He leans on her, just the way he would have leaned on his friends if he'd had the chance.

"Losers," he says tightly, moving his mouth and his throat as little as possible to keep his voice from breaking. A deep, rough, rumbling cough, the sort that most people use to clear out their lungs during a chest cold, and he shakes himself, pulling it together. He raises the bottle.

"To the Losers' Club, from its only present member. You guys were better at this shit, I don't know why the fuck I'm the one stuck here."

And down the hatch.