It was the first bit of sleep he had had with out screams, but something brought him to. Gambit raises his eyelids from small slits to half open and starts to focus. He could tell he was still sitting at the bar, there was a half smoked still burning cigarette in his hand, and as he started to sharpen things up visually, he found himself starring at a 1.5 liter bottle of Dublin's Finest Whiskey on the bar with only 2 fingers left in it.
Around him, there was a raging techno music party where there was once, a just above manageable chaos. He could not tell how long he had drifted off. The half lit cigarette still smoking in between his fingers, clued him to the fact that it could not have been that long.
He realized he could not remember how long he had been waiting for Sunny, but a near full bottle of whiskey has a tendency to mess with a mans head a bit. The trick to the "Standing/Sitting Bar Nap" is to find a pose were it looks you are just sitting there, hiding behind black lens pilots glasses, hands clasped to the bar for balance and nod off. Gambit might have continued Barnapping had it not been for his comm unit vibrating in his jacket.
He releases his death grip on the bar, and fumbles the unit out of his jacket, and sees that it is the inter station mobile system, and it is the captain of The Huntsman calling. He puts the unit up to his ear, mustering the concentration to answer.
"Ya....." notably slurring.
" ..Frank its Fat Amy , where the hell are you, I can barely hear ya,...Frank?."
"Black.....cherry....waiting on Sunny, in no shape to do anyone any good"
He could hear her start talking very faintly, and as she was giving him the rundown on the last trip to New Berlin, he started to drift off in his head, remembering images of bloody people in the back of his Voyager and explosions in the LZ. He cuts her off right when she mentions the buy price of the munitions they had just brought back from the DHC facility on the Ring.
"..Frack no aint happenin......if we do not stop them now.....they are going to reach around and take Cali Minor an....an.....Leeds is so screwed....Amy, they can´t handle it..."
"Gotcha Frank, barely hear ya, Ill handle it."
He stands there for a few seconds till he realizes that Amy has hung up. He throws his comm unit on the bar and it hits the almost empty bottle of spirits, this getting the bartenders attention. The barkeep comes over to him grabbing another bottle on his way and exchanges the empty for a full.
"you good Frank?"
He nods a yes, and the bartender pulls out a cold beer and places it in front of him and walks away. Between the loud rhythmic music and the low strobe lights, his head floats off into the images of nightmares.