Hank had woken up early the next morning, the brightness hurting his eyes. He rolled over to check the clock, groaning as there were still thirty minutes or so before his alarm was due to go off, but his head was pounding, unable to let him rest longer. He climbed out of bed and stumbled across his apartment heading for the bathroom in an attempt to take a few pills to try and ease the jackhammer currently going off in his brain. A few flashbacks from the night before told him he was dealing with a hangover, so he decided to throw on a few clothes and head over to Sam’s; a decent fried breakfast was definitely being called for this morning.
The previous day, detectives Brookes and Moorland had somehow managed to close the case on the hotel stabbing. The FBI's ongoing investigation int
