Chapter Text
Raj doesn't know when this started that tickle in the back of his throat, one he could brush aside and ignore. Until now, he and Damian had just spoke... and he had almost confessed those feelings he'd been trying to stuff deep within himself, those feelings for the man who saved him from his own isolation and grief. But he couldn't do it, after all Damian had gone through Raj didn't want to saddle the man with his foolish feelings. It would be selfish of him to dump all of his emotions onto someone in grief even if Damian didn't show it. Raj's throat felt tight after he had finished talking and all he could do was walk away, knowing Damian wouldn't call out to him... that he wouldn't want Raj by his side.
He managed to get back to the room shared among the crew before he felt like he would crumble and he barred himself into the bathroom needing to take a moment to breathe and splash water in his face. As he did so he felt the tightness in his throat increase to an almost painful level and he doubled over hacking into the sink. Each cough was raw and painful leading to tears to form in Raj's eyes, it was so excruciating he thought he would pass out... then something came up his throat and into the sink and the pain was over. Raj stood there breathing heavily feeling woozy and like his throat had been clawed at by a beast. Eventually the room stopped spinning and Raj took in a deep breath looking at himself in the mirror and saw blood.
Around his mouth, matted into his grey fur was a smattering of crimson red. Raj's eyes were wide in horror but he took another breath to calm himself knowing he needed a clear head right now. He cast his gaze into the blood speckled sink finding an odd object coated in blood, with a shaking hand he scooped it up into his palm taking a closer look.... it was a flower petal. Raj almost wanted to laugh, a flower petal had caused him so much agony? That was ridiculous but it was the only thing in the sink so it must've been the object that had been causing the cough, Raj wondered when he had come across such a bloom and how long it had been trapped in his throat. As he gently wiped some of the blood away he saw the familiar shape and colour of a Marigold Blossom.
He hadn't see one since his home island... it would've been impossible for the petal to have been with him all these years. How on earth did it get in his throat? Raj softly closed his fist around the petal, thinking through any logical reasoning he could come up with but nothing came to mind. So he put it aside for now, something else to stuff down and ignore for now. So he cleared his mind and started cleaning up the blood, the Marigold petal feeling heavy in his pocket. This was nothing to worry himself over so he wouldn't, after he had washed the last of the blood away Raj took a moment to look at himself again seeing the blood still staining his fur. All Raj could do was sigh and carefully wash the blood out, watching it go down the drain with a blank expression.
This... this was nothing, Raj repeated to himself like a mantra hoping to convince himself. But worry still ate at him as something about this scenario felt familiar to him. Raj took a moment to exit the bathroom making sure no one had overheard him before heading to the kitchen to drink something to soothe his throat as he thought. He exhaustedly watched the kettle boil his hands still slightly shaky as he poured himself tea. Somehow coughing up that tiny petal had left him so drained and Raj slumped at the table with his tea feeling as though he could just fall asleep here. But he powered through, slowly and carefully sipping at his tea. His throat burned from the heat for a moment before a nice soothing feeling overpowered it, helping Raj relax a little bit despite his whirring thoughts.
"Blood... flowers.." Raj muttered to himself his voice hoarse, pondering why this felt familiar to him. He brought the blood speckled Marigold petal out and held it between his fingers, thinking of his home as he did so. Suddenly Raj sat up straight in his seat, a deep seated dread rushing through him like a torrent. Back home... when he was young there was a story told to the children by the elders. It had been so long ago Raj had forgotten till now... the flower sickness. It was folklore, a story to warn children... Raj had believed it to bee a grim fairy-tale to scare children but now it felt hauntingly real. Raj fought to remember the story clearly but it was fragmented "A woman who's love was not returned... was consumed by flowers.." Raj whispered to himself taking a deep sip from his now cooled tea to collect himself. He must be overthinking things, getting to deep into his mind and making himself paranoid over nothing. But it felt correct... just like that poor woman, Raj knew his affections were not returned and the blood stained petal clutched in his palm seemed to mock him.
Perhaps the stories were true after all that the elders were not just trying to scare him as a child... maybe this flower sickness was a real thing. Raj longed to talk to Damian about this, knowing the mans logical thinking would be able to calm his worries and help him find the real answer. If this was a sickness Damian would be able to just treat it Raj was sure of it. But the more Raj thought about going to Damian to ask for his help, the more he felt his throat constrict once again and he feared that he'd end up coughing up blood again. No he couldn't go to Damian about this, at least for now. Firstly Raj needed to find out if this flower sickness was real and then from there he would figure out what he could do to fix the issue himself without involving Damian or the others... he didn't want to cause trouble for any of them especially if this all turned out to be a figment of his imagination, a construct made by Raj's mind regarding his fear about his feelings for Damian. So he would go about things alone and hopefully fix this little petal problem before things got out of hand. If things got worse then.... then he would talk to Damian.
Raj leaned back in the chair with a deep sigh staring at the petal. "Marigolds huh? Fitting... a flower of sorrow.." He muttered melancholily. He would be fine... he always was.