"Drugged William and found the cure," Gabe said, scrubbing a hand over his face. That much he remembered. A lot of the details were still fizzing with the ridiculous batch of dreams he'd managed to have, but he'd sort all that out later, when there wasn't still work to be done to turn the cure into a viable potion.
Oh, hey, which was why Jon was here. Gabe had owled him. And he was here. Brilliant. "Brilliant," Gabe declared, eyes opening a little more easily and possibly alertly this time. "Come in, man. Let's do this. I'm not..." He shook his head a little. "Fuck sleep. It's so fucking close."
Shoving the door a little further open, Gabe left it and headed (mostly, eventually) over to his desk. Rummaging around in a drawer with accompanying clinks of glassware, he set a couple of little vials on the desk (eat me the little label attached to the neck of one said, and drink me the other rejoined) until he came up with a handful of four. The one marked simply ! he tossed back in immediately, shortly followed by !!. He dithered between !!? and !!! for a moment, before thumbing the cork out of the latter and downing the contents in one go.
(Note to self: figure out a way to make the invigorants taste less apocalyptically revolting. Seriously.)
"Workshop through there," Gabe croaked, a little muffled from the hand he was holding over his face in the hopes that it wouldn't explode like it sort of felt it might. "Gimme a moment."