A cheer. A fucking cheer. Billy laughs under his breath, offers and acknowledging nod across the room and... Paused. Looking at the source of the noise meant seeing a familiar head of hair as well, and damn, what do you do with that? Honestly, if he had to point out someone just barely more likely to be here than him, it would have been Harrington. No way the guy with the money and awareness of monsters wouldn't have bailed.

Yet there he was, across the gym. The last time they had seen each other... A few days short of ten years ago. No, he didn't want to think about it. The nightmares were bad enough even now without confronting someone else who knew what went bump in the night. What Billy had done.

He kept telling himself it wasn't his fault, that he hadn't made the decisions, that he wasn't in charge of his own body. Every year he made a little memorial in his apartment, remembered the names and the faces, the lives lost at his hands, even if it wasn't his will.

Don't stare, he tells himself. Just gives Harrington the smallest of nods and moves over for the refreshment table. Why hadn't he pregamed this?