After a curt exchange with the nurse, Curtis sank down into the chair at Grey's side, heaving a sigh and letting his eyes fall shut for a brief moment.

Head lulling in Grey's direction, he looked the kid over, noticing-- really noticing all the grime, the scars, the marks of a lifetime in the tail. Curtis was clean, was fed, but there were some scars that would never fade.

"They'll take you back in a few minutes," he explained, "They're going to want to set that wrist and do something about the hand. I'll..." He paused, lips pressed into a line, "I'll come back with you."

There was no fucking way he was letting them take the kid out of his sight. Not yet.

"You're gonna need to keep that knife away. They call the cops on us and we're fucked."