They offer her a small, weak little smile over their shoulder. "Thanks, Kitty. I appreciate that." Not that they really intend to take her up on it, not about the bad stuff, not about the details. She's just a kid.

Did the other version of them talk to teenagers about all his shit? Did the other version of them even have all this shit? They really don't know. It's not like they haven't unloaded their problems on children before. They really didn't do right by Eleven, they know that now. But they like to think maybe they've learned how to be more careful about that kind of thing.

Besides, in this case, they really don't want to talk about it. "I'm fine, though, Kitty. I promise. I'm a lot better than I was."