They half carried, half dragged Eddie back to their car, parked ten minutes away. The only one the same height as Eddie was Brendan, and he took most of the weight. Christian pulled him along on the other side, but it was awkward and difficult. It would have to do though, because Laurel was not going to help at all, she just glared at the road the entire drive home, ignored them on the trip up the stairs to their second floor apartment, and watched as Christian and Brendan heaved Eddie’s corpse onto the couch. He lay there, arms and legs splayed, but both Brendan and Christian were panting with the effort. As with most tall men, he was really heavy, as if his bones were made of lead. Brendan sat on the floor and Christian took the bean bag, so they could get their breath back.

“Now what?” Laurel said, voice filled with acid.

Christian wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’ll watch him.”

“Damn right you will.” Laurel answered, then Christian heard her footsteps and the slamming of her bedroom door. He flinched but didn’t say anything. Brendan did follow her movement though, and stared at the door before looking back at Christian, in wonder.

“I can’t believe you stood up to my sister.” He said.

Christian shook her head. “I didn’t mean to get her angry.”

“So why did you? Do you know this guy?”

“I met him five minutes before you did.”

“Then why care?”

Christian couldn’t meet his eyes either, and felt like a coward for it. “It was your idea, not to leave him.”

Brendan was silent then, and Christian was glad. He really had no more words to add to the stupid situation. He hated that Laurel was mad, and he dreaded the time when she would come demanding explanation. This was the first time they had ever really been at odds. All over an overly friendly, loud, drug addict. He expelled a loud breath.

“Look, I’ve got to go. Got a match in the morning.”

Christian looked at him, and pulled a smile on his face. “Ok. Thanks Bren. Really.”

Brendan only looked at him for a few breaths before shaking his head like Christian was a mystery. “Sure. Anytime.” He indicated Laurel’s door. “You gonna be ok here?”

Christian gulped but nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’ll figure it out.”

“Rather you than me.” Brendan said with feeling. “But call me, if you need anything.”

“Sure, Brother Bren.” Christian joked. When Brendan looked quizzical, he waved him away. “I’ll explain another time.”

Add that to the list of things he had to explain. Like why a long, unconscious man wearing nearly nothing was draped across his couch, drooling on the cushions.

He sighed aloud and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket.

He felt his disappointment that he wouldn’t see Jazz after all. Even though he had been considering leaving the parade early anyway, when they actually did decide to leave it was abrupt and hadn’t been much of a choice. But leaving Eddie there, passed out at the picnic grounds just hadn’t been an option. And after Eddie had asked not to be taken to a first aid, it had just seemed like the only choice was to bring him back with them. But he couldn’t really explain all of that to Jazz. For one thing, it sounded completely ridiculous.

So he just said;

Hey, I’m really sorry but I had an emergency and I couldn’t stay at the parade.

He stared at the screen for a while, but when no message came back, he dropped the phone on the coffee table, feeling his disappointment keenly. Eddie began to snore, oblivious to the havoc he had wrought in Christian’s life in just the last thirty minutes. His best friend was livid, he had to cancel a date… Christian thought that maybe he should have just stayed in the library.

Eventually it became clear that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere and wasn’t having a seizure. Christian decided that he just needed to sleep it off, and, after throwing a blanket over his comatose form, Christian went to make himself coffee, still feeling chilled inside and now also morose. When he heard Laurel’s door open with a soft click, he pulled a second mug off the drying rack without looking around and made another cup. He held it out to her silently, a paltry peace offering.

She took it without looking at him, instead glaring malevolently over its rim at the couch and its occupant. She had already changed into her rattiest (and thus comfiest) sweats. In fact they were an older pair of Christian’s. They moved to the kitchen table, settling in the two chairs. Brendan complained that only two chairs was inconsiderate. Laurel had retorted that there were only two occupants in the flat so it was perfect.

The silence settled and while Christian was waiting in tense anticipation, Laurel pulled one of her legs up and rested her chin on her knee, watching him.

“Ok, I’m calm now.”

Christian released a careful breath. Laurel was his very best friend, and, until recently, his only friend. He knew her temper, and didn’t enjoy the thought of her being angry with him.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

Laurel gave him a long look, clearly expecting more, but he stayed stubbornly quiet.

“Ok, fine. I’ll drag it out of you. Why are we playing halfway house to a junkie?”

Christian’s lashes flickered as he stared at the table between them, eyes fixating on an odd orange stain that looked a bit like a lobster.

“Chris,” she pressed, her voice softening. “Come on. What’s going on here?”

“He needed help.”

“Which he could have gotten at the first aid tent. Or an ER.”

Christian looked at her, trying for casual. “Can’t we just help someone? Just because it’s the right thing to do?”

“Don’t bullshit me. You’re not just helping someone. There is something about this guy specifically, isn’t there?” she looked at Eddie again, face scrutinising. “Do you think he is cute or something?”

Christian’s eyes snapped wide in shock, then he felt his face pull together in a frown. “No. You think I find that attractive? Getting high and passing out in front of strangers? You think I would bring someone like that home just because I thought he was cute?”

Laurel looked exasperated. “Well, you have offered me no other explanation. What the fuck is this guy, who is a complete freak by the way, doing on our couch at this moment?”

“I don’t think he’s cute.” Christian told her angrily. “That’s not why he’s here.”

“Then why is he here?”

“Because he needed help.”

“Everyone needs help. Why this guy?”

“Did you expect me to just leave him there? In the cold? There was no one else who could have helped him.”

“Bullshit.”

“Laurel!”

She shrugged, her face cool and distant. “You have given me no real reason. What are you hiding?”

They glared at each other. Christian’s coffee sat abandoned in front of him while his hands retreated back into his pockets. They were at a stalemate, which hadn’t happened often in their friendship, but was rare enough for him to get anxious about it. She was a lot like her brother about things like this, secrets. Once she sniffed that there was one around, she yanked at the thread until it unravelled. She hated not knowing things, and there were only a few things holy enough not to be touched by either of them’. Their families was one, but he knew she wasn’t going to let this go.

But he really needed her to.

“Please Laurel.” He pleaded, his voice quiet.

Laurels face immediately softened. “Chris, what is going on here?”

Christian could only shake his head. “I just...can’t tell you Laurel. Not this.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it really matter?” he asked desperately. It amounted to the same thing.

“Yes, it does.”

Christian paused and pulled his hands from his pockets, and leaned forward on the table. He didn’t ask why it mattered, because he knew.

“Both then. It’s not you Laurel…” he tried desperately to find a reason she could understand or accept, even though he knew she wouldn’t. The hurt in her eyes told him that. “We all have secrets.”

“Not us. Not you and me.” She replied, looking and sounding hurt.

“Then why don’t you talk about your parents?”

This time Laurel really did look like she had been slapped, face going white and lips becoming a thin line. He rushed to fill the gap, before the void between them grew too wide. “I’m not asking you to tell me. It’s yours, not mine. It doesn’t mean I love you less, or that I think you love me less.”

“I will tell you if you want to know.” She said, her voice still holding a shadow of anger.

“But I don’t want you to tell me, unless you want to.” He spoke the words clearly, like he really needed her to understand them. “You see?”

Laurel was gazing at him with a mixture of hurt, anger and yearning. He knew she got it, that she understood. But it still hurt her, knowing that they kept secrets from each other. Should best friends keep secrets? He didn’t know.

“Please don’t make me choose between telling you and losing you.” he whispered.

“Oh god, Chris.” She said suddenly. She got up from her seat so fast her coffee up teetered and almost fell over. But she was on him in less time than it took for the cup to right itself, and she pulled him into a hug that was fast and clumsy. “I would never make you choose. I’m sorry. I’m being a bitch.”

Christian’s head was angled slightly awkwardly as she held him by the shoulders, as he was still seated, but he let her, too relieved to care much. “It’s ok.”

She let go of him then. Laurel wasn’t a hugger, so even this brief embrace must have been a sign of a big emotional moment for her. Christian smiled weakly.

“I was just so surprised, Chris. This was the last thing I ever thought I would see you do.” She explained, sitting down across from him again, voice apologetic.

“What, help him?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “All of it guess. The fact that you let him join us at all was already weird, then the hero routine…”

“I guess it is out of character for me.” He admitted. They were both now looking at Eddie, one leg still over the back of the couch, the other trailing the floor. He snorted and turned his face away.

“You think?”

Christian grinned ruefully at her. “I’m sorry Laurel. I’ll deal with it. With him.”

Laurel was looking intense again then visibly pulled herself back from him. “Ok. I’m not going to ask what this is about. But know that it’s killing me.”

“Alright. Sorry.”

“Stop saying that.”

“Ok.”

They stared at their odd guest some more.

“I wonder what he took.”

“He said something that sounded like ‘ashes’. Before”

Laurel perked up at this. “He did? Ok, I can work with that.” She whipped out her phone then, and began typing rapidly. Christian assumed she was googling or something that effect. She made an annoyed sound though, frowning at her screen.

“Nothing comes up. Maybe you heard wrong.”

“Maybe.”

She slurped her coffee some more.

‘He is still your problem, though.” She told him remorselessly.

“Noted.”

And with that she got up and left him alone. Christian stared at Eddie for a long time without seeing him, thinking of the last time he had seen a drug induced coma. This wasn’t that bad, so maybe Eddie was just mostly drunk.

Eddie didn’t wake up at all, but was snoring faintly so at least he wasn’t dead. By 11 pm Christian got tired of waiting for him to wake up and went to his own bed, sure that he would wake up if Eddie did. But to his shock, when he woke up the next morning at 9, Eddie was gone. The blanket he had slept under was folded neatly on the couch but other than that there was no trace he had even been there. Christian stood in the living room, at a loss as to what to do. Laurel joined him, yawning hugely.

“He’s gone?”

Christian nodded.

“Heh. Good riddance.” She said. “It’s Sunday, I need to veg out, not babysit a weird, gay hobo.”

“I’m pretty sure he wasn’t a hobo.” Christian replied, but she just shrugged.

They were both working on assignments when Brendan came by at about eleven. Laurel groaned.

“It’s Sunday, for cripes sake. Leave us in peace.” She growled at him. He ignored her and sat on the windowsill where Christian liked to read.

“Practice got cancelled ‘cos of frost on the pitch. What happened to our friend from yesterday?” he asked Christian.

“No idea. When I woke up, he was gone.”

Brendan didn’t seem to think this was particularly strange. “I suppose that’s a good thing. At least now he is out of your hair.”

“You should follow his lead. It’s Sunday, Bren. We are not going out. We are not even getting changed out of our PJ’s” Laurel told him.

Brendan looked like he was about to say something then closed his mouth. Then he tried again. “Ok, mind if I hang out here then?”

Laurel didn’t reply, just kept typing away at her keyboard, no indication she had even heard him. Christian sighed at her intransigence and answered instead.

“Sure. You can always hang out here, Bren. Want some coffee?”

Bren looked hesitantly at his sister but still nodded ‘yes’ to the question. “I’ll make a new pot.” He offered, seeing their one was almost empty.

“Thanks.”

Christian left him to potter about the kitchen and while his back was turned he caught Laurel’s eye.

‘Meow.’ he mimed at her, to which she rolled her eyes.