“Goddamn it—“ Leon grabs the edge of the table to steady himself, wincing after bumping his hip against the corner. His head is spinning, the sharp taste of liquor heavy on his tongue. He somehow manages to get himself to the couch, practically falling back onto it. He hadn’t even given himself time to breathe after his mission before hitting the bottle, still in all of his gear. With an uncoordinated, drunken touch, he begins fumbling with the straps of his belt, his thigh holster.