Lucifugous

[loo-see-FOO-guhs]

-adjective

Avoiding light

OOO

His first thought is that he must have had one helluva night. His second is Ow. His third is that his headache is way too intense and centralized to be a hangover, and his fourth is Fuck.

Because Dean remembers the night before and, as he had begun to suspect, alcohol and women hadn't been involved- well, at least, not in a good way. In fact, nothing even remotely pleasurable had been involved. His evening had started off crappy because he drew the short straw and had to dig up the crazy ass corpse of the dude who'd decided to go all masterpiece theatre on the locals by making them reenact the final few moments of his life- where he'd killed his brother for cheating with his girlfriend, then the girlfriend, then himself,- and gotten even worst when a torrential downpour had caught Dean four feet down into the grave, and had been topped off by some college girl happening along and freaking out on him. She'd banged him over the head a few times with her flashlight, all the while screaming things like "sicko," "freak," and "necrophiliac" at him.

In fact, Dean's a little shocked that he's not waking up in a cell right now- and he can tell he isn't by the lack of restraints. And the pine cone digging into his ass.

He groans and hauls himself up, using the trees next to him as support. The first few minutes are shaky, literally. He barely keeps himself up at first, and has to clamp down on his lip to keep from spewing last night's Philly all over the woods. He doesn't really succeed on that last part.

When he's done, he flops onto his back, pawing blindly for his cell phone and he throws an arm up to cover his aching eyes.

He's wet from the rain, and the nausea isn't gone even though his stomach has practically turned itself inside out. His head feels like busted ping-pong ball, and the unpleasant taste in his mouth makes him want to cut off his tongue so he doesn't have to taste anything so vile ever again. He caked in dirt, and his jeans are scratchy, and he can't stop shivering, and, goddamnit-

"Sam," he croaks into the phone, "where the hell are you?"

OOO

Episode(s): None

Words: 374