Canada/ Matthew POV

I groan when I sit up in my bed. My alarm clock blaring. I reach over and slam my hand against the shiny red machine. Aaaaaachoo. Crap. I'm sick. There is No, way Papa, Dad, or hell even Alfred will let me go to the world meeting if they find out I'm sick. I slip out of bed feeling a bit dizzy when I stood up. I grabbed the foot of my bed trying to keep my balance. I look towards my nice warm bed. I jealous of kumujero (I think I spelt that right) he gets to stay in bed all day unless I bring him with me. I wasn't planning on it but, I might do it now just out of spite.

I slowly move towards my closet for clothes to change into. I pull out some sweatpants, my canada sweatshirt, and a black undershirt. I decide against a shower. I slowly walk to my bathroom. I might have well been crawling. My feet were dragging across the floor with each step. I look into the mirror. My purple-blue eyes are dulled down, my face is pale aside from my feverish cheeks.

Maybe I should take a shower my blond wavy hair is sticking to the side of my face. How can I be sweating? I was freezing all night. I give a shiver again as I lift my shirt off so I can change my close. I once again decide against the shower. No, one really notices me any ways.

I pull the sweatshirt down. It's just long enough to go past my butt. I walk into the kitchen a little faster than before. Maybe I'll be fine. I start up the stove so I can start on my pancakes. It slowly dump the batter into the pan. I nod off a bit. I jump off when my hand touches the heated up pan.

The burning sensation stop a bit as I run it under the cold water. I finish up my pancakes with one hand. I'm left handed and that was the one that was burnt. I finally sit down to eat only to have my stomach turn at the sight of my food.

I run to my bathroom worsening my symptoms. I don't make it and throw up all over the bathroom floor. I can't let it sit there so I go through a long disgusting process of cleaning it up. I look at the clock. I probably should have left 5 minutes ago. I grab my jacket and start walking to the car.

Forgetting about my hand I grab the steering wheel. I yelp out in pain pulling my hand back. Maybe I should just call a taxi. No, I don't want to throw up everywhere. I grab it with my other hand. I just need to drive slow to avoid an accident.

After a painstaking drive to the meeting I'm 15 minutes late. I still tudge inside not bothering to run.I open the door and enter. No one noticed or so I thought. I sat down against my better judgement next to America.

I sit down and he is shouting something about a railroad to the center of the Earth for a tourist attraction. Everyone shoot the idea down immediately. His yelling only makes my head ache hurt. I groan in pain and he quiets down and looks at me.

The other countries look over as well at is sudden stop. I think only a few noticed me but, I was uncovertebral under there stares. to distract them Alfie starts up again. I think they're on to me because Papa and Dad's eyes haven't left me.

I lean back and close my eyes. My head aches like a just slammed it into a concrete wall.

"I think it's about time we take a break," Germany's voice booms through my head. A open my eyes the light burning a little. I head for the door hoping to get a few minutes of sleep.

I leave the room but I'm immediately picked up. I let out a little yell. I look at my captor. "Papa let me down,"I say with my soft voice. "Your sick," he retaliates. I see dad and my twin standing by us with their arms crossed.

They can forget about me any other day but, as soon as I'm sick or hurt I become their world. Even my extremely self centered brother. "I'm fine, it's just a cough," I try to convince them. "If your idea of a cough is looking deathly ill," England says. "Dude you could have called one of us to take care of you. Or at the very least stay home," America says.

I cough again still in France's arms. He pats my back in a comforting way. "Fine, i'll go home," I try to jump from him arms. His grip tightens, "Mon petit, we are going to take care of you at zee house." I look at the others eyes looking for a sudden change of side but, they both nod. "Hey Iggy, I'm going to go tell the german dude we are leaving," America said sealing my fate.

Still holding me France walks to the car. He sets me down in the back seat. England is in front on me in the passenger seat. America comes running up. "My guess is zat he wasn't very appy about us leaving," France inquires. "Naw dude I left a note in his spot." America jumps in back. "Could you quiet down a bit Alfie my head hurts," I ask. If they want to take care of me they can be a bit quieter.

"Yeah Matty, I can be quiet," he says surprisingly quieter. Dad turns around and touches my forehead. "We need to stop and get some medicine to reduce his fever," England says. I feel like such a little kid. "Anyzing else," Frances asks England. "He look a little nauseous so pepto bismol, tylenol for his headache, and some light foods."

"Hey Matty how are you feeling," Alfred speaks up probably noticing my discomfort. "I'm kind of cold," I answer honestly. He leans over and unbuckles me. He pulled me to the middle seat loosely buckling me. He pulls me as far as the seat belt will let me onto his lap.

I snuggle in appreciating the warmth and feel my eyes shut. I hear all three of them coo at my position. I don't really care and drift off. I wake up and France is carrying me again. I look around and see my thumb in my mouth. I quickly pull it out and rub the spit off on my jeans. I feel them all give a little smirk.

We get in the house and France sits on the couch with me still in his arms. I try to sit down next to him but, before I could England and America sit down each on one side. I still try to stand up and go sit in the chair. He wraps his arms around my waist. The pressure makes me feel nauseous.

"Calm down Matthew he is just cuddling with you," England say. I quickly respond with a small, "I'm going to be sick." Papa quickly lets go and I sprint to the bathroom making the toilet this time. I'm dry heaving when I feel to hands on my back. I can tell the small fatherly hand is dad and the other is Alfred. I can tell because he wasn't so gentle not used to this kind of thing.

I'm sorry Mathieu, I didn't known holding you there would have these consequences," papa apologizes from the doorway. I get up and hug him, "It's okay Papa I never get to see you so it was nice."

"Let's go sit in the living room shall we. Alfred let Matthew and Papa have the couch," England announces to early breaking the mood. I start walking once again startled to be picked up by Papa. I'm starting to think it's more for his benefit to my own. What ever it is I don't struggle this time.

We get into the living room and Alfred starts talking, "I wish we weren't together because Matty is sick. It seems the only time all 4 of us are together it's a world meeting or a party." I nod along with him. "It's just I'm so busy all the time," England says. "Busy drinking," France fails at cracking a joke. "NO, busy with work you frog," dad retaliates. "At least he's not a pervert," Alfred joins in. "I'm not a pervert you hambugair face stuffin idiot. I just believe in love. I'm not the one who zinks we could build a railroad to the center of the earth you idiot," France comes back. "He's got the idiot part right and immature," Dad once again comes back.

I should have known they would start this again. They always fight. I'm so upset I don't notice the tears running down my face. I let out the sob I was holding in. They all went quiet. "Oh Matty we're sorry we were doing it again," Alfred apologizes first knowing what it's like. "We're sorry too mon petit Matthew."

They all coddle around me. I sigh in content. I'm whelmed. Maybe being taken care of won't we so bad.

See you next time

Same matt-place

Same Matt-channel

Mon petit- my little

Papa- daddy or dad