Sorta trigger warning

Alex Pov
I lied in bed, watching TV and trying not to touch my hair. Not after this morning. I started chemotherapy about two weeks ago and this morning, when I woke up, you know how people tend to run their hands through their hair after waking up?

So I did that, and I did not like what I saw in my hand afterwards. I don't want to look like I have cancer. I just want to be fucking normal for god damn once.

But no, I had to be depressed,
and then I had to go off and wear this stupid fucking trench coat and carry a knife on me.

Then I started smoking and now I have fucking cancer.
Great.

Ed walked in with his girlfriend Eleanora.

"You're missing some hair,"
Ed noted as he walked in.

"Oh really? I hadn't realized." I said, barely sparing him a glance.

"Hey don't be mean to me. Tom and I are paying for your chemo you know." Ed told me.

"What are you gonna do? Let me die?" I hissed.

"Slowly and in pain." Ed replied, clicking his tongue.

I glared at him, flipping him off. Eleanora hit his shoulder, shaking her head.

"So have you talked to your boyfriend recently?" Ed asked.

"Yeah. Why?" I asked.
"You have a boyfriend?" Eleanora asked.

"Mhm. I'm here and queer now leave me alone." I muttered, my eyes trained on the TV which was playing Nice Guys.

"Just askin'."
Ed shrugged.

"Where's Tom by the way?" I asked him.

"I think he's talkin' to your school or something like that. Letting them know why you've been absent for nearly a month." Ed replied.

"Oh and Tom wanted me to tell you so you aren't super angry when this goes down," Ed added.

Well.
This is gonna be fucking great.

"You have surgery in two weeks."
He said.

"What?!" I exclaimed, coughing for a moment.

"Yeah. Stage three cancer will do that to you Al. Couple doctors said radiation treatment might help." He told me.

I felt my eye twitch a little.

"I want to fucking die."
I muttered, scratching my wrists.

"Yeah well if you die from cancer that'd be kinda sad. I mean you fucking trained to overco-"

"Overcome cancer Ed? Yeah, because Tom taught us how to fight off deadly fucking diseases. My bad, I musta missed a day or two." I hissed.

"Hey, no need to be a prick-"

"Actually, I think if there's anytime to be a prick it's now. You know why? Because I'm fucking dying Ed." I shot at him.

Ed rolled his eyes.
"You're not dying Alex," He said.

"Yeah? Yeah, I'm not dying? I have stage three lung cancer Ed. I've seen the statistics. At best I have six months." I said.

"Yeah well you're a fucking Stevens so you're going to be fine." He hissed.

"I'm a Hamilton."
I growled, glaring at him with the upmost hatred in my eyes.

"Alex I'd hardly say you're a Hamilton." Ed hissed.

Eleanora excused herself from the room.

"What?" I asked, wanting to strangle him.

"Tom fucking adopted you Alex, so you're a Stevens. Man the fuck up."
Ed said.

"He never adopted me. There was no legal work. He just waltzed while I was vulnerable and-"

"Took you in. Fed you. Gave you clothed and a roof over your damn head. You were living on the streets Alex and you're going to tell me that you weren't grateful when Tom brought you back home?" Ed asked, his voice spilling with aggression.

"Maybe I wouldn't have gotten cancer if he'd left me on the streets." I said.

"Yeah, maybe. But maybe you'd get taking to a fuckin' Refuge and beaten every other night-"

"I was beaten!"
I exclaimed.

"I was fucking twelve when I had a knife in my hand and was attempting combat with people twice my size!"
I shouted.

"Yeah and you still are the worst fighter I've ever seen!" Ed yelled at me.

"No I'm-"
I cut myself off, coughing into my arm.

"Jesus Alex,"
Ed muttered, sitting down.

I coughed into my arm a few more times before collapsing completely.

I ran a hand through my hair, my breath hitching for a moment when I brought my hand back and saw my own fucking hair in my hand.

"Nice hair you got there." Ed muttered. "Get out." I hissed.

"No way. I'm your brother-"

"Get the fuck out."
I growled.

He huffed, getting up and leaving the room. I wanted to break down right then but I couldn't bring myself to tears.

I felt numb.
I guess that's better.
Feeling nothing instead of everything at once.

I guess that's better.

I want to die so badly. I want to rip the wires off my chest, outta my arms and just watch as blood pours from my wrists to the floor.

I want that.

Numb is good.