They didn't remember much of the rest of the night. Rosie was vaguely aware of looking at the clock around 4:25am, but that was it. Most of Dustin's friends peeled off a lot earlier, with Nancy bringing El up to bed just after midnight. The others disappeared one by one, and Rosie woke up next to Eddie in the master bedroom at 11 the next day.

"Hoooo my god." Her mouth was like sandpaper, her head pounding, eyes tacky and dry. She rolled off the edge and half-crawled to the en-suite. Water. She needed water. Guzzled it straight from the tap til she thought she would drown, and ransacked the medicine cabinet for painkillers. It probably wasn't a good idea to mix them with the other substances in her system, but she'd take the risk.

Wait. She put the pills down and braced herself over the sink. Retched a few times, then spilled some bile. It washed away easily, and she swallowed her medicine. Returning to bed, she quickly checked that Eddie was ok, then went back to sleep.

He woke up a few hours later in much the same state. Tried to be quiet about it, but Rosie was already coming back around. She helped him through it as best she could, tying his hair back as he hung over the toilet and forcing water down his throat. Most of the early afternoon passed with the two of them trying to survive together.

They left Warren's after 4pm. Rosie driving like an old lady, not quite suire she was able. Wayne opened the door to greet them as they both fell out of the car, looking amused.

"Good night, huh?"

Eddie hit the doorframe on the way in and collapsed on the sofa. Rosie tried to act a little more graceful. Still went to the fridge and chugged a cola, though.

"Toss."

One flew over the counter to Eddie. He spilled half of it down his front as he drank, then belched like an angry bear.

"Charming."

"Well, you two seem to have enjoyed yourselves." Wayne pointed at the oven. "Rosie, they're nothing on yours, but I cooked up some muffins. There's sausage and bacon, too."

"Soakage." Eddie croaked.

"I'm heading out. But first." Wayne pulled something from behind his chair and handed it to Eddie. "Happy birthday."

Hands still trembling, Eddie ripped the clumsy wrapping, then stopped, staring at the object in his lap. "This is great. Thanks, Uncle Wayne."

They embraced, and Wayne went out. Rosie organized two plates for them, then went to join Eddie on the sofa. He was still staring into the photo frame.

"That your mom?" She guessed.

"And grandma, yeah."

"They look nice."

"They were." Eddie touched his mother's face. "You know. You never ask me about her."

"I figured you'd tell me, when you were ready."

"Right."

"Did you want me to ask you?"

"No, actually. But I wanted to tell you about them."

Rosie scooted over to see the photograph better. "I'm listening."

"Well…Dad wasn't up to much. Deadbeat. Just a petty criminal that brought me in on it as soon as I was old enough. " Eddie told her. "Not great at all, but he was gone most days. Not that any of us minded, you know? Mom and Grandma took care of me all the time, anyway. Only difference it made was Mom had to take up two jobs. She worked all the time to make sure I was happy. Especially when he just stopped coming home. Wanted me to be happy… And I was. Until she got sick."

Rosie rested her arms around him, but didn't interrupt.

"It was just a lump at first. They cut it out, and she seemed fine. But then she started having these stomach aches, puking all the time. Sometimes with blood. Grandma tried to make sure I didn't see it, but of course I did. She got worse, and worse, til all we could do was make her comfortable. It was hard for me to understand the way she just faded away, even harder when she was really gone." Eddie's grip on the frame tightened. "I turned into a little shit when she died."

"Eddie…"

"I mean it. I was the worst. I started acting out in class, at home, on the streets. Running around, fighting, breaking shit, stealing. Grandma did everything she could to try and keep me safe. To steer me straight, but I was just an animal." He sniffed. "Then she died, too. Just like that -" He snapped. "She had a stroke and just dropped."

Rosie kissed his shoulder. "I'm sure you weren't that bad."

"I was, and I got worse. Wayne took me in, but how he stood me I have no idea. Almost every week, there were cops outside, cops bringing me home. I'd broken someone's windows, slashed their car, stolen their kid's bike. Whatever, the older I got, the more crap I got into. Drink, drugs, women. Everything. By the time I hit 15 I was stoned or drunk every day. Lost my v-card to some 25 year-old lady in the back of a truck."

Rosie winced. "He loves you. They all loved you. And I'm sure they all understood that you were just a kid going through some nasty shit."

"Not an excuse."

"No. But it's a reason."

"Bet your parents never had to chase after you. Gifted, and all that."

"Pfffft! Are you kidding?" Rosie spluttered. "I was good in school, yeah, but I ran around too. Boys, mostly, some of the other stuff, too. Pretty sure my parents thought I wouldn't be able to make it to college before I was knocked-up or dead."

Eddie laughed, bumped heads with her. "Yet here you are. Against all odds."

"Both of us." He let her take the photo. "What would they say…um…about..?"

"You? Oh wow, they would've loved you." He laughed. "Smart, beautiful and a good cook? Are you kidding?"

"I wish I could meet them."

"Same here." Eddie agreed solemnly. "What about your folks? What about…me?"

Rosie thought. "My brother will love you. Mom… will probably spoil you rotten. It's Dad you need to impress."

"Always the fathers."

"He's nice, really. Just a tough one to crack." She nudged him. "He plays the guitar, though. Loves music."

"Oh, well then I'm in."

She considered him a moment. "They're in Portland, now."

"Yeah, you mentioned."

"How about, come say…October. Or December. Whenever you feel brave enough, we go visit?"

Eddie frowned. "You're serious?"

"Serious."

"Sure."