Chapter Text
Lityerses laughed, but the itch in his throat didn't go away.
He didn’t even remember what Apollo had just said, but there he was, laughing despite the distance between them. Laughing despite the way his throat constricted and the way his lungs couldn’t seem to get enough air without him.
The sun god had been… distant lately. There was no other way to describe it, Lit could hardly get them to hang out one on one like they used to- even now, during a rare moment in which they're alone together, Apollo will hardly look at him. Will hardly touch him, the way he used to; when he used to sit so close their shoulders and thighs were pressed together, when he used to slip his hand into Lit’s and intertwine their fingers just because, when he used to go to Lit and smile as if he was really worth something, when he used to trace the scar on Lit’s neck and tell him over and over again that he’s alive, that Heracles and Midas will never hurt him again, not if he had anything to say about it.
Lit shifted closer, almost on instinct, but Apollo recoiled from him as if burned (not that he could be burned, he was the god of the gods forsaken sun). Lit pretended it didn’t hurt, like the loss of contact didn’t make him want to scream, like he didn’t stay awake at night agonizing over what he did (what he must’ve done) to make Apollo finally realize he wasn’t worth it (and really, it was only a matter of time, he knew that, but why does it still hurt so much?)
Apollo’s smile became strained, (well, more strained than usual, when was Apollo’s smile not strained these days?) before he spit out… something- an excuse -and suddenly in a flash of light, he was gone, and Lit was left to stare at the place the god was just standing, trying to feel anything but hollow.
He’ll wonder, later, if he would’ve taken that hollow feeling over what happened next.
The pain in his chest sharpened and there was a lump in his throat, choking him. He cleared his throat to try to get rid of the feeling, but suddenly he found himself choking on nothing.
Coughs bubbled out of him, rattling his chest and tearing at his throat. He could barely breathe, all he could register was something in his windpipe, something he needed out.
Mercifully, the thing dislodged, and with one final retch, it landed in his hand. The first thing he saw when he pried his eyes open was blood. His cupped hand held a splatter of the crimson liquid, he must’ve coughed up some blood along with…
His thoughts trailed off as he stared at the thing in the middle of it, even he could tell what it was. Carefully, he lifted his hand, and gently plucked it from the pool of blood in his other.
In the light of the Waystation, a purple hyacinth petal sat, pinched between his fingers.
Would it surprise you, dear reader, that Lityerses decided to tell no one at all that he had coughed up a flower petal and a mouthful of blood? No, of course it wouldn’t, Lit wouldn't ask for help if he was on the verge of death, and especially not about something so innocuous as flora or bodily fluids. (Never mind the fact that he threw them up.)
It didn’t go away after a few days like Lityerses had thought would happen. If anything- it got worse.
He frequently had to suddenly pause his training to hack up more blood and flower petals. It wasn’t only hyacinths he coughed up either, there were also smaller petals; ones that resembled daisy petals but were as bright a yellow as the sun.
Beheading dummies until he couldn’t think anymore was one of Lit’s favorite pastimes, especially since the one who liked to nag him most was-
His next swing went wide as a cough jarred his chest.
His sword clattered to the ground as he lost balance and dropped to his knees, retching as the cursed flower petals forced their way out of his throat. They landed on the floor with a wet plop as Lit finally got them out.
He stared down in confusion, panting, because those weren’t the purple hyacinth petals he’d gotten used to. They were smaller, though no less covered in blood, and bright yellow.
He was startled out of his thoughts when a knock rang out from the door.
Lityerses startled as he glanced back. It’d been surprisingly easy to hide his condition from the rest of the Waystation so far; he was usually able to excuse himself for a few moments to hack up a few petals if he absolutely had to, but since, in Leo’s words, he “practically rotted in the training room,” it was quite simple to dispose of the evidence without anyone knowing a thing. But someone was right outside that door, and Lit still had a full puddle of blood and new flower petals in front of him.
Leo’s voice rang out from the other side. “Lit! Emmie says to stop rotting away in the training room-” If the situation was any less precarious, he would’ve rolled his eyes. “-and help out with lunch already!”
Lityerses took a deep breath to steady himself, and hopefully make his voice sound less wrecked than it actually was; “Did she actually say that?” and waited for Leo’s playful giggle to reach his ears before continuing; “Whatever, I’ll be out soon, just let me clean up.”
He sat tense as he listened to Leo’s chirp of response, and waited for his foster-brother to walk away.
When he could no longer hear his receding footsteps, he sighed in relief. Slowly, he got up, scooping the flowers into a nearby trash can, and grabbing a towel to soak up the blood. He’d keep the towel with the rest of his laundry- even though it was black and the blood wasn’t visible, it was still gross to imagine someone using it when it was stained with his blood.
His thoughts turned to the new flowers that had forced their way out of his throat. He’d only been coughing them up for a couple of days now, and they showed no signs of stopping- especially today with the new ones. He couldn’t quite tell what they were, but clearly whatever’s happening to him is getting worse if he isn’t just coughing up hyacinth petals, but more different flowers as well.
He shook himself out of his thoughts as he opened the door into his room and tossed the towel into the laundry basket. Groaning, he dragged his hand down his face as he turned back out the door and headed to the kitchen.
He was fine, he was handling it, he didn’t need to worry anyone over this- a few flower petals and some blood isn’t a cause for concern. The residents of the Waystation were the kindest people he’d ever met, and he’d even began tentatively thinking of them as family, it wouldn’t do to needlessly worry them over Lit of all people when he could handle himself- and besides, who’s to say that they won’t tire of him one day? That they won’t finally figure out that Lityerses isn’t worth it- their love and kindness (just like Apollo)?
No, he’d preciously cling to any love they’d be willing to give- until he was inevitably left with no one again.
Lityerses sighed, how did he let Leo drag him into this again?
The son of Hephaestus had bodily dragged him from the training room to show him some new modifications he made on Festus with Jo’s help- and all of the mechanical talk was flying straight over Lit’s head.
Leo was just excitedly showing him Festus’ new wings (Lit honestly couldn’t tell the difference), flapping his hands excitedly, before he felt the telltale tickle in the back of his throat- the one he’s gotten used to as a sign that he was about to vomit up some more flowers.
Quickly, he excused himself, unable to keep himself from letting a few coughs slip out. Leo’s brows furrowed as he stared up at his older brother.
“That sounds pretty bad… Are you sure you don’t want Emmie to give you some tylenol or something?”
Lit shook his head, holding the traitorous coughs back through what must’ve been sheer will at that point. “I’m fine, it’s just a cough.”
He didn’t stay long enough to see if Leo believed him, he quickly went out the door and into the nearest bathroom (and, huh- that wasn’t here before. Was the Waystation helping him-?)
He didn’t get a chance to finish his next thought as he collapsed to the tiled floor and the coughs forced their way out of him with a vengeance.
He retched in earnest, tears beading in his eyes- he couldn’t breathe, the flower petals in his lungs and throat choking and suffocating him. He didn’t remember when the fit had finally subsided, and was left heaving on the bathroom floor.
He cracked open his eyes- when did he close them? -and stared down at the mess before him.
Staining the pristine white bathroom tiles was the puddle of blood that was becoming disturbingly normal these past few days, though much larger than usual. Scattered across were the hyacinth and daisy petals, and lying in the middle of it all…
Lityerses let out a shaky breath as he stared at the center of the pool.
In the center, there wasn’t a simple petal like he’d been coughing up all week- no, it was a full flower- a small hyacinth bloom. His fingers lightly brushed against the velvety surface of the flower.
Well… shit.