll help you with the stuff you need for school and all that, but in exchange I have only one request. You must never lie to me.' He frowned to show he was very serious. 'Never. One lie, and you're out. And believe me, I know a lie when I hear one. Annie always believed in people, but I'm a realist. You're a teenager, so you're going to make mistakes and sooner or later get into some variety of trouble. It's a part of growing up, lad. There's no escaping it.'

Sam remained still as he listened, gulping at what he was being told but had no idea how he was supposed to react to it. He also didn't like being told he was going to get into trouble one way or another, as it was what he was hoping to avoid completely. He'd had enough trouble to last him a lifetime, Sam thought.

'If you sneak out at night to see a girl, or end up in a fight at school...whatever it may be, either you tell me the truth or let me know you don't want to talk about it.' Charlie elaborated. 'I'm not much of a talker myself, but lying I won't forgive. You can do chores, and help out around the farm too. I could sure use an extra pair of hands, and as Jonathan Kent would say: work keeps a man honest. Don't lie to me, and we'll never have any problems.'

'I think I can manage that.' Sam nodded.

'Oh, and if you and some buddies end up in a cell for a night for some reckless joyride or whatever, don't expect me to bail you out for at least 24 hours.' Charlie grunted. 'I didn't say I'd tolerate the trouble you lot get into these days, but either I don't want to know about it, or when I do I get the truth. Promise me that, Sam, and I'll do all I can to keep you here until you graduate.'

'I promise, sir.' Sam said strongly, thinking it wasn't too unreasonable and he had quite a bit of freedom as well. 'That's all I ask, for a place to stay until I can make it on my own.'

'Good.' Charlie nodded and held out his hand for Sam to shake in agreement to their terms.

Sam reached over and grasped the man's hand, sealing the deal with confidence that he had everything he needed to start building his normal life away from vengeful spirits and weapon training.

Tomorrow he would start school and his new life would officially begin, though Sam had no idea how far from normal it was going to be.

Author's Notes: I would really appreciate any feedback you can give me so far. This is just the prologue to show how Sam ended up in Smallville, so the focus is mostly on him at the moment though I plan on dividing the POV between Clark and Sam most chapters instead of just one for most of the time as it's both their journey. What do you think of things so far, like Charlie and where Sam's staying? Any requests? Please review!