Zalfie sick fic: hard times

two- moving fast

Hey! This update is completely for Shaytardsokay - that you for your lovely comment! Hope you like this xxx

By the time Zoe had finished her conversation and dashed back stage, Alfie was had been escorted outside into a car park in the back. Laying her eyes on him broke her heart, he was perched on the ground, his back leaning against a wall for support, his eyes darting between the two medics surrounding him and his face a picture of fear and confusion. Zoe called out his name and ran towards him, but as she got near he mumbled between gasps for air 'Zoe. Don't.' She stopped, confused and slightly hurt by his instruction to keep away before continuing forward, his reason for stopping her becoming clear as he bent forward and vomited on the ground in front of him. He looked up at Zoe through droopy eyelids, concerned. She merely crouched down beside him, rubbing warm circles on his back: 'I'm okay,' she whispered 'I'm here for you now, I'm not feeling anxious, don't worry about me' and as she said the words, she even managed to convince herself.

Alfie bent forward and more crimson vomit poured from his mouth and nose. One paramedic turned to the other 'we need to get him to the ER' he rushed, his female colleague nodded, bending down to make eye contact with Alfie. 'Hey sweetie,' she said calmly 'I know this is all a little scary, but we're gonna get you into the hospital and get you fixed up good as new, okay?' Alfie nodded. 'Alright. Can you grab onto my hands?' She held her hands out to him and Alfie grabbed them with what little strength he had left. 'Deep breath' instructed the paramedic as she hauled him to his feet and onto the gurney, 'Good job, just get yourself comfy there, we'll do all the hard work from here on out.' Alfie glanced behind his shoulder and caught a glimpse of Zoe behind him. Reading his expression she squeezed his shoulder 'I'm coming with you, don't worry.' With that, Alfie sighed with relief, allowing the paramedic to place the oxygen mask over his face and letting the sleep he'd been battling wash over him.

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The next time Alfie woke up it was to the sound of an annoying beeping. 'Zo,' he mumbled, his eyes still closed 'turn that off.' When the noise didn't stop Alfie peeled his eyes open hazily, and the memories of the meet and greet come flooding back to him. The beeping increases and he suddenly feels a hand on his shoulder 'alf, calm down gorgeous, you're okay, I'm here.'

Zoe's P.O.V
Alfie's chest is heaving as he starts to panic, his hand grabbing at the oxygen mask over his face. I gently pull as hit hand, careful not to disturb his IV. 'Relax Alf, leave that there it's helping you.' Alfie's eyes meet mine and I gave him a stern but reassuring look. He sighs and gives in. 'I feel like shit.' He states, matter of factly. I chuckle lightly and the uncharacteristic comment 'I know gorgeous, the doctors are just finding out what's wrong now so we can get something to make you feel better' I smile, trying to ignore how frail and frightened he looks in the hospital bed.
There's a knock at the door and a doctor walks in 'Mr Deyes,' he smiles 'you're awake! How are you feeling?' 'Fine.' Alfie responds, drawing into himself, his moment of honestly long forgotten. The doctor raises his eye brows but his voice softens 'I know that isn't strictly true, how about we start with a more direct question, how long have you been feeling under the weather?' Alfie sighs 'About 2 weeks' he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. The doctor nods in silence. 'When can I go back to vidcon?' Alfie asks, a little more confidently. 'Alfie. Your test results have shown your white cell count is very low- I'd like you to go back to England for some tests. We would do them here but they would only repeat them when you got home and I see no reason to put you through them twice.' My heart starts racing, what does he mean 'put him through them'? White cell count? This all sounds too serious. The doctor interrupted my thoughts 'I've been in contact with your local doctors and we've arranged for you to be admitted in hospital the day after you get home. In terms of flying we'll give you plenty of pain killers and medication to keep you comfortable for the journey and-' Alfie cut the doctor off 'yeah but what's wrong with me? I need to stay here? Can't you just give me some antibiotics or something- I still have a lot of events to go.' The doctor sighed, Alfie's apprehension clear. 'Alfie. Unfortunately a low cell count can indicate something a little more serious. I have to ask, do you have a family history of Leukaemia?'...