Harry groaned as he slipped painfully into wakefulness. He was lying face-down on his bed (at least, he hoped it was his bed) and everything hurt. He felt like every inch of his skin was covered in bruises. He had apparently fallen asleep with his left arm twisted under his torso and now it ached badly.
With another loud groan, Harry pushed himself over onto his back. He was still dressed in the clothes he had been wearing last night - jeans, a t-shirt, even his shoes and his heavy leather duster. He let himself simply lay there for a moment, not yet ready to really move.
Mister objected, though, and butted his head hard against the leg that Harry had let dangle over the side of the bed. He wanted breakfast and didn't much care how sore Harry was feeling.
"Ok, ok," Harry mumbled as he pushed himself up off the bed. He shrugged out of his duster and dropped it on the rumpled comforter. As he headed out to the kitchen alcove of his apartment, he rubbed his left hand, trying to get blood flowing properly to it again. In the process, he discovered that his awkward sleeping position had pressed his shield bracelet so hard into his wrist that it was now sporting a series of distinct shield-shaped impressions in the skin.
He poured cat food into a dish for Mister and then headed to the bathroom. As he made his way across the tiny apartment, he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it randomly behind him. Once he'd gotten the shower water running (not that it would warm up much), he peeled out of his jeans and boxers and left them in a pool on the floor.
The bruising, which covered most of his torso and much of the length his limbs as well, didn't look half as bad as he feared it would. Small favors. He peed into the toilet and then stepped into the not quite freezing cold water.
Last night had been rough, but at least he had some new pieces of information to work with. Shower, dress, and then to the basement to consult with Bob and get back to work.