Author's Note: I started this several years ago (in 2008, I think). That would put it after season 4 of Supernatural and I'm not sure where in Smallville. Chloe's still pining after Clark, and Clark is not with Lois. I've never been a big Smallville person, so forgive me for any inaccuracies. I wrote this for my friend with whom I always argue that Supernatural is better than Smallville (quality-wise whether you like it better or not). He responds by making fun of Jensen Ackles because he didn't like his character on Smallville. I was in a silly mood and came up with this. Going through my writing stuff last night, I came across it and finished it. The ending kind of sucks. Sorry about that. Maybe you'll get some laughs anyway.

Dean Winchester and Clark Kent Meet in a Bar

While Sam had gone to check into the motel they had seen while traveling through this Podunk town called Smallville, Dean decided to get a feel for the night life and find a bar. He stumbled across a place called The Talon.

As he entered the bar, Dean decided he found the locals a bit, well, strange. Conversation ceased when he entered, and all eyes turned to stare at him. A dark-haired guy dressed in red and blue (and don't think Dean didn't roll his eyes at that) stood and puffed his chest out. "You!" he yelled, glaring a death glare. "I'm not going to let you hurt these people, Jason!"

Dean cocked an eyebrow at Superman-lite. "Jason? Dude, you need to chill. I don't know who you think I am, but my name's not Jason. The name's Dean. I'm just passing through and needed a drink." He ignored the glare and stepped around the overly earnest man to plop down on a barstool. The waitress was cute with her pixie blonde hair, so he winked at her. "Hey, sweetheart, got any whiskey in this place?"

The smile the girl plastered on her face dripped with acid. "Sorry, this is a coffee bar."

Dean didn't bother to hide his horror. "Coffee bar? That's just stupid. At least tell me you've got pie in this place."

The waitress was not charmed. "We've got pecan. Take it or leave it."

Dean shrugged. "I'll take it. Make it a generous slice, darling," he told her, smiling and putting as much charm as he could into it. Most women would have been disarmed, but this woman was apparently not most women. She just rolled her eyes and went to get the pie. She cut the smallest piece Dean had ever seen, loaded it on a plate, and plunked it in front of him.

She then turned to the man who had yelled at Dean as he came in. "Do you need anything, Clark?" she asked with a puppy-dog look on her face.

The man called Clark shook his head. "No, I'm good, Chloe."

She smiled, unable to keep the hopeful look from her face. "Okay. Let me know if you do."

Clark nodded absently in response, his eyes narrowed at Dean. He took the barstool next to him, careful to keep his back turned away from him. "I don't know what your game is, Jason," he told Dean, "but I won't let you get away with it."

Dean sighed and shoveled half of the piece of pie into his mouth. "Can't a guy just enjoy some pie in peace?" he asked with his mouth full.

Clark continued as if Dean hadn't spoken. "I don't know how you're not dead, Jason, but I intend to fix that."

Dean shoved in the last of the pie and pushed the plate away from him. He turned to Clark and threw up his hands. "You know what? Fine. It's not like there is anything else to do in this place. I'll bite. Who's Jason?"

Clark tried to gauge what 'Jason' was up to. "You are," he said in a condescending tone.

"Right," Dean replied. "But humor me and let's pretend like I'm not."

Clark relaxed just slightly. "Are you sure you don't recognize me?" he asked.

"I'm sure, buddy."

"You're sure you've never coached football at Smallville High?"

Dean could feel himself getting annoyed. "I'm sure I've never coached football anywhere."

Clark sized him up again. "It's just that you look exactly like this guy who coached me in high school. He went crazy and held me and my family at gunpoint, so I'm sure you can understand why I am a little cautious."

Dean nodded as things finally started to make sense. "I can probably explain that," he said. He nodded at Chloe. "Sure you haven't found that whiskey yet?" he asked.

Chloe crossed her arms in front of her and cocked an eyebrow.

Dean sighed. "Alright, fine, get me some milk then."

Chloe glared. "What's the magic word?"

Dean laughed in genuine amusement. "Please," he replied with a smile.

Despite herself, Chloe smiled back. She could feel herself softening to this man who looked like her friend's psycho ex. She glanced to see if anyone was paying attention. A couple of people seemed interested in what was going on but for the most part, everyone had gone back to what they were doing before the new guy had come in. Chloe reached under the counter and pulled out a bottle of tequila. "I don't have any whiskey," she said, "but I'm willing to share this."

Dean looked at the bottle then slid his eyes up to her face. He grinned slowly and in a way that caused her to blush. "And I thought Smallville was going to be boring," he said. He nodded at Clark. "Pour one for my friend, too."

Clark held up a hand. "Chloe, I don't think I should…"

Chloe waved his concerns away. She set a coffee mug in front of him and filled it with tequila. "Live a little, Clark," she said. She poured another mug for Dean and left the bottle within reach. She then excused herself to wait on the customers.

Dean chugged a large drink before turning to Clark. "We haven't been properly introduced," he said and stuck out his hand. "Dean Winchester."

Clark looked at the proffered hand for a moment before taking it. "Clark Kent."

Dean laughed and took another drink. "Parents, huh? Gotta love them."

Clark looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Dean looked at Clark like he was stupid. "Oh come on. Clark Kent? You live in a town called Smallville? Your parents seriously need to lay off the comic books."

At Clark's blank look, Dean squinted at him. "You don't seriously expect me to believe that you don't know who Superman is, do you?"
"Superman? What's that?"

Dean snorted in disbelief. "Are you serious? You don't know who Superman is? He's a superhero. His alter ego's Clark Kent. He grew up in Smallville with adopted parents after a meteor shower deposited him on planet Earth. Any of this ringing any bells?"

Clark looked thoughtful. "Superman, huh? That's way better than the Red-Blue Blur."

It was Dean's turn to look lost. "Red-Blue Blur?"

Clark waved away the question. "It's just the name the papers gave this guy who's been going around and doing good deeds. He's like a red-blue blur he's so fast."

"That's dumb," Dean replied. "Just really dumb. Maybe the stupidest name I've ever heard."

Clark took that in. "You're right it is," he said thoughtfully. He shook it off and focused once again at the matter at hand. "But enough about that. You said you could explain how you were dead but could still be here."

Dean shrugged. "You probably won't believe me."

Clark gave him a look. "You might be surprised."

"Well, it was probably a shape shifter, and I hate to break it to you, but it's probably not dead. It probably just looks like someone else now."

Clark was unfazed. "I've seen worse."

Dean gave him a look of begrudging respect. "So have I," he said and tipped his glass at him.

Clark stared at the mug in front of him. He hesitated then grabbed it and drank it all in one gulp.

Dean was impressed. "Your friend made it seem like you didn't drink much," he said.

Clark shook his head against the burning in his throat. "I don't," he said.

Dean laughed. "I think this night is about to get way more fun, Clark," he said. He sloshed back the rest of his drink, grabbed the bottle, and slapped Clark on the back. "Come on. Let's get out of here. See where the night takes us. There's got to be something to do in this hole in the wall."

Clark stumbled out with Dean and climbed into the Impala. They drove around and ended up in a cornfield. Dean chugged back some more tequila and offered the bottle to Clark. "I take it back. There is nothing to do in this place."

Clark laughed and took the bottle. He finished it off in one impressive chug. Dean dug around in his car and found an unopened bottle of whiskey. He tipped it toward Clark. "Sometimes you have to bring your own entertainment."

Clark grabbed the bottle away from him and started drinking. Dean tried to take it back, but Clark moved so fast he seemed to blur before Dean's eyes. He didn't feel drunk, but Dean supposed that he must be.

"The least you could do is share," he told Clark somewhat petulantly.

Clark downed the bottle until there was a little less than a fourth left then handed it back to Dean who finished it off.

Dean laughed drunkenly. "Son of a bitch. We are going to be so wasted in a minute," he predicted.

Clark laughed with him, not sure what was so funny but unable to stop laughing.

True to Dean's prediction, they were both soon feeling the effects of the alcohol. They began to talk, and the more they talked, the more morose they became.

"I really just wished my dad would have loved me like he did my brother," Dean said. "Stuff like that eats at you, ya know?"

Clark nodded very seriously. "Daddy issues, huh? I hear ya. My adopted dad and I mainly got along great, but my real dad can be a pain."

Dean giggled. "No way. Your name is Clark Kent, you live in Smallville, and you were adopted? That is too weird."

Clark steadied himself with a breath and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "What if I told you that I also came to earth in a meteor shower? What would you say to that?"

Dean was drunk enough that he didn't laugh but considered Clark very seriously. "Are you saying that you are actually the Superman? If you're really telling me that superheroes exist, then I gotta say my life just got tons better."

"I go by the Red-Blue Blur, but yeah, I'm him."

Dean squinted at him. "Dude, you seriously need to get rid of that awful name."

"It's pretty bad, isn't it?" Clark agreed with a laugh.

Dean nodded his agreement. "Since you're sharing so much, I guess I could let you in on a secret, too."

Clark considered him warily. "If you are about to reveal that you are Jason, I gotta say, most of the times you bad guys take one of my friends before you come after me."

Dean shook his head. "I'm not this Jason person. I am a demon hunter. Mainly we just call it hunting, though. We fight the bad things that go bump in the night."

"Demons, huh?" Clark said thoughtfully. "I never gave much thought to them. I've had my hands full with meteor-created people since I was a kid. Dealing with them has pretty much been my reality."

"If superheroes exist, I guess supervillians have to, too," Dean reasoned. "Makes sense."

Clark considered Dean. "Do you like what you do? You know, saving people?"

Dean shrugged. He tried to make light of what he was saying, but Clark could see the pain he was in. "Well, you know, some days are better than others. Saving the world's pretty awesome, but after awhile it can become old. It always seems like a new year, a new apocalypse, know what I'm saying? I sometimes think I would like to settle down with a pretty girl and have a family. I can't really see that happening, though, so I take what I can get when I can get it." He flashed Clark a grin. "And I get a lot."

Clark grabbed him by his shoulders and gave him a shake. He leaned back onto the hood of the car and stared up at the stars. "Don't hide the pain, Dean. I understand. It feels like the weight of the world is resting on my shoulders. There is a whole network of people who are counting on me. Sometimes I just don't think it's worth it. It seems like humanity is nothing more than pain and hate. I can't save these people, and I'm not sure I want to."

Dean looked perplexed. "Did we fall into Bizarro world? You're not supposed to give up on humanity and tell us all to go screw ourselves. You're Superman. You save us from the evil Lex Luthor and pine after Lois Lane."

"Lois? What are you talking about? I don't like Lois." He paused and thought for a moment. "Do I?"

Dean laughed. "I'm going to guess that if you don't you will," he said. "Either way, you can't give up. You're a hero. Rah-rah. Fight the powers of darkness without a thought for self. All that bull."

Clark shook his head at Dean. "You just don't understand. I've had to deal with some bad stuff. It's left me in a dark place."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah? Go to hell for a hundred years, then we'll talk about dark places."

Clark wasn't sure what Dean was talking about, so he changed the subject. "The stars are bright tonight."

Dean fell back drunkenly onto the hood of the car beside Clark. "Yep," he agreed.

"Have you ever seen stars like that before, Dean?" Clark wondered.

Dean shrugged. "I was born in Lawrence, so I guess so."

Clark got unduly excited. "Lawrence, Kansas?"

Dean nodded. "Yep."

Clark grabbed Dean into a hug. "We gotta stick together Dean. People from Kansas stick together."

Any other night, Dean would have felt compelled to grab the shotgun in his trunk and at the very least threaten Clark with it for having the audacity to hug him. He did not do hugs. Tonight, Dean was just amused with Clark's sloppy drunkenness. He laughed and collapsed back on the car's hood and was soon asleep.

In the morning, he had a crick in his neck, a pain in his back, and a headache the size of Manhattan. Clark was nowhere to be found, so Dean crawled into the Impala, found Sam, and they were soon on their way.

From his perch on the water tower, Clark watched as the black Impala drove out of town. His face was troubled as he considered all that he had learned last night. There were definitely holes in his memory, but he knew one thing for certain: It was time to retire the Red-Blue Blur. A super man needed a super name.