If he'd managed to stay asleep, he'd have been late. Fortunately for him, the combination of drugs and nightmares had made that an impossibility. The only downside was that that made two straight weeks of little to no sleep, and he was becoming too fucking reliant on the highs to keep him functional. He was going to have to do something about that, maybe take some sleeping draughts.
He returned the nod and slumped into his chair. The withdrawal was hitting sooner than he'd expected. He opened a drawer and fished out a potion - that would kill the headache, get him through to lunch when he could take another hit.
"What are we looking at today?" he asked after knocking back the vial. There was so much crap on their desks that he never knew where to start. After the sewers, the cult investigation had stepped up, but that didn't mean they could overlook everything else, much as he'd like to.