You walk in to go check in on Bigby but also to talk about a case with him. You gently knock and say his name. No response. You start to open the door to peak your head in and then see him at his desk. His head is down, the ashe tray overflowing with burnt cigarette buds with the faint smell of a cigarette that was recently put out. You wonder how long he's been like this, sleeping- and whether it was voluntary or he succumbed to exhaustion.

You stand there a moment, deciding whether or not to disturb him.