"I hate when they bring in child abuse cases. It's so sad."
"I know! It's even worse that they're denying it. Who doesn't know that their kid has a six-inch gash on their ribcage?"
"And a concussion!"
"And a concussion! No parent could miss that!"
Dean awoke to the sound of twittering voices, though the words were lost to the fog in his mind.
"Looks like someone is waking up! Well, hello there, Dean!" One of the voices now sounded overly cheerful. Ugh.
After a brief struggle, the teen managed to open his eyes, only to immediately shut them again when he was assaulted by the bright overhead lights.
"It's alright, take your time," the other voice said.
Once again, Dean fought to open his eyes, squinting to try and see who was hovering above him.
Ayyy.
Upon gaining the ability to see, Dean realized there were two young, female nurses at his bedside.
"Well, good morning, ladies," Dean managed before clearing his throat. "Please tell me I didn't miss the main event."
The nurses laughed, which wasn't a good sign if the teen wanted to get any action.
"Aren't you a little heartbreaker!" the first one chuckled. "How are you feeling?"
"I would feel a whole lot better if you helped me out, nurse," Dean gave his best suggestive eyebrow wiggle and received another laugh in return.
"Well, I don't know what you have in mind, but I may just be able to sneak you an extra jello cup for dinner tonight if you behave yourself." She gave him a playful yet stern glare as she continued to monitor the equipment surrounding the teen.
It was then that Dean realized he was in a hospital. He was kind of embarrassed that it took him so long, to be honest. Dad would be so disappointed. Attempting to make up for his subpar observational skills, Dean stopped and assessed the situation.
What was the last thing he remembered? Talking to Steve.
How did he get here? Probably Steve and Tony.
Why was he here? Now that's the question he should be asking.
"Why am I in a hospital?"
The second nurse pulled her head up from a clipboard to answer him. "You don't remember? You were pretty badly hurt, sweetie."
Dean sneered at the nickname. "Don't call me sweetie unless you want me calling you honey tits."
The nurses both looked aghast before Honey Tits nodded.
"Where are my foster parents?" he demanded.
The other nurse, who he decided to call Bumpin' Booty, grabbed his hand suddenly and squeezed. "It's okay, they won't hurt you anymore. You're safe now."
"I'm–wait, what?" Dean fought to sit up amidst the blankets, wires, and tubes. "They didn't hurt me!"
"It's okay, hun, you don't have to defend them." Honey Tits smiled softly at him.
"Well, Honey Tits, I feel like I do because they didn't fucking hurt me!" Dean spat. Honey Tits tisked at his language.
"We'll go get your doctor." Bumpin' Booty guided the other nurse out the door, leaving Dean to an empty room.
Okay, then. And I still don't know why I'm here. Moving on...
His head still hurt, but not nearly as bad as before; maybe time and sleep helped?
His side wasn't on fire anymore; something to investigate.
Dean lifted his hospital gown and saw his side was now covered in gauze and professionally taped. He poked the dressing and hissed a little.
Definitely stitches; be careful with movements–do not tear.
IV line in his left hand; probably antibiotics and maybe painkillers. Could explain why his head didn't hurt as much. Definitely explains why his head is fuzzy.
His head needed to be clear if he was gonna get out of here. The teen reached to yank the line out of his arm, before feeling the sting of the stitches in his side. Yeah, no. Not happening. Painkillers were staying right where they were for the time being.
Alright, if he couldn't move, he could at least plan how he was going to leave. Looking around the room, Dean noticed just one clear entry and exit (the door, duh), multiple hiding points (attached bathroom, cupboard space, large equipment), and possible weapon options (tray of emergency medical supplies, maybe more in the cabinets lining the room).
Using this information, Dean started planning.
The teen was halfway through a brilliant escape, before he thought to ask the most obvious question: did he want to escape?
Steve and Tony were in here somewhere, waiting for him. The nurses said they thought he was abused, so what if the men were being detained? Leaving could make them look even more guilty!
His mind made up, the teen decided that, for once in his life, he was going to be a good patient and wait for the doctor. If he followed all the rules, they had to listen to him when he told them for the first time ever, that his foster parents were innocent.