Ambrose snorted and shook his head again at Caleb's response. His eyes had already grown heavy, but now it was impossible to hold them open. As soon as Caleb had drifted off into a slumber, Ambrose let his head flop back onto the couch pillow. The bottle of vodka slipped from his hand, clanking onto the floor and slowly poured its contents onto the rug. 

Ambrose was consumed by a deep sleep, dreaming of nothing except darkness. He awoke with a yelp from the alarm clock blaring. Ambrose found himself lay half off the couch in a heap of limbs and his eyes widened in bewilderment until he remembered how he got to where he was. He groaned, rubbing his pounding forehead. He only realized Caleb was awake as well when he heard him shout a curse of pain. "Morning." He said in a sulky voice, clearly not having a good morning. 

The lethary of sleep and dizziness from the hangover still clouded his mind, but he slowly forced himself to sit upright. "Jesus..." he murmured to himself as he tried to comprehend everything that has happened in the short amount of time he had been at BlackBrick. "Er- yeah I'm up." He croaked and forced himself to stand up. "What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

[@WindsOfFate]