This idea has actually been in my head for a pretty long time. I've just gotten around to writing it recently. :) This is just a short side project to my other oneshots and HetaOffice and will be updated infrequently. It will most likely not be longer than 12-14 chapters. I hope I got all of the pregnancy symptoms down right...Fatigue, nausea, morning sickness, there will be more added as the story goes on. I've always wanted to write how Poland would deal with pregnancy, getting fat and not being able to fit into his clothes and everything. So, I wrote this.

Crappy story title is crappy.

Depending on whether or not you guys want it, the rating may or may not be bumped up.

I write too much LietPol. D:

Warnings: (for the chapter) Mpreg, LietPol (established relationship), vomiting, mentions of sex, and various pregnancy symptoms
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Just A Little Mistake

Chapter 1 – In Which the Pole Finds Out He'll Be a Mama

World meetings were always such a drag for Poland. No matter which nation sponsored it, America always ended up hijacking it somehow, England and Germany would get mad, and then everyone started fighting until someone restored order. And after that, they would just talk and talk and talk. Now, Poland himself was a huge fan of talking, but not this kind of talk. It was just so boring!

But this meeting seemed to be even more boring. America had said something stupid (already) and was banned from saying anything until the next turn. Spain was talking about oil or shipping or immigration or human rights or some other thing.

"Poland?"

"Hmm?"

Lithuania was looking at him with such concern Poland couldn't help but smile a little.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Poland nodded.

"Nah, I'm just, like, a little tired, you know?" He yawned. That's true. He had been awfully tired in the past few weeks. Maybe he just needed to drink some stronger tea, or maybe even some coffee...

"You've been tired a lot," Lithuania said. "I'm starting to get a little worried, Po."

"You're always worried." He sighed and rested his head on the table. "This meeting's boring. It's, like, even more boring than usual."

Lithuania put his hand on Poland's forehead. "You feel a little bit warm. It might just a little blip in your economy."

"If it was, wouldn't I, like, know?"

Lithuania smiled slightly and continued to pay attention to the meeting.

Poland never remembered Spain's voice being this smooth and soft, like a soothing lullaby. It just made him feel all warm and comfy; he was back home underneath the blankets again—a long lazy Saturday morning cuddling with Lithuania. But Lithuania wouldn't want to cuddle with him here! His eyelids began to droop. Maybe taking a small nap wouldn't be such a bad idea. He would be up and running before anyone even noticed. He finally closed his eyes and let sleep take him...

"Po...?"

"Nnn, not now, Sprinkles, mama's trying to sleep..."

"Poland?"

"Ow!"

He slid off his chair and onto the floor, his pens and papers falling down with him. He half-opened his eyes and saw a blurry figure standing over him. His arm hurt.

"P-Poland! Are you alright?"

He was hoisted to his feet as Lithuania examined him everywhere, face burning with guilt.

"Ah Dievas, I'm sorry, Poland!" he said, cupping his cheeks. Poland looked into his eyes and smiled. His eyes were always so gentle and sweet.

"Liet, I'm fine," he said. "Really." He hissed. "Err, never mind. My arm hurts a little. Right one."

Lithuania held up the arm. Poland winced slightly.

"Looks like a scrape; it's bleeding a little." He kissed it, and Poland whimpered. "Come on, we'll clean it up in the bathroom."

Poland followed him out of the room and down the deserted hall, their footsteps echoing on the walls. Poland found that he could barely walk; his fatigue weighed him down. He was so tired, he wanted to let Lithuania carry him.

"Hey, Liet, where is everyone?"

"The meeting ended around a half-hour ago." Lithuania opened the door to the bathroom and led him to the sink. "I tried to wake you up, but you're a pretty heavy sleeper."

"What, did you kick me off the chair or something?" Even though his tone was a bit brusque, Poland smiled.

"No. I...tried to nudge you, but I guess that I nudged you a bit too hard and you fell off." He dabbed some water on a paper towel and pressed it onto the scrape. Poland gasped.

"I'm sorry," Lithuania said.

"No...it's okay, Liet." He rubbed his eyes. Wow, he felt tired...

Lithuania removed the towel and threw it away. "There, now it looks better. It should heal soon."

Poland leaned against his shoulder. "Nnn, Liet, I can't wait to get home."

Lithuania wrapped his arm around his waist. "Me too." He kissed his cheek. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel. Our plane leaves in the morning."

"Agggghhhhhhh."

Poland wiped his mouth with some toilet paper and thew it into the filthy toilet. He flushed it, leaning back and resting the back of his head on the sink. It was five o'clock, and he had woken up about to hurl. He felt ill, nauseous, like he was on the side of a moving ship. Lithuania hadn't woken up, but he was sure to in an hour. Their flight from Madrid to Warsaw took off at eight-thirty, and Lithuania was always nervous when it came to getting to their flight on time.

Good God, what's wrong with me? he thought. He panted, and his throat burned from the stomach acid. He really hoped that this would just be a one-time thing.

Knock! Knock!

"Po? Are you alright?"

No, not Liet!

"Err, I'm fine! I just had to pee a little."

"Are you sure? I heard you throwing up."

"My pee was just...uhh, loud! That's what! I'm coming out!"

Poland stumbled to his feet and opened the door to a very worried Lithuania.

"Ha! You should, like, totally see your face right now," he croaked.

"Your breath smells like vomit." Poland froze. "Poland, please tell me what's wrong. I can't bear to see you like this."

"Liet, I'm telling you. I don't know."

Lithuania blinked and put his hands on Poland's shoulder, looking into his eyes. "Really?"

"Really."

Lithuania tapped his chin. "You know what I think it might be?"

"What?"

"You might have caught that E. coli that's spreading from Germany."

"Ewwww! Liet, that's totally gross!"

"Well, that's the only thing that I can come up with."

Poland sighed. "That's true."

He kissed his forehead. "Do you want to go back to bed or just get ready now?"

"Of course, I want to go to bed! Our flight leaves in three hours, Liet, and I still want as much beauty sleep as I can get!" Poland moved towards the bed.

"You're going to have to either clean out your mouth or sleep in the extra bed that's supposed to be yours. I don't want you hugging me with that breath."

Poland chuckled. "Yeah, I'll just brush my teeth. I'm still not done cuddling with you."

If anything, things only seemed to get worse back in Warsaw. The morning after they got back, nausea sent a horrified Poland running back into the bathroom again. And again. And again. Poland decided that he hated E. coli.

But the vomiting was just the worst of his problems. Fatigue began to plague him as well. No matter how much sleep he got the night before, he always felt tired.

He felt, if anything, worse for Lithuania. His partner could do nothing except stand by and watch as Poland became inexplicably tired or puked his guts out.

After he nearly fainted, he had enough.

Poland came home from dropping off some paperwork at the office, and staggered into his Lithuania's arms, panting heavily, his world spinning. (Thankfully, Lithuania was sweeping the floor in the entrance hall. If not, Poland would have collapsed on the floor.)

"L-Liet..." he gasped, burying his head in Lithuania's chest.

Lithuania lifted Poland into his arms bridal-style. "P-Poland, what happened?" he demanded in horror.

"I feel so weak, Liet. Like, I can barely move at all." He clutched Lithuania's shirt.

"Come on," Lithuania whispered. He carried Poland up the stairs and into his bedroom. He pulled the covers off and set him down.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, so we can make an appointment for the specialist. Do you want me to call?" Lithuania tucked him in.

"N-no." Now that he was laying down, his light-headedness appeared to be disappearing. "I'll do it."

Poland shakily picked up the phone from the bedroom table and put in the number. The phone rung once, twice, thr—

"Dr. Sobczak's office. May I ask who's calling?"

"Cześć. It's Feliks Łukasiewicz, and I'm calling for an a-appointment."

"Feliks Łukasiewicz? Are you on record?"

Poland huffed. "I'm, like, Polska!"

"Oh-oh!" Something clattered on the other line. "I-I'm sorry P-pol—Mr. Łukasiewicz. Uhh, what's the reason for this appointment?"

"I'm throwing up every morning, I feel so freaking exhausted, and I nearly collapsed a few minutes ago. When's Dr. Sobczak free?"

"The earliest is tomorrow morning at ten—"

"Great. Book me for then."

The receptionist scribbled something down. "Alright, Mr. Łukasiewicz, we'll see you then."

"Thanks." Poland clicked off the phone and laid his head down on the cool pillow, closing his eyes.

Lithuania sat on the bed next to him. "I made some dinner. Żurek. I thought it might help settle your stomach."

At the thought of the sour rye soup, Poland felt his gorge rise. "Ick. I'm, like, not in the mood for that, Liet. It sounds totally gross."

"Poland, you love żurek." Lithuania frowned slightly.

"Yeah, well, I think it's, like, gross now!"

Lithuania sighed. "Maybe I'll bring you a bowl up here in case you change your mind."

"Ehhhh."

While Lithuania went downstairs, Poland turned over on his stomach and wrapped his arms around his pillow, trying to find a position to soothe his body.

"I'm back."

Poland cracked an eye open. Lithuania carried a food tray over to him laden with a small bowl of soup as well as some fruit and bread. Poland smiled and turned over.

"Aw, Liet, that's too sweet. You shouldn't have." He sat up and wrinkled his nose.

"Eww! You really shouldn't have! It smells disgusting!"

"Po...?"

Poland ripped the covers off him and rushed into the bedroom bathroom, doubling over and splattering the toilet bowl with the contents of his stomach. (Lithuania just stood there with a mortified look on his face.) He gagged and retched and gasped for air. He turned around and rested his forehead on the cool surface of the faucet.

"Poland!"

Lithuania set the tray down on the floor and rushed over to his partner, wrapping his arms around his shoulder and gently wiping his mouth with some toilet paper.

Poland hugged Lithuania tightly. "I, like, haven't felt this awful in a really long time..."

Lithuania flushed the toilet. "I know, Poland," he said, burying his face in his soft hair. "I really hate seeing you like this."

"Hnnn."

They stayed that way for a long time, Lithuania holding Poland in his arms while Poland leaned into him. He breathed harshly, and his throat was still raw. What sort of bizarre E. coli strain—if it even was E. coli; Poland was starting to doubt that—made the victim feel so helpless and sick and tired and gross?

"Liet?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I still have some of the fruit?"

"Oh, of course!" Lithuania took a hold of his hand and helped him to his feet. Poland staggered a little and clutched Lithuania's arm. Back on the bed, Lithuania removed the soup and set the tray down on top of Poland.

"Mmm, thanks, Liet."

Poland bit into the yellow cantaloupe as Lithuania went downstairs with the soup bowl. Surprisingly, it actually tasted good, and he felt his stomach beginning to settle. In fact, it felt the best than it had been in the past few days.

"Guess you just needed some fruit, huh?" Poland giggled and patted his tummy.

Lithuania came back upstairs to a smiling Poland and half the fruit on the tray eaten.

"That was fast," he said.

"Yeah, and I, like, actually feel better too!" Poland replied, plopping a grape into his mouth.

Lithuania smiled and sat back down. "That's good!"

"Maybe I don't need the specialist visit after all!"

Poland did need the specialist visit after all.

The next morning, Poland got up, felt sick again, and hurled again. Dammit, was this thing ever going to leave him? He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked...pretty bad. At least he had the appointment today to look forward to...

He fell back into bed, but then he noticed that the bed was unusually lighter.

"Liet?"

He stayed on his back for a little while. After he had regained his breath, he went out the door and slowly down the stairs, making sure not to overexert himself while he was in this condition. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted from downstairs. Poland was not hungry.

In the kitchen, he found Lithuania talking rapidly in Lithuanian on his cell phone and waiting for a piece of toast to pop up. Poland was too dazed to decipher what he was saying, but Lithuania sounded exasperated and...was he even a bit angry?

Poland pulled up a chair for himself at the small kitchen table. Lithuania finally sighed and closed his phone. He jumped when he saw Poland.

"P-Poland, I didn't see you!" he said.

"Yeah, well, I'm here. Who're you talking to?"

"My boss."

"Oh."

Lithuania gave Poland a hug and kissed his cheek. "Poland, I'm sorry, but I have to leave. There's some sort of emergency session going on in the Seimas, and I have to be there."

Poland's heart dropped. He had expected Lithuania to come with him for the appointment, and Poland hated specialist visits, especially if he was alone. Not that Dr. Sobczak was a bad person or anything—he just hated them!

"What?" Poland whined. "How long are you going to be out?"

Lithuania shook his head. "I really don't know. Maybe I'll be back by the end of the day or maybe I'll have to stay in Vilnius for a little longer. I'm sorry, Poland. I would have really like to have gone to your appointment."

"Mmm." Poland tried to smile. "It's okay, Liet. I can totally handle the appointment on my own. Our jobs come first after all."

Lithuania smiled sadly and kissed his lips. "I'll text you as soon as I get to Vilnius, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm sorry, Poland." He went over to the toaster and out popped his very blackened and burnt toast.

"This is a great way to start the morning."

Poland kicked his legs back and forth on the examining table, biting his lip. He hated sitting on these things—the way the thin paper crinkled whenever he moved just sounded so weird! He had been the only one in the waiting room, thankfully, so he had avoided nosy people asking what he was in for. Dr. Sobczak was a doctor for humans; however, he had been given the fabulous job to be Poland's health specialist. Most nations had these—specialists who they could turn to when they felt ill and had no idea what was wrong.

"Poland, you're an odd sight in here," Dr. Sobczak said as he entered the room. Sobczak was a young doctor, barely in his forties, with light brown hair and blue eyes.

Poland looked up. "Y-Yeah, I haven't been feeling good."

Sobczak retrieved his file from the folder on the door. He opened it and took out a pen. "So, it appears that you've been vomiting, mainly in the mornings, been feeling tired and light-headed at times, and have an aversion to certain foods." He scribbled something down.

"That's right. Is it part of that E. coli thing?"

"Perhaps. Has your stomach been having cramps?"

"No."

More scribbles. "Have you been constipated?"

"Ew, yuck! No!"

Again with the scribbles. "Aside from the vomiting, you don't really have any of the symptoms of E. coli infection."

"Oh...what the heck is it then?"

"Let me just check your heart and lungs."

After that procedure was done, Sobczak sat down on a small, swiveling chair. "Your lungs sound fine, but your heartbeat is a lot faster than what I recall."

Poland blinked. "R-really?"

"Has there been any dramatic drop in stocks recently or a rise of crime rate in Warsaw?"

"N-no. Not that I, like, know of."

"Hmm. Any government turmoil?"

"Just the normal bickering."

"Economic unrest?"

"Just the stuff going on in Greece kinda affecting us."

Sobczak continued writing. He blushed a little and asked, "Ahh. Are you s-still having sex with that nation living with you?"

Poland's face burned. "...You mean, like, Lithuania?" he whispered. "Y-yeah, I am. B-but nations, like, can't get any sexually transmitted...umm, diseases and junk. And, Liet and I haven't done it in a while because I've been sick."

The doctor took a deep breath. "When was the last time?"

"Like, a month ago. Maybe a month and a half."

"...Do you use condoms?..."

"N-n-no..." Poland shrunk against the wall. "We don't..."

Sobczak closed his file and put it on a nearby desk. He ran a hand over his face. He must have thought of something because he expression perked up a little.

"Let me run a urine analysis for you. That should pick up any immediate problems, and some results of the test could come up within a few minutes."

Poland's eyes widened, and he sat up straight. "R-really? That sounds, like, good. What do I pee in?'

Sobczak chuckled and retrieved a small clear capped cup wrapped in plastic from a drawer. He handed it to Poland.

"Just this," he said. "Don't worry, it's completely sterile. The bathroom is the door straight down the hall."

"Alright! I can totally do this."

In the hall, Poland ripped the bag open with his teeth and closed the bathroom door. After he did his business, he went back to the room and handed the cup to Sobczak. "Here you go."

Sobczak nodded. "I'll run this over to the lab, and I'll have some of the results as soon as I get back."

As he walked away, Poland sat down on the examining table and gripped his knees. He would finally have the answers to all of his problems. But...what if it was some mutated virus or something that was transmitted between nations and humans and there wasn't a cure? Or what if it was some deadly disease that make its victim puke for the rest of their life? And if it was, how on earth would he tell Lithuania? The poor brunet was already worried enough for him as it was. Now with the results of this, Lithuania might have an anxiety attack—and he wasn't even the one sick!

A few minutes later, Sobczak came into the room with a grave and somewhat befuddled look on his face.

"Oh God, just tell, like, me what it is so I can get it over with!" Poland said.

Sobczak sat down next to Poland on the table, and said the words that Poland thought he would never hear in his life.

"Poland, are you aware that male nations can get pregnant?"

"WHAT?"

Poland stood up quickly, which was a really bad idea because his head started to swim.

"No. No—no—no—no—no—no!" He paced across the room, leaning on the wall. "No, no, I'm, like a guy. There's no possible way that I can be pregnant."

Sobczak, bless him, barely even blinked. "I have the results of the urine test right here, Poland. And the results point to pregnancy."

"Well, that test is, like, totally wrong!" Poland whirled around at him. "I can't be pregnant," he stated flatly.

"Poland, all of your symptoms are pregnancy symptoms," Sobczak continued. "The morning sickness, the fatigue, the aversion to certain foods—"

"Yeah, but I am not pregnant!" Poland breathed harshly. "And I'm not! And I'm, like, just going to go out into the world and prove to you that I'm—totally" He took that first step towards the door. "—not—" And the floor rushed up to meet him.

Notes:

Dievas - "God" in Lithuanian
Żurek – some Polish soup made with sour rye. I've never tasted it.
Cześć - "Hello" in Polish; used a lot on the phone.
Seimas – Lithuanian parliament

Some more interesting things will be coming up in the next chapter. Poor Poland's gonna freak out. (Even more than he has right now.) ;D I hope you all liked it.