Ed was on his knees breathing heavily, both hands gripped tightly to the rim of the sink and his sweaty forehead leaning against it. It was all he could do to keep himself from falling over. The taste of blood curdled on his tongue and trailed a small river or red down his chin, but he didn't have the energy to wipe it away. He stayed like that for some time before he summoned up the strength to stand, heavily relying on the sink as support.
Almost as soon as he as was up, he felt his chest constrict again. "Fuck, not agai-" A harsh cough erupted from his throat, causing him to double over. If his right arm had been flesh, the knuckles would have been white from how tightly he was gripping the side of sink. His left hand was held to his mouth as rough breaths were forced from his chest, almost as though trying to stop what he knew would follow. It did not. A particularly violent cough sent him forward more, head now awkwardly resting on the faucet, as blood seeped through his finger. He felt the tears running down his face as he hacked up another handful of blood.
He was currently on forced leave from work. His coworkers all took notice at his palling complexion and lack of energy. Dorchette was convinced Ed came down with a flu, which was uncanny as Ed rarely got sick. He wished that was all he had, but no, this was worse, far worse. Although this had been going on for a while, Ed was able to convince them that it was just a cold and that he was able to work. After a few weeks, they gave him no choice.
Somehow he'd been able to hide this from Alfons thus far, but he was honestly unsure for how much longer. His cough was getting worse and more frequent to the point where almost every coughing fit led to him on the floor or leaning heavily on something for support. He would carry a rag around with him (it used to be his shirt before it was stained) in case he couldn't make it to a sink in time. If Alfons was to find out, he didn't want it to happen by him finding blood stains scattered around the house.
When his coughing finally died down, he sunk to the floor again on weak legs. How many times have I been here like this? One hand still on the sink, he used his other to wipe the blood off his face with the back of his hand. He stared at his shaking arm, stained red with a streak of blood across the back, while most of his palm was covered in it. Since when did it contrast his skin so drastically?
He was dying. As much as he wanted to, there was no denying it. They didn't have any money to go to a doctor and even if they did, there was probably nothing that could be done. It wasn't as though they could pay for treatment. That wasn't that which bothered him though. The one thing that had been on his mind since he got here was Al. It had been almost two years since Ed did the transmutation that ended him up here, but he had never known if Al was successfully back in his own body and doing well. Before he died, he needed to know that Al was safe. But there was no way he could. Although he was sure that he had done it correctly, without the confirmation that he did, Ed would never let it leave his mind. It was bad enough that Al had to live for the past two years without his only family, but if Ed were to die, there would be absolutely no chance that they could ever be reunited. If Ed were to die, he would be abandoning Al completely.
He heard the front door opening, accompanied by a familiar voice announcing his presence. Shit, He's back from work already? How long have I been sitting here? He can't find me like this. Ed made to stand up, but his legs wouldn't allow him to. "Shit…" He heard Alfons calling to him from the kitchen, knowing that Ed was home since he was sick. Ed made another attempt at pulling himself up, but to no avail. He hadn't bothered closing the bathroom door, not thinking it was necessary since he was home alone. He looked over to it, but it seemed so much farther than it actually was.
Alfons called out to him again and Ed could hear him walking around the house, seeing if Ed had fallen asleep in some random spot in the house again. It didn't take him long to get to the bathroom, but when he did he was at Ed's side in an instant, panic written all over his face. "Edward! Edward, what happened?" He put a hand on Ed's back and could feel him shaking from the toll his illness had taken on him. That combined with his sweat covered forehead, ragged breathing, and blood smeared hand was enough to tell Alfons what Ed had been hiding from him. If it was this bad, Ed must have been keeping it from him for a while now. He made a slight move to usher Ed to stand up, but Ed just gave his head a weak nod, and that was enough for him to understand he wasn't ready (or was unable) to move.
Alfons stood up to get a cloth and soaked it with cool water before bending back down next to Ed. He brought it to Ed's face, wiping away the sheen of sweat that gathered on his sickly skin, as well as the trail of blood that escaped from his lips down his chin. Alfons could feel his skin hot and burning under the cold cloth, so after wiping the blood from Ed's hand as well, he helped him shuffle back to lean against the wall and placed the cloth on his forehead. Normally, Ed would have protested to the closeness and the fact that Alfons was acting so intimate, but the fact that he barely reacted was a heavy indication as to just how bad it was.
Ed tried to focus on evening his breaths as Alfons worked to help him clean up, although he was lightheaded and was only semi aware of it. He found himself leaning against a wall, and the cold cloth felt nice against his burning skin. He let his head fall back and his eyes close as Alfons spoke up. "How long have you been hiding this from me?" His words were soft, not accusing, but Ed could tell he was hurt that he hadn't trusted him with this.
He felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes as Alfons undid the top few buttons of his shirt to dab at his neck and chest with another cold cloth. "…I'm sorry." His voice was raw and scratchy. It hurt to speak, it hurt when his breath hitched as tears started to roll down his cheeks, and it hurt when a sob was torn from his throat, but it didn't matter. They didn't stop. "A-al, I'm s-sorry! I'm so s-sorry!"
Alfons felt his heart torn in two as Ed began to collapse in front of him. He always knew him to be a strong person, someone who would never be caught dead showing a weakness to someone. But Alfons had already found him in such a state, so what did it matter if he were to cry now. He knew why Ed didn't want to tell him. And he knew that if Ed were currently in his right mind, he'd never let Alfons get this close to him emotionally. And he knew that Ed actually felt bad for Alfons having to find him like this and help him.
But he also knew he wasn't the one Ed was apologizing to.
And he hated it.