Wow, I've certainly been inactive… Anyway, no one worry, I have a long weekend so We All Fall Down will be updated on Sunday or Monday, but today I am going to play Pokémon and Minecraft till I get it out of my system and I can focus correctly XD Yes, I do feel abnormally childish this week.
On the other hand, I'm considering donating my hair to Locks of Love for Christmas (I realize that some people don't think they're the best choice because they sell the smaller bits of hair 'to make up for losses in buying wigs', but I don't meet the 12-inch requirement for the group I want to donate for and Locks of Love only require 10). So, I feel a little less childish after that thought XD.
So, I have always wanted to a fic on wisdom teeth, and I have used the government shutdown to accomplish this wish XD. I plan on making this a small two-shot full of pure, unadulterated dental pain and fluff. I've never gone oral surgery, but I've done a fair amount of research on the in's and out's of oral surgery (I literally have a ten page Word document filled with information on it) and I hope I can make it as realistic as possible. If there's anything wrong in this, please let me know, I love creative criticism more than anything! It makes both myself and the reader happy to have a good story!
There was something wrong with Alfred.
Arthur wasn't blind, he could see the small winces from the American's direction, and Alfred was too quiet to be healthy. Of course, Arthur couldn't just jump up and do something; there was already enough chaos at the G8 meeting without him interrupting, but the Briton did try to keep his eye on him. Having the meeting in England gave Arthur the benefit that if he needed to drag the young nation out of the hall he at least get him somewhere he knew he could get him help.
Alfred, outwardly, was fairly normal. He was ranting on and on about superheroes and such nonsense at a rapid speed, but he kept pausing slightly, and every so often he'd look down and rub at his jaw. When he did, it looked like he held back a wince before he went back on with his forced speech.
Looking around the room, Arthur noticed that he wasn't the only one who was worried. Both Mathieu and Francis watched the American silently, probably equally confused and troubled by Alfred's strange behavior and they were accessing they the situation just as much as Arthur was. The fact that they could see a problem as well just concerned Arthur further.
"So, dudes, I think we totally just take global warming, and push it somewhere-"The American stopped mid-sentence. He squeaked a little in pain as he both winced and held his jaw at the same time.
"That's it," Arthur stood and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him to the door, "I'll call one of my brothers to take my place. Mathieu, can you cover both your brother's place as well as your own?"
The Canadian nodded, looking a little relieved, "I can do that."
"'m fine," Alfred argued, still clutching his jaw, "Just a tooth ache…"
"It's disruptive," Ludwig commented, not looking up from his papers, "We can get more done without your constant stopping."
Alfred was silenced by the comment as Arthur led him out of the meeting hall and out to the Brit's car before he could argue anymore.
Arthur quickly ushered him into the passenger seat, and had him move his hand from his face, "Open."
"Wha?" the American leaned his head back slightly against the seat's head rest.
"Open your mouth, Alfred," Arthur put one knee on the car floor so he could lean a little closer, "I have to figure out what's wrong."
"Just take me to a dentist or something," he moaned, turning his head away, "I don't want your hand in my mouth, that's weird…"
Arthur sighed, "Grow up, will you? I'm trying to help you," he ran a hand threw his hair, trying to calm himself down a little, "Would you rather me figure out what's causing your pain now and avoid a longer wait, or we can go straight to a dentist where we can wait for an appointment and they can spend an hour arguing over what's wrong with you. For all I know, you could just be over reacting and I can treat it."
"…" Alfred turned slightly back to him and stared out the front window, "…fine…" him mumbled.
The Brit moved forward and sat awkwardly on the side of the seat and urging Alfred's mouth open. Once his mouth was open, the American groaned in pain, reflexively trying to close it again. Arthur put a hand behind his head and ran his fingers through his hair comfortingly before he even noticed what he was doing, "It's alright, lad. It's going to be alright, I promise."
Alfred leaned back into the hand, mind hazy with pain. The Briton once again opened his mouth, this time much more slowly and gingerly.
When he peered into his mouth, nothing really seemed out of place before the Brit peered in the back and everything became clear. Arthur chuckled slightly, finally understanding, "How long have you been putting up with the pain?"
The American held up one finger.
"A day?" Arthur removed his hand from Alfred's mouth.
The American shook his head, "Week."
"A week!" the Brit laughed sadly from both amusement and pity, "Git, only you could go a week with perocoronitis."
"Huh?" the younger nation tilted his head, confused.
Arthur sighed and stood up, "Your wisdom teeth are coming in crooked," he said, "When your third molars come in, gum tissue forms over the impacted tooth that comes partially through the gum and the skin next to your gum opens. The area gets infected easily, like yours has. Thankful, it looks like only one side is severe, "
Alfred groaned and leaned his head back, "Great… now what?"
The Brit patted him on the shoulder and closed the car door. He walked over to the right side* and sat in the driver's seat, "I'm going to have to take you home. I don't think you want to wait in a dentist's office just to get an appointment, do you?" the American shook his head miserably, "Right, then, let's get you home, hm?"
They didn't speak the whole way to Arthur's house, mostly due to Alfred's jaw pain, but also from the awkwardness between the two. Some pain faded with time, but a brother turning against the other was a pain that didn't fade away like a tooth ache did, but the fact that one could still worry so much about someone who had caused him so much harm was almost too much to handle. It was a shocking feeling, and neither Alfred nor Arthur wanted to ruin it."
Once they arrived at the old brick building Arthur call home, the Brit quickly hopped out of the car and opened Alfred's door, "Come on, lad," he slipped an arm around his ex-colony and helped him stand up slowly. Together, they slowly got to the front door. Arthur pulled his keys out of his pocket with a little effort and opened the door.
Arthur never really modernized his home to fit with the times. Most of his furniture was Victorian, though he did have all the modern day conveniences like a flat-screen TV, a computer and laptop, as well as others. The colors were sophisticated and subdued; light beiges and accents of gold made up the atmosphere.
He led Alfred into the living room and sat him down on the sofa, "Hold on a moment," Arthur went to a closet and pulled two pillows out and threw them down on the couch then found a blanket for him, "My guest room isn't set up," he explained, "I hope you don't mind sleeping on the couch tonight."
"It's fine," the American mumbled, lying down on his back and propping his head up with the pillows, "No big deal."
Arthur laid the blanket down over him without a word, "I'll get an ice pack for your jaw."
"Thanks, Iggy," Alfred said, tiredly.
"Don't mention it," he ignored the ever despised nickname, "It's what I'm here for, right?"
The Briton went to his kitchen and scoured the fridge for an ice pack. He knew he had one somewhere, Arthur just hoped that he had put it back in the fridge the last time he needed it.
While he searched, he remembered his own experience with what Alfred was going through.
With nations, everything had meaning, and everything held a certain level of symbolism. In Arthur's experience, tooth problems were rare. He had only known a few nations that had dental issues, and only a handful who had issues with their wisdom teeth. All those who did had one thing in common; all of them were empires that had fallen from power. He himself had extreme pain in his jaw when his empire fell, but they didn't have the medical technology to remove the teeth that was causing him problems. Arthur had to wait several years before the surgery was developed and they had to pull all of his wisdom teeth as well as one molar that was knocked out of place by one of the wisdom teeth. It was an experience he didn't want Alfred to go through.
Of course, Alfred wasn't exactly going anywhere now, nor was he an empire; America was one of the last superpowers the world had left. There was only one thing Arthur could think of to explain what was happening, but it seemed like a very logical reason. The Brit figured that this was a nation losing a little bit of its gains. He heard about America's government shutdown, and Arthur figured this was the result.
The Brit congratulated himself once he found the blue icepack in the back of his freezer. He took it and closed the fridge. He quickly wrapped it in a kitchen towel then hurried back to the living room.
"Here," he sat on the end of the couch by Alfred's feet, leaning over to hold the pack to the American's face, "Switch it between sides every once in a while."
"'Kay…" Alfred took the icepack and leaned into it for a second or two.
Arthur patted him on the shoulder, "Would you like the television on?"
"I guess," he sighed, miserably.
The Brit reached over and picked up the remote, handing it to him, "I'll be right back. I'm going to call the dentist, alright?"
Alfred nodded, "Don't worry, I ain't going anywhere."
Arthur held back a retort about abusing the queen's English, instead choosing to smile fondly at the boy he once called his brother and ruffled his hair before leaving the room.
He went to his office and picked up a phone and his contact book. Arthur quickly flipped through the list till he came to the number for Dr. A Sherman's dental office. He dialed the number quickly, holding the receiver to his ear.
"Hello," a peppy secretary picked up, "Sherman Dental Clinic, Lucy speaking. How my I help you?"
Arthur sighed, "I need to make an appointment for my…" he hesitated, "My brother. He has pain in his jaw on both sides, I'm positive it's his wisdom teeth and I think he has perocoronitis as well."
"Um…" the girl sounded confused by the large words.
"His gums are infected and he needs his wisdom teeth taken out," Arthur repeated, dumbing it down a little, "Can you please make an appointment for him as soon as possible?"
The woman retook her chipper voice, "Of course! What's his name?"
"He's not on your list, miss," Arthur facepalmed, annoyed that he forgot something so important, "Can I talk to Dr. Sherman?"
She went off the phone for a moment, "Here he is, sir."
"Hello?" a man's voice sounded on the phone.
"Dr. Sherman?" he addressed, "This is Arthur Kirkland."
"Ah!" Dr. Sherman laughed, "Of course, a pleasure Mr. Kirkland. How can I be of assistance?"
"My brother was in the country for a meeting and I noticed he was in pain," Arthur explained, pacing slightly, "I discovered that his wisdom teeth were coming in crooked and that his gums around the teeth were infected."
"Are all of the wisdom teeth crooked?" the dentist asked.
Arthur moved the phone to his other ear, "Yes, and I would very much appreciate it if you could remove the teeth as soon as is convenient for you."
He heard a ruffle of papers on the other end, "The only opening I have this week is tomorrow at ten thirty in the morning. It will be difficult, but I can manage it."
"Thank you, doctor," he smiled, "Both Alfred and I appreciate it very much."
He hung up the phone and went to the living room.
The TV was on, showing the news, "How are you feeling?" he asked as he sat back down.
"'orrible…" the American switch the icepack to his other cheek, "Did you make an appointment?"
"Tomorrow at 10:30 alright with you?" the Brit rubbed his arm.
Alfred leaned into the touch slightly, "Thank you. I really appreciate this… Artie?"
"Yes, Alfred?" the Brit responded.
"Can we forget all this when it's over?" he closed his eyes.
Arthur rubbed the top of his hand. He understood, nations didn't take care of one another with little things. Showing weakness was a privilege only family got in the world of personifications. With family, they were different, more open and so much more fragile, and no one else had to know about it.
"Of course, lad," Arthur leaned over and pet his hair, "Consider it forgotten."
Alfred smiled. He relaxed a little more, stretching his legs so that his feet rested on Arthur's lap.
The Brit scoffed, "Do I look like a foot rest, git?"
"A little bit," Alfred opened his eyes again, turning slightly to watch the TV.
Arthur lightly slapped his feet, amused, "You're lucky you're injured."
Alfred chuckled a little, wincing slightly afterward, "Love you too."
The Brit sighed. He stood up again, stretched, and retrieved another blanket from the closet. Arthur put a hand under Alfred's back and implored him to sit up, which the American did begrudgingly but quietly. He picked up Alfred's pillow and sat down in its place before laying the blanket over his legs then putting the pillow on his lap. Alfred figured what the Brit was doing and laid his head on his lap.
Arthur smiled as the American cuddled closer to his chest. He took the icepack from him and held it to Alfred's left cheek for him and used the other hand to pet his hair kindly, "Relax, lad. You'll be fine by this time tomorrow. The doctor's going to take good care of you in the morning."
"…thank you," Alfred smiled, "I really do love you, big bro."
"I love you, too, little brother," Arthur kissed his forehead and leaned back a little, "I love you, too."