Hi Guys, hope you are all well. Here is chapter 3, I hope you enjoy.

Much love to all readers (and especially reviewers 😚 😚 😚 you guys are so awesome)

Now & Then Chapter 3 - St Michael's Home for Boys

now&then

"It looked just like him," Sam was whispering, mostly to himself. John was pacing the motel room in which he and Bobby had been staying. The boys had their own adjoining room next door but Sam was currently sitting on John and Bobby's bed, eyes wide and staring. Adam was perched next to his big brother looking around at all of them, confused. Bobby had poured some whiskey and was forcing the glass into John's hand.

"I don't understand, looked like who?" Adam asked. He'd stayed quiet until then, expecting someone would explain but so far no one had. John was looking at his whiskey as if unsure what to do with it and Sam still didn't move. It was Bobby that turned to Adam with a sympathetic look and spoke quietly.

"The boy you saw today, he looked like Dean."

"Dean? Like Sam's brother?" Adam was waiting for someone to yell April fools, even though it was August. Dean was dead, wasn't he?

"Dean is your brother too," Bobby said kindly.

"But he's …" He didn't dare say dead, both John and Sam were now looking at him. "I mean how can he be …" he looked between them all.

"We don't know if it is him. We don't know anything yet," John snapped, making the boy flinch.

Bobby threw John a reproachful look before trying to speak more gently to Adam. "We'll check it out and when we know more, we'll know what to do next." His voice wavered slightly with his own emotions but he pushed them down, their family needed him to be the strong one right now.

"He didn't know me," Sam whispered. They all looked at the pale and shaking twelve-year-old. The tension dropped from John's shoulders and moisture brightened his eyes slightly. He came over to crouch before his son, resting his hands on the boy's knees. Sam met his father's eyes and tried to hold back the tears from his own. "He didn't … I was a stranger to him." Sam's eyes were pleading his father for something but John had little he could give.

"We don't know if it's him," Sam's eyes had filled with tears, "and if it is," John pressed on, reassuringly, "we don't know what happened to him or how he ended up here." It wasn't much but it was the most John could give in that moment. Sam nodded. Catching his little brother's white face in the corner of his eye, he sniffed and tried to pull himself together.

"You're right, we need to do research." Sam straightened his shoulders and forced a small smile at his little brother. "Sorry Damn, I didn't mean to freak out on you."

Adam shrugged and smiled, just glad Sam seemed to be returning to himself.

"OK, Adam," Bobby has straightened up to his 'take command' posture. "We need you to go through everything that was said, done, thought, everything, from when you first met this boy. John, you stay here with the boys. I'll go see what I can dig up on St Michael's and its occupants." John's gaze queried the stay home order and Bobby tilted his head to call John to the corner of the room.

"We need to keep a clear head here," Bobby hissed in the corner. There was no way John was going to be able to do that, whether this boy was Dean or not. Losing Mary had nearly killed him but losing Dean had been worse. It was like it had killed him, a big part of him anyway. Even now, there were times when John struggled to keep functioning. Only his other boys held him together. Well Bobby hoped he helped a little too. That and the vague hope that Dean might still be out there somewhere.

If something was using the form of their missing son, regardless of its intentions, their retribution would be swift and final. But, if this was Dean, they would do anything to get him back, to have him home, anything but lose either of their other two boys.

The storm in John's eyes was slowly contained behind thick glass windows of practicality. He nodded to Bobby.

"Boys, go next door and grab your stuff, you're sleeping in here with us for now," John barked out. Sam and Adam glanced at each other as they stood. They were unsurprised by the order.

now&then

Bobby paused outside the building for The St Michael's Home for Boys. John was going to be furious he'd come here alone. He knew he'd given the impression he'd be researching from a distance. But the fastest most efficient way to get answers was in person and, no matter how much it might piss John off, Bobby knew they needed answers fast. Besides, Bobby was used to dealing with John's anger and he wasn't about to let it put the stubborn sonofabitch in danger.

John was an incredible hunter, probably the best Bobby had ever even heard of - that most had ever heard of - but the man could be a loose cannon at the best of times. Throw his boys into the mix and audacity quickly slipped into recklessness. Until they knew more, Bobby didn't want him anywhere near this.

With everything they knew, and the luck of the Winchesters, the chances were this was not Dean. Which meant it was something dangerous, and the way it had approached Adam first was worrying. Of course that could just be because he was the only one of them that had never met the real Dean.

It meant watching their boys was paramount and anyway, Sam needed his dad. Poor kid was a mess, unsurprisingly. After the loss of his brother, he had turned his considerable brain power to hunting and he was as sharp as they come. But anything to do with Dean made him unglue. John too.

Even if, for once, they had received a miracle, even if – and Bobby barely dared let himself even think it – this really was their Dean … Hell, Bobby wasn't sure how he was going to handle seeing this boy, not that he was planning on that happening during this visit. But John's bull in a china shop approach was likely to scare the kid to death, whether he remembered them or not. All in all, Bobby had damn good reason for wanting John to stay away.

He sat down opposite a middle-aged woman with a severe dress code but kind eyes. They didn't yet know enough about the people who ran this place to be too open. So he'd introduced himself to Barbara Lewis, who ran the home, as a private investigator working for a lawyer. He advised he was looking for a boy whose parents had divorced when he was young. The mother had won full custody but the boy had later been taken from her. He was working for the father, he said, who was hoping to be reunited with his son. The search was complicated because she had changed the child's name after the divorce.

"We get a lot of boys through here," Barbara said vaguely, inspecting the hastily forged paperwork Bobby had provided, giving him permission to make his enquiries. "While we would never want to keep a child from a loving home, I am sure you appreciate not all homes are loving." After a moment inspecting the official seals, she seemed satisfied. "I admit I don't have a lot of contact with all of the children. You can speak to the house-matron, but you'd be best off talking to the Kid."

"The kid?" Bobby queried.

"One of our older boys. He's really good with the youngsters." She indicated one of the pictures on the shelf behind her. It was the image of Dean Winchester, grinning awkwardly. Somehow the boy in the picture managed to display both a distinct desire not to be photographed and a hint of mischief.

"This kid have a name?" Bobby tried not to stare at the picture. The image was older than the Dean he remembered but there was little doubt it was the same boy, or a doppelganger.

"We don't know his name." She glanced down at the paperwork Bobby had handed her again, then looked into his eyes. She nodded to herself. "He showed up on our doorstep in the middle of the night over three years ago. He was alone and asked if he could stay if he worked for his keep. Since he was only about 12 at the time, of course we took him in. But he's never given us a name and we've never identified him." There was an odd mixture of sadness and affection in her expression. Over time 'hey kid' became what he is known as." She shrugged, there was a hint of embarrassment but if Kid didn't mind why should she?

"Is that usual? To be here that long?" If he'd been here three years it made it unlikely, whether really Dean or something using his image, that contact with the Winchesters was part of the plan.

"Unfortunately, for the older boys. But we are usually able to find homes for the younger ones. The Kid did have a family who were interested, some time back, but he refused."

Bobby raised his eyebrows at that, he doubted kids in orphanages rejected families often.

"He's a good boy, always doing odd jobs around the place, even though we told him he didn't need to. And like I said, he's great with the younger boys. Some of them are really traumatised when they arrive and he always looks after them."

Bobby was nodding, hiding his turmoil. It sounded like Dean and the timeline fit. But that just raised more questions.

"And this Kid, was he traumatised?"

"According to the official report, no." The woman pursed her lips, clearly angry. "I had him checked out when he first showed up. He had no obvious injuries, at least not recent ones, so they said he was fine." She took a deep breath calming herself. "But he either couldn't remember anything or was too scared to talk. Besides, no boy that age should be alone and … scarred … like that." It was one of the reasons she'd never pushed for the follow up investigation.

"Scarred?"

"Cuts, burns, even one that looks like a bullet wound. From the scars, it seems he had a number of serious injuries over a long period of time." Her eyes flashed angrily. "But he's never told us anything, and he's so capable it's easy to …" she waved a hand vaguely. "The only reason I can think that he's never said anything, even all these years later, is either he's blocked it out entirely or he's still scared."

She clearly had a great deal of affection for the Kid, along with being horrified at the idea of any child being hurt. Bobby wasn't surprised, Dean had that about him. He could be belligerent, hostile, and drive the Dalai Lama to throw a punch, but somehow people liked him anyway. Much as he tried to hide it, his good heart shone through and people were drawn to that.

Everything she'd said had supported the idea that this was Dean, that they had found him, but really Bobby hadn't needed it, Sam's face had been enough. So what the hell had happened and how the hell had he ended up here? And importantly, did he really not remember anything of his life before?

"Miss Lewis, I've finished the … oh, sorry." Both adults had turned and there he was. If there had been any doubt left in Bobby's mind the sight of the boy erased it. He was standing casually, smiling politely in apology for having interrupted. Bobby's eyes flickered over him, taking in everything while appearing to only glance.

"I believe we have talked about knocking," Miss Lewis reprimanded, though there was little heat behind it.

"Everyone is entitled to their beliefs," the boy grinned cheekily. She shook her head and controlled the small quirk at the corner of her mouth to give him a stern look. "Sorry, Mrs Lewis."

She softened instantly. "This is Mr Murtaugh." She indicated Bobby, who stood. The boy's eyes inspected the man sharply. As Sam had said, there was no hint of recognition. Not of the real kind anyway.

"Hey, aren't you one of Adam's dads?" he said after a moment. "Is he OK?"

Bobby rallied himself. Often the difference between a good hunter and a dead one was being able to stay in your legs in the face of a curveball.

"Yeah, he's fine. Sam too," he couldn't stop himself from adding. It was too strange for Sammy not to be the first thing Dean asked about.

"Mr Murtaugh is looking for a missing child. He thinks he may have come through here. I thought you might be able to help," Barbara explained.

"Why are you looking for him?" The boy demanded. There was suspicion and hostility in the tone and Bobby was sure they wouldn't get so much as a hello if Dean had the slightest hint there was anything untoward.

"His father believed him to be with his mother, it has recently come to light that may not be the case. If so he would like to be reunited," Bobby said diplomatically. "But firstly, we just want to make sure he's okay."

The Kid studied Bobby for a moment. It was a serious inspection, weighing his words.

"I'll talk to you," he finally said. "I'm not promising anything though."

"Fair enough," Bobby said.

The boy dismissed Bobby from his attention and turned back to Barbara. "Anyway, I finished sorting the boiler. It needs replacing really but it will hold for now."

"You're a good boy, Kid, thank you."

"Thought I'd start on the old music room tomorrow."

"There's really no need –"

"It just needs a fresh coat of paint and the extra space might stop me giving Malcolm a shime-waza nap," the Kid pressed on.

"You promised not to do that again," Barbara said sternly. Bobby raised an eyebrow at the implication that this Malcolm had already been rendered unconscious from the chokehold at least once.

"And he promised to stop being a di… annoyance." There was something contrite in the teen's face and Barbara softened. She was well aware of Malcolm's behaviour towards the Kid. While she couldn't sanctify the Kid's chosen form of defence, she wasn't unsympathetic. Especially given the restraint the Kid generally showed when he was clearly capable of doing significant harm.

"Fine, you can decorate the old music room. I'll get some of the others to help you - no not Malcolm - but you can't do it all yourself."

The kid grinned in victory.

"Well, I need to get back," Bobby said standing. It was all too much and he'd never intended to speak to the boy without John. Barbara looked surprised. "If it's okay with you," he smiled at her, "and the Kid, of course," he turned to throw a quick smile at the teenager before turning back to her. "Me and my partner will come by tomorrow, or maybe the day after?" John wouldn't want to wait but they couldn't seem too eager. Bobby had noticed the cautiousness in the boy and he didn't want to spook him.

"Kid, perhaps you'd be kind enough to show our guest out?" The boy looked like he didn't think much of this. "Please," Barbara said firmly, using her own manners as both example and demand. Kid stood more upright and Bobby recognised the stance from when he would obey his father's orders. Sam and Adam didn't have that, the loss of Dean had made John a very different parent.

The hunter and the teenager didn't speak as they walked to the front doors. The kid didn't seem inclined and Bobby had no idea what to say. Dean had grown tall, and would probably grow taller, but the gait was the same. As was the carefully portrayed casualness that mostly hid how alert to his surroundings the teenager actually was.

Having the boy that had been missing for four years, that they had almost given up as dead, now within arm's reach, it was hard not to grab him and hug him. Though Bobby was certain Dean would not take kindly to any attempt to do so.

They got to the door and the Kid paused. "Did you send Adam to talk to me to get information?"

The sudden accusation took Bobby off guard and his obvious bewilderment seemed to satisfy the kid even before he formed a response.

"No. We had nothing to do with you meeting him and he doesn't know I'm here now."

Dean opened the door, the gesture both polite and pointed. He'd accepted that Adam wasn't a plant but that didn't mean he trusted this guy. When Bobby started through it, the Kid smirked and said, "you know you picked a name that is obviously fake right? I mean, you seem more of a Columbo anyway."

Bobby chuckled and shook his head at the familiar attitude.

"You're in no position to mock another's name, Kid." The teasing comment was a reflex, he and Dean had always busted chops, but the moment it left his mouth, internally Bobby winced.

There was a slight brightening to the boy's eyes, but the casual shrug and masking smirk was all Dean. "You're not wrong," he said.

It was so Dean, Bobby's resolve waivered. But then the door closed and the kid was gone.

now&then

"It's him," Bobby said, walking back into the motel room and throwing his coat onto a bed.

"What?" John, who had been sitting at the table reading documents from his 'Dean' file, sprung up, knocking several pages to the floor, his chair falling over behind him with a bang. "You went to see him?" he added angrily.

Sam and Adam had been playing cards on the other bed but Sam's cards tumbled from his fingers and he was staring with a look that was both terrified and hopeful.

"No," Bobby said with forced calm. "I went to talk to the woman that runs the home." Adam opened his mouth to ask something but Bobby held up a hand to forestall him. "But I did see him."

"Bobby." John's anger was palpable, filling the room.

"John, calm down. He walked in on us, it wasn't planned." John was breathing hard, trying to contain himself, conscious the boys were in the room. But the bright eyes and tense muscles still seethed. Bobby gave him a knowing look. "I didn't say anything to him, not about –"

"Did you test him?" John demanded, his boiling anger still rattling his lid, though not quite blowing his top.

"Yeah, I stood in the middle of an orphanage and cut him with my silver knife before throwing holy water on him and performing an exorcism," Bobby said sarcastically. He tried, he really tried, not to react to John's temper most of the time.

John's face reddened. The atmosphere in the room crackled with hostility. "So what makes you so damn sure it's him?"

"He feels like Dean." Sam's voice was small and they all looked at him. From the corner of his eye, Bobby saw John's anger deflate in the face of Sam's pain. "Did he recognise you?" Sam asked.

"No, Kiddo, he didn't," Bobby reassured him gently.

Then Bobby smiled wryly and looked at Adam who had pulled his knees up and was watching them all, owl-like, over the top of them. "And there was a reason he didn't give you his name." He had noticed how the younger boy backed away and went silent whenever the subject of Dean came up, like he wasn't permitted to be a part of anything to do with his biggest brother. Interest sparked in the blue eyes, as Adam lifted his head a little so they were no longer the only part of his face in view.

"Why not?"

"He doesn't have one."

"What?" Sam and John said together. Adam just looked confused but the others looked horrified.

"I didn't get the whole story. He either doesn't know what his name is or just didn't tell anyone, but they all just call him The Kid."

Sam and John looked mortified but Adam grinned.

"Like Billy the Kid?" he said, trying not to laugh. Sam looked at him, and Adam tucked most of his face back behind his knees, worried he'd said the wrong thing.

Then Sam's lips twitched. "Dean would have … would love that," he said smiling at his little brother. His eyes were still sad but he shifted a little closer so he could nudge Adam's arm with his fist.

"Yeah, with that cowboy thing of his," Bobby added his smile to the group and then glanced meaningfully at John.

John's eyes went from Bobby to the two boys and he rallied inside himself. "Thing?" he snorted. "Fetish would be closer," he forced a grin.

They all tried to laugh and after a moment it became real. They needed the release.

To be continued …