Bill had no idea how he'd gotten home. The last thing he remembered clearly was watching someone leaving Bad Things and thinking that he liked being the only person there when he felt so bad about everything. Then he'd drank more and only had vague flashes between then and somehow being slumped at the kitchen table - Eddie showing up, Richie talking about something Bill couldn't quite follow, waking up in a tangle of limbs and feeling completely awful - and now he was staring at a mug of coffee and a half-eaten slice of dry toast.
This was progress. He'd had his head down on the table up until Abra had started singing over the phones, and then he'd seen all the kids she'd been thinking about, including Georgie. A few zippy things later, and she was coming over. Healing his hangover was great, but he was dreading the part where he needed to get up and move and do things.
The knock on the door didn't rouse him, but the voice in his head did. (mm, 'kay,) he replied, and got carefully to his feet before shuffling over to open the door.
"Hey," he said when he saw her, and opened the door wide so she could get in past him. "Thanks," he added, closing the door and heading back towards the kitchen table.