Trish wasn't quite sure what to make of Ashley and Shannon. They were nice enough to her but there was just something about them that made them seem strange to her. Maybe it was the hardness in their eyes or maybe it was the fact they seemed more exasperated by Jeff's state than downright worried. "Shouldn't we do something about him?" she finally asked. "He seems really bad right now."

Shannon just shrugged. "He's a junkie. He's almost always fucked up. If he ain't fucked up then he's looking to get fucked up. I don't like that he's on that shit but I can't really do anything about it. He just avoids everyone that tries to make him stop using."

Ashley took a drink of her beer. "So what's your story princess?"

Trish blinked. "What?"

"Let me take a guess before you answer. You're alcoholic step-father used your face as a punching bag for far too long and you decided running away was the only option."

Trish was shocked. "How did you--"

"Same thing happened to me four years ago," Ashley informed her. "I was fifteen at the time. My step dad came home every night and beat the shit out of me and my sister. Mom wouldn't do anything to stop it so I just took Nicole and ran." She snorted. "A lot of good it did though. I alternate between being a stripper and a hooker and Nicole was killed two years ago."

"She got caught at the wrong place at the wrong time," Shannon said before Trish could ask. "Drive by shootings happen a lot around here."

"Oh," Trish said. Drive by shootings? She had to worry about getting shot? Maybe she should have ran away to somewhere else. "Why do you alternate between being stripper and a hooker?"

Ashley grinned humorlessly. "Strip club owners are assholes. Hooking sucks but at least you're your own boss."

"Although that advantage doesn't make up for the other shit you've got to deal with," Shannon said. "I got to talk to Shawn about getting more hours down at the restaurant. I would rather spend eight hours a day, seven days a week washing dirty ass dishes than selling my ass for fifty bucks a fuck."

"Well call him in the morning," Ashley said. "He's usually a cool guy. I'm sure he'll help you out." She looked back at Jeff, who was still just laying on the mattress. "Should we call Matt and tell him Jeff's alright at least?"

"You can if you want to," Shannon told her. "The last time I did, Matt got mad at me for not stopping Jeff from using. I'm not listening to that lecture again." He stood up and looked at Trish. "You can crash on the couch if you want. It's not that comfortable but our beds aren't either so we're suffering right along with you."

"Thanks," Trish said. At least she didn't have to sleep out on the street tonight. Hopefully they would think about letting her stay longer than just tonight. Or maybe they would at least give her the address of somebody who would let her stay permanently. She took her stuff over to the couch and laid down on it. It was pretty uncomfortable but it wasn't the worst thing she had ever slept on. One time Stephen had made her sleep down in the basement for two days just for his own amusement. That had sucked much worse than this.

She managed to get a few hours of sleep before being woken up by a loud commotion. She opened her eyes and saw Shannon and Ashley trying to help a woman guide an injured man into the apartment.

"Jesus Mickie, what the hell happened to him?" Ashley asked.

Mickie shook her head. "I don't know. I found him all beat up like this on the street corner a couple blocks of way. You guys were closer than my place."

Shannon took the injured man's head in his hands. "Randy what happened? Come on, focus on me man."

"Nearly mugged," Randy mumbled. He seemed really out of it. "I wouldn't give up the money so they tried to beat it out of me. Got away though. I got away."

Mickie sighed. "Jesus baby, you're lucky they didn't pull a knife or a gun out on you."

Suddenly Jeff made a weird noise. He jumped off the mattress and tore off out of the living room he scared the crap out of everyone. A moment later they could all hear him puking.

"I'll take care of him," Trish said before anyone could say anything. She got off the couch and went off the direction he had gone in. She found him in the bathroom, puking his guts out in the toilet. She felt so bad for him. There was no explaining why she felt the urge to take care of him. She didn't even really know him. But despite that, she found herself holding on to his hair and rubbing his back like her mom used to do when she was sick as a kid.

He gagged and heaved a couple more times before moving away and resting his head against the wall. He was as pale as he could possibly get. "Fuck," he muttered. "I hate it when that happens."

She flushed the toilet for him and grabbed a washcloth. She got it wet and began wiping his face off with it. "Relax," she said as he flinched. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He stopped flinching but he didn't exactly relax. "Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied truthfully. "I just feel like it."

Ashley suddenly poked her head through the doorway uninvited. "Matt and Amy are here," she announced. She looked worried. "Matt ran into Hunter and Hunter started taunting Matt about what he did to you."

Jeff let out a low groan. "What did Matt do?"

"Well according to Amy, he broke Hunter's nose in about a million pieces. But now they're here and they want to talk to you."

Trish looked at Jeff, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. "This is bad?"

Jeff nodded. "It's bad. Ash, just tell him I snuck out a window or something. I don't want to talk to him."

"JEFFERY NERO HARDY, DON'T MAKE HER LIE FOR YOU! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" Matt yelled.

"Matt calm down," Amy pleaded. "We've been over this. Yelling is not going to solve anything."

Jeff let out another groan. "Oh Jesus. Here we go again."