Crozier’s been holding onto his more undignified noises, even if things are becoming more and more uncomfortable with each pass of the bandage. Raju happens to reach the point in his chest where the ribs are the most damaged, and he groans quietly and looks up to the ceiling as his body tries to readjust.

“I’ve had a mango before,” he gasps, blinking rapidly, “but I couldn’t tell you what it tasted like. It was lifetimes ago.”

He wants to elaborate - sometimes those stories can help, not just to hear them but to tell them, but for the life of him he can’t focus on anything but the now. He bangs the heel of his hand against the arm of the chair, exhaling slowly as he tries to gather himself. It’s better now, things have settled and he can handle the ache.

“I’d eat anything fresh though. Do you know what I’ve wanted since coming to Milton? An orange. A goddamned orange.”