Chapter 15
Dean was still out of it when the elevator dinged and the group stepped out, Steve still pulling Dean along.
They were met by a very anxious looking Sam and Thor and when they caught sight of the teenager, they only became more worried. “What’s wrong with him?” a nervous Sam asked.
Dean seemed to focus on his surroundings for the first time if his shout of “Sammy!” was anything to go by.
“Dean?” Sam questioned.
“Maybe you should go to your room, just until we sort him out,” Steve suggested.
Sam shook his head adamantly, “No way, he’s my brother.”
Steve sighed but nodded slightly. He then led the high teenager to the couch and sat him down, eyes stinging from the smell of the tequila. He turned to Bruce, “You should run his blood, so we know what he’s taken.” Bruce nodded and went to retrieve the necessary equipment.
“Taken?” asked a bewildered Sam.
Tony’s lips tightened when he answered, “He’s high.”
Sam’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything, just went and sat next to his older brother, his protector, and he decided then that he would protect Dean from then on. No matter what.
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Bruce came back with the results, Dean had fallen asleep on the couch, sat up and Sam still hadn’t left his side.
Everyone turned to the scientist expectantly.
“His blood alcohol level is extremely high, and it looks like his drug of choice was ecstasy that was laced with a little cocaine. So, he’s going to have a fun morning.” He started solemnly but ended sarcastically.
Tony sighed heavily and lifted a hand to cover his face. Steve noticed his husband’s stress and pulled him aside.
“I’m really worried about him,” Tony started.
“I think we all are,” Steve agreed.
“Drugs? I mean, drugs?” Tony asked incredulously.
“I know,” Steve said softly.
“What if he gets addicted or something?” Tony asked.
“Then we help him,” Steve said with finality.
Tony nodded then grabbed Steve’s hand and led him back to the living area.
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Dean started waking up and the first thing he felt was a pounding in his head, the second thing he felt was a lurch in his stomach. With the lurch, he bolted upright, briefly noting an asleep Sam next to him, and then ran to the nearest bathroom. As soon as he found the room, the contents of his stomach come up and he threw up into the toilet.
He was kneeling for about 10 minutes, throwing up on and off. He could feel sweat falling down his face and back, and he could also feel the body paint from last night still stuck to his body. That’s when everything that happened last night came back to him.
Freaking out. Running away. The club. The tequila. The girl. The drugs.
Oh god. The drugs. ‘What did he even take?’ he asked himself. Dean sat back on his heels and then he felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and turned; hands ready to fight.
He registered that it was Clint. He lowered his hands and felt his stomach turn again. He turned to the toilet and threw up once more, this time he had a comforting hand rubbing circles on his back.
Once Dean was finished, he dropped down onto the floor and leant against the cold, tiled wall, the coldness cooling his temperature.
Clint and Dean just sat there for about five minutes when Clint broke the silence.
“So, ecstasy?” he asked.
“Is that what it was?” Dean asked, trying to be his usual self, but it lacked his usually confidence.
Clint nodded, “A judging by the body paint, a girl.”
“Very astute observation,” Dean responded, again lacking his usual self.
“Were you at least safe?” Clint asked, “I mean other than taking random drugs and getting super drunk, obviously,” he finished sarcastically.
Dean smiled slightly, ‘at least he can make jokes’ he thought to himself. “Honestly?” Clint nodded, “I don’t know,” Clint sighed.
“Hey, it’s not like I was in the right frame of mind,” Dean defended.
“And who’s fault is that?” Clint retorted.
Dean remained silent.
They sat together for another five minutes in silence.
“So,” Dean broke the silence, “How come you’re in here and not Tony or Steve?”
“I thought you might like to talk to someone who isn’t technically your legal guardian or anything first,” Clint shrugged.
Dean smiled slightly, “I still have to talk to them, don’t I?”
“Obviously,” Clint smirked.
“Well, I should probably have a shower first, you know, body paint,” Dean gestured to his face and neck.
Clint gave a small smile and got up to leave, “I’ll let them now that you’ll be in the living room soon.”
Dean nodded his thanks and locked the door as Clint left.
He turned on the shower and let it get hot. He stepped under the steaming water and let it wash over his sweaty skin. The water relaxed his muscles and he could feel the body paint being washed off.
As he stepped out of the shower after thirty minutes, he only had one thought on his mind.
‘What are Steve and Tony going to say.’