Patch reached out and grabbed at his alarm clock as the noise machine buzzed loudly in the dimly lit room. He was sure the thing was trying to bore its way into his head as he pitched it over at the far wall and rolled over beneath the sheets, pulling his pillow back up over his head until the drumming in his ears quietened to a dull roar. Hangovers were a bitch, nut at least they seemed to be getting easier with time, his body slowly acclimatising to the toxins he regularly poured into it.

He knew there was something important he should be doing, but right now he just wanted to sleep. If it was really important then someone would've been up to wake him already, and since he couldn't hear sirens or gunfire then it must still be safe to sleep for another few minutes.