The Morning After

Sometime during the night, the whole world had apparently decided to turn evil and full of hate.

The sun, he was convinced, had sent its rays in through his window with the sole purpose of assassinating his retinas with poisonous, burning daggers that also somehow made him feel as though he was going to heave up the entire contents of his digestive system. Even his skin was against him, feeling as though it was two sizes too small.

If it wasn't for the positively overwhelming urge to pee, he would probably have noticed that his skin practically creaked with every movement.

In fact, if it hadn't been for the fact that his body was demanding relief from the massive, tangy tightness of his bladder, he would have probably tried to roll over and close his eyes against the world. As it was, he tried to remain still in the hopes that if he didn't move at all, his urinary tract wouldn't rupture like a punctured balloon.

It… didn't work.

The pressure was enough to drive him from the bed. He stood up-well, sort of. It was more like he rolled out of bed onto his knees and stumbled to his feet out of sheer stupid willpower, but he did manage to get himself vertical. His eyes were tightly shut during this whole process, lest any ray of diabolical sunlight get through to attack his poor, defenseless, and as he was very convinced, vulnerably exposed brain.

"Ueeghruuughahh…" he mumbled in belated effort. His innards sloshed around like a jug of milk.

He tried to keep his mind away from that line of thought… the mere idea of dairy products threatened to make him loose his lunch-or whatever he might have actually had in his stomach.

After a moment of inaction, his internal workings seemed to have stabilized somewhat. He gathered his courage, such as it was, and experimentally placed one foot forward.

A bit wobbly, he realized, but he managed. Now, all he had to do was navigate his way through his room, down the hallway, past the bridge, and into the bathroom… with his eyes closed.

No way was he opening his eyes. He really enjoyed having good vision, and he'd be pretty useless if he lost his ability to see. And at this point he was certain that if he opened his eyes to the glaring sun, he'd go stark blind.

"Rrrrghu…"

One…two…what came after two? Oh yeah… three…

He stumbled to the door by feel, moving as quietly and stealthily as a blind, hairless, three legged cat who'd just had a bad run in with a door.

The whirr of the door opening when he got to it just about did him in. He moaned pitifully. In the midst of his own self pity, he didn't even hear the steady patter of boots walking purposefully down the corridor.

"Finn!" cried a familiar voice, far too loud and cheery for its own good. "You're awake! That's great. I was just coming to get you!"

"Mrrrguph…"

"Wow, you look… terrible."

Deciding to take a big risk, Finn cracked one eye open. The figure before him was hazy and fuzzy, but it began to coalesce as he focused on it.

Purple. Tall. Dark hair… really pale.

"Sss…star…ling?"

"I hear you got home all right last night. I would have stuck around but I had some things to do. I hope you're not mad about that."

"Last… night?" What had happened last night?

"Dear me, how rude of me. You haven't even been up for a minute now, have you? I'll let you alone if you'd like. I promised Junko to help with some skimmer maintenance, in any case."

With that, she walked off, all cheery and wakeful.

It was obscene. His very mind seethed at the chirpiness of women in the morning. How could they even consider themselves human?

The pressure in his bladder sent tendrils of discomfort to his brain. With another inarticulate groan, he turned and began stumbling, slow and haphazardly, down the hallway.

Somehow, the few yards to the bathroom managed to turn into a league or two of uphill slope.

OOO

"What was that?"

Piper looked up from her maps at the sound of a curse and a thud. Starling raised one eyebrow in amusement, then shrugged. "Probably your boys getting up out of bed. I just saw Finn. He looked somewhat worse for wear."

Piper rolled her eyes. "Serves him right."

"Oh?"

With a sigh, Piper sat back against her chair. "I lost the coin toss. I had to go get them after you radioed to us that you had to go."

Starling laughed. "So they were pretty sloshed by the time you got there, eh?"

"Just a little bit."

Starling smirked.

"Aerrow sang off key the whole way home."

That startled a laugh out of the older woman. "You should have seen them when the night was still young," she snickered. "They are both so tough all the time…but they're both teetotalers. It didn't take much to do them in."

Piper shook her head disparagingly. "I still cant believe you talked Aerrow into that. I mean, I can understand Finn being all gung ho to go drinking, but Aerrow? And for Atmos' sake, why?"

"A couple reasons, actually."

Piper looked doubtful.

"I bet they're poisoned. They'll be dead by sundown." Stork chimed in from his usual spot.

"Stork!" Piper admonished. "They're hung over, not poisoned. Are they?" Piper looked back to Starling.

"They'll probably pull through."

At that moment, the door opened. Had she not known better, Piper would not have recognized the sorry creature that dragged himself through the door.

Skin so pale he looked like a vampire. Bloodshot, dry eyes that hurt to even look at stared out at her from within sunken, baggy eyes. His jaws were hollow with fatigue and his forehead was lined with a continual grimace. He hadn't even tried to make himself presentable…or if he had, it certainly had been more of a half hearted affair.

Red hair stuck up at odd angles on one side of his head, while on the other side it was matted and gummy as though he had spent all night with his mouth open, allowing drool to puddle and dry into it. His shirt had somehow been put on backwards and his trousers were wrinkled as though he had spent the night in them.

And he was barefoot, too.

The door slid shut with its usual sigh as he dragged himself with obvious effort into the room. Along with him came a strong odor that smelled of stale beer, body odor, and the tangy, sickly smell of stomach acid.

"Aerrow…" Piper began, pushing back her urge to gag. "I think…you…"

Starling waved a hand in front of her face, wrinkling up her nose. "Dear god, Aerrow. You stink."

The beleaguered young man turned his bleary eyes to the older woman. He blinked a couple of times, before speaking with the exaggerated care of one who was unsure of his faculties. "I don't know how…or why… but I am convinced that this is all your fault."

"Poison…" came Stork's voice from the controls.

"Stork!" Piper warned. Aerrow flinched at the sharp noise.

"Piper…" he whined.

"What?" She asked pointedly. "Something wrong?"

"Not so loud…"

"Its your own fault, you know. You cant blame Starling. She didn't hold you down and pour it all down your throat."

"But…" Aerrow was saved from further verbal punishment by the door opening and a somewhat better groomed, but still rough looking Finn stumbled through the door.

The smell intensified.

"Oh… ew. That is just wrong." Piper announced. "You both reek."

"Don't care. Outta…m'way." Finn muttered, continuing in a beeline to the other end of the bridge. "Gotta go."

"He's using whole sentences now," Starling mused. "That was quick."

Aerrow dragged himself to the table and dumped himself into a chair. He looked utterly miserable and pitiful, but for some reason Piper wasn't feeling all too charitable.

Radarr was no where to be found. Chances were, he'd found somewhere else to sleep last night because of his friend's antics.

If she had to pick one word to describe Aerrow, it would have been sour. He looked sour, smelled sour, hell he probably would have felt sour if she'd deign to touch him. She was right on the verge of telling him to go take a shower when Starling plunked a mug of hot black coffee in front of him. "Drink up, you'll feel better."

Piper raised her eyebrows yet again. "Isn't water a better idea?"

"Coffee will help with the headache."

Piper pressed her lips together, but said nothing.

OOO

Release was heavenly. The feeling of triumph when he finally made it to the bathroom nearly was his undoing. In his entire life, he'd never felt so light, so… relieved, as when he made it to the bathroom.

Emptiness was underrated.

As he was pulling his pants back up into place, he noticed a pain that had been dulled by his prior urgency. His hand brushed a sticky substance on his hip and when it did, a wave of fire, like a bad burn, pinpointed at that spot on his thigh.

"What the…"

He pulled his shirt up out of the way and looked down in confusion.

"…the hell?"

OOO

Hey there y'all. I know this isn't all that long, but for the life of me, I couldn't think of a good way to continue this at all. I hope I did the first two installments justice, but I am afraid this one just fell flat. Regardless, I promised and update on this one weeks ago, so here you are.

Let me know how you think. And also, should I continue this more? It could feasibly end here, as it pretty much clears up any questions the first couple of chapters raised, so… I dunno.

I need direction.

Review, and let me know what you think I should do with this mess!