Scarlet Fever

By Robin Gurl

(so I'm not sure if I should even continue this...if people want me to I can..*scratches head* ..yeh. This is my head canon on how the twins had to get glasses. Not FrUk unless you just want it to be.)

Disclaimer: Own nothing.

"Stop running in the house, you know better." France exclaimed his hands on his hips as he walked in from the kitchen looking quite perturbed. "You both are old enough to follow the rules of this house."

"Aw but, papa it's raining outside!" Alfred exclaimed gesturing to the stormy weather outside as if that were going to help his case any. His twin brother hid behind him clutching his white bear in his arms. "We weren't hurtin' anything!"

"Except threatening to break your father's priceless vase into pieces, oui?"

Alfred blushed bright red, "T..That was just a …a near accident."

Suddenly Matthew spoke up, "But if Father doesn't want it broken why put it out so someone can accidently knock it over, papa?"

France's eyes widened and he chuckled shaking his head, he had no response to that other than to walk over and ruffle the shoulder length blonde hair. He knelt down and pulled the boys close still trying to stifle his laughter. After all they still had broken the rules, even if Matthew's logic was near perfection. "Between you two and me, I'm not sure why Angleterre keeps priceless things out in the open."

He then stood up ruffling each head of hair lovingly, "Alright, you two can play just keep quiet and if Arthur comes in try to look like you behaved while he was gone, oui?" As he walked back towards the kitchen he turned back around to see they'd started chasing one another again, this time because Alfred had stolen Matthew's bear. However as Alfred ran past him he noticed sweat was running down the small cheek. He shrugged it off figuring it was just the humidity in the air, after all they were at the edge of Canada and America, so weather was bound to affect them differently.

"Alfred, give him back!" Matthew cried out nearly in tears. His brother was just an inch taller than him making it nearly impossible to grab his bear back. Kumajiro was hanging in the air and looked as if he was going to be dropped. His heart raced as he leapt in the air again trying to reach the stuffed toy. "Alfred! PLEASE!" He felt tears run down his cheeks and as he landed he wiped them away unfazed, they felt cool across his heated cheek. His hair was sweaty but he figured it was just because they'd been chasing one another.

"Nuh- uh! Ya gotta catch me first!" Alfred said glaring as he held up the bear on purpose too high for Matthew to reach and started to run around the couch. "Mattie, you're so short!" Instead of getting tackled from behind he heard a soft thump and then the room went silent. He stopped and turned around expecting for Matthew to start crying because he'd tripped and fallen again. Instead his twin was on his knees panting, "Mattie…?"

Matthew lifted his head weakly sweat running down the side of his face, "I..I want papa…"

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"I..I don't know…Alfred please…get papa!"

Alfred dropped the bear wide eyed and backed up before running into the kitchen. Just as he got in and stepped on the tile floor his vision started to blur. He reached out to grab his father's shirt but his socked feet slipped on the tile floor, his fingers missing the shirt by centimeters. He crashed to the floor tears welling in his eyes, that fall had hurt a lot worse than it usually did.

"Mon Dieu!" France exclaimed turning around just in time to witness the spill. He sat the spoon down and turned the pot on low before kneeling in front of the young country, "I thought I warned you not ten minutes ago not to run in the house. Are you alright?"

Alfred glanced up and nodded slowly, "Something's wrong with Mattie."

"What?" The adult asked. "Did he take another tumble?"

"I ..I don't know…" He started fearfully sitting up on his knees. He felt so hot all of a sudden. Like he'd run outside during the summer on the hottest days right after he had eaten. His stomach hurt and his head was foggy. "Papa, I..don't…fe..feel good." Tears slipped down his cheeks as he tried to contain his pain.

Just as he was gathering Alfred into his arms, he heard a wail from the other room. "Matthew, ce qui ne va?" He called out standing with the shivering bundle in his arms.

It was a few seconds later that he heard a weak response, "Papa …je ..je…me sens…sens..malade."

Worried he walked into the foyer and into the living room not knowing what to expect. The twin in his arms had gone completely silent only sniffling into his shoulder. That on it's own was cause to worry. On the floor lay Matthew panting out of breath his eyes out of focus. "Mon Dieu, what is going on here?"

Weakly Matthew turned his head to try and look at France. He didn't say anything but his hands clenched into the carpet weakly and he coughed, his eyes closing slightly before fluttering back open.

France swallowed hard trying to think through this rationally. Trying to quell his panic he walked over to the couch and tried to lay Alfred down on it. However, the American clung to his neck crying out, "Papa please don't! The monsters will get me!"

The monsters? He looked over Alfred's shoulder and saw nothing but a comfortable couch for the boy to lay on. "There is nothing there, mon cher."

"There is! Please don't let it eat me!" Alfred shouted sobbing into his Papa's chest. "I promise I'll be good..I won't knock over a vase anymore…just don't let them eat me."

"Alfred, calm down, un jeune." He said soothingly rubbing the small back. "I'll take you back to your fathers room then, it's safe." Quickly he tried to think of a reason why, Arthur would kill him if he heard it but if it soothed the hysteria then why not. "Remember how your father likes to do magic? He puts a spell on his room so no monsters can get in or out."

Alfred's tears stopped and he sniffled, "R..Really?"

"Oui." France responded with as serious of a tone as he could muster. He walked into the giant master bed room flicking the lights on with his elbow. He then walked the distance to the bed and laid the boy down on it. "Can you stay here while I go get Matthew?" He sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Alfred's eyes grew wide.

"Father! You're here!"

France twirled around expecting to see Britain in the door way with a perturbed worried look on his face. If he were there he was no doubt carrying Matthew in his arms. When he did turn to the door though there was no Britain. There was no one. "Mon cher, Britain isn't home yet." He stroked the sweaty blonde hair gently.

"But he is! He's right here!" Alfred said pointing to the giant king sized pillow near the head of the bed.

France watched horrified as Alfred crawled up to the pillow and placed his head on it smiling weakly. In less than 10 minutes both twins had caught some sort of fever and now …now Alfred was delirious and seeing things. He stood up off the bed and tried to contain his fear again, "Alright then stay…stay here with Father, I'll be back with Matthew, oui?"

"Ok.." Alfred said breathlessly. He heard France leave but didn't care anymore now that his father was here. He snuggled deeper into Britain's lap and turned on his side trying to see what his father was reading. "A..Are you reading history again?"

Britain didn't respond to him and so he tried again, "I promise I didn't break your vase, please re..read some history to me?" He asked again tears welling up in his eyes as "Britain" seemed to ignore him. "I..I was a good boy..jus..just like you made me promise…I promise..I..I even took care of Mattie…" Tears streamed down his cheeks now in a steady stream and he reached up to grab "Britain's" sweater vest but got nothing but pillow. The image of Britain disappeared and he sat up, feverishly trying to piece everything together.

"F..Father…don't leave ..me.."

Britain sighed walking up the hidden driveway, clutching the briefcase under his arm so he could unfold the newspaper he'd picked up while he was in town. He stopped in front of the house and saw the twins weren't outside, he sighed in relief. He had not been looking forward to trying to make Alfred take a bath because he'd gotten muddy from the sudden rain storm earlier.

However something was wrong and he couldn't figure out what. He picked his pace up just a little bit and closed the newspaper as he climbed the plantation stairs. As he approached the front door he smelt something that almost smelled like burnt soup. His eyes narrowed with worry, France had never burned any food, not once in the centuries he'd known him. Something was dreadfully wrong.

He reached forward and turned the door knob pushing the wooden door open to reveal utter chaos. It wasn't the usual chaos either, "France?" He asked walking into the kitchen wrinkling his nose when he saw black smoke billowing out of the giant stew pot. He reached forward and turned the stove off then opened the kitchen windows to let it air out. "France? Alfred? Matthew?"

He got no response and walked into the foyer down past the den into the giant hallway. He heard hiccupping sobs come from the end of it then heard a wail from the living room. His eyes widened as he was torn which way to go first and more importantly where the hell was France?

He started to get worried that France might have been hurt while watching the twins, he went to the den first since it was the closest and let out an angry sigh of relief when he saw France hovering over one of the twins in the corner. Matthew's screams pierced through his ears and he winced at how high they were. "GET AWAY YOU'RE SCARY!"

France backed away slowly his hands up in defeat, "Mon cher, it's me, your papa! I'm not a monster!"

If had been any other situation he would have laughed his ass off at France's failed attempt at parenting. However, the Frenchman looked geniunly upset so he walked forward, "Matthew, it's Arthur."

"Fath..Father?" Matthew's eyes widened and more tears spilled out as he ran past France and right into Britain's arms. He clung sobbing, "H..He ..it..it killed…it killed Alfred."

"What did?"

"Th..The monster…"

Britain looked to France who just shrugged in return, the other man really did look exhausted. "Matthew, the monster is gone, he's not here anymore." He said instead of trying to tell the boy there wasn't one. Now he just had to find Alfred. "I bet Alfred is alive, lad, let's go find him." As he held the small boy in his arms he noticed how feverish he was.

"Angletterre, he's in your room." France said quietly still obviously upset of what had just happened.

Silently Britain walked down the hallway to see a light shining from his room. He entered and saw a small figure sobbing his knees to his chest, "There, see your brother is just fine."

Matthew lifted his head weakly, his grip around Britain's neck tightened. He just shook his head and sniffled, "I..I want Papa."

France looked relieved that he'd been called for and started to approach the two of them. However Britain stopped him with one glance that told him to calm down for a second.

"Matthew, do you see your papa?"

Slowly the boy lifted his head and looked around the bright room, he stopped on France and smiled weakly, "Oui! I see Papa!"

"That's a good lad," Britain said handing him over to France. After seeing that Matthew was in good hands he hurried over to the bed, "Alfred?" He carefully climbed onto the bed and reached over stroking the unruly blonde hair, "Alfred are you alright?" He saw that Alfred was just as feverish as Matthew was if not worse. "What's wrong?"

The familiar accented voice pierced through his sobs and Alfred lifted his head. The smaller country stared up at Britain a bit confused. "B..But Britain..you..you were right here ..and…and then you left.."

Arthur was still so confused but knew he'd get an explanation from France after they got the twins calmed down. "I'm sorry, lad, I just got home."

"S..So I wasn't a bad boy?"

"What? Of course you weren't." He said soothingly gathering the boy into his arms. "What made you think you were?"

"Yo..You wouldn't read history to me…" Alfred responded in between hiccups and sniffles. He turned slightly and clenched Arthur's sweater vest into his fingers as if he were afraid to let go.

"I'm here, lad, I'm here." He rubbed the small back then turned towards France who was walking over to the bed. He watched as the other country gently undid Matthew's arms from around his neck and laid him on the bed. Arthur tried to follow but realized that Alfred was still too frightened of what didn't happen to let go. However, Alfred did turn around slightly and reach out taking Matthew's hand into his own. Content both twins drifted off into a feverish sleep. Finally able to speak Arthur laid Alfred down beside his brother, "Francis, what happened while I was away?"

"Mon amie, I have no idea. One moment they are playing and rough housing the next Alfred comes running in and falls over but says that something is wrong with Matthew then things went down hill from there."

"It sounds like it hit awfully fast, too quick to be a common cold." Arthur thought aloud.

"Oui, I agree and the deliriousness adds another level of concern. I've never seen them like this before."

"Y..You don't think it's the plague do you?"

"Arthur, do not over think this, it could just be pneumonia."

"Francis do you really think this is the pneumonia?" Britain pressed glaring.

"Why wouldn't it be? They like to play out in the rain and do not put socks on, it's very possible."

"I don't think pneumonia could get this bad this fast." Arthur pressed noticing Alfred's grip on his sweater vest had disappeared, his body had gone limp. He looked over Alfred and glanced down at Matthew, he looked just as limp as his brother did. There was a sort of red rash peaking out on Alfred's chest from the neck of his sweater, he leaned forward to get a better look wondering what the boy had gotten himself into this time. It sort of looked familiar almost like …like his brothers had when they were "They have the Scarlet Fever." He whispered his eyes widening with fear.

After the realization of just how serious the illness was, Arthur had gone around and picked up all the children's toys and placed them into the room with them, he'd shut the windows in his room and closed the curtains lighting a lamp by the bedside.

The twins had awoken a few hours ago barely coherent and scared. Both of them had the tell tale sign of the fever, the rash had taken over their skin. Being young however it was very hard not to scratch the itching bumps. At one time Matthew had burst into tears out of frustration because France had to hold his hands tightly in his own.

Now their hands were wrapped up in hankerchiefs and the fight in their eyes had dulled. Alfred lay on his back, his face turned to one side, his blue eyes glowing feverishly as he watched his father transform the room. At first when he'd woken up the bright light had hurt his eyes, now though the room was nice and not as bright.

One of his hankerchiefed hands reached out and touched his brother's reassuringly. Matthew just whimpered and turned his head towards France, his eyes barely open. France smiled down at him trying to look braver than he felt reaching out to pet the small head and brush the sweaty blonde hair away, "Just rest, mon cher, papa's here."

Arthur sighed from the door eyeing his work. He crossed his arms leaning against the door frame as he wracked his brain for anything else the children might need, "I think I've gotten everything."

"So we are stuck in zis room until they are healed?" France asked looking up wide-eyed.

"We haven't a choice, Francis. Unless we want to burn the entire house down after they are well, we have to stay confined into one room." Arthur sighed again, "It's not that I want to burn my things – honestly, I'm more worried about the twins than anything. I know they are countries, but even colonies can catch their death from diseases and sickness like this."

"Don't say it, Arthur. The boys will be fine. They are strong." France exclaimed a little too loudly. Alfred and Matthew both whimpered and their eyes opened staring up at him with a begging glance. "Iz alright, darlings, just go back to sleep. Papa and Father are here, oui?" He leaned down and stroked the side of Alfred's feverish cheek before doing the same to Matthew. Both children's eyes slowly closed and they drifted back off into a feverish sleep. After the children were taken care of he looked back up, "Do we 'ave food?"

"Yes yes, I didn't bring anything too fancy but we have the fire place in here, the kettle, a few days worth of soup and the sink is accessible in my restroom for water. I also brought you some wine as well as tea for me."

"So we are living off soup until they are well?"

"Do you have any better ideas, France? Because if you do I'd sure like to hear them." Britain's voice sounded scared and it shook, he blinked tears out of his eyes as he walked towards the bed and bent down gathering Alfred in his arms. He led the boy's head to his shoulder and rocked him gently putting his forehead to the boy's shoulder, "…I just…I can't lose them."

Little Alfred whimpered in his sleep, his eyes opening slightly, "F..Father? B..Britain?" He wheezed softly.

"Yes, lad, it's ..it's Britain."

Alfred smiled weakly and wrapped his arms around Britain's neck coughing hoarsely, "Don't leave me. I feel better when you hold me."

"I've got you, Alfred, I'm not letting you go." His voice broke as he said this but this time he didn't try to stop it. He looked back over and saw Francis was looking down at Matthew with a longing look, "Hold the child, Francis, they like it when we hold them, maybe it will calm them down so the fever can drop."

France looked up at him then back down and he nervously reached forward as if afraid to touch Canada. Britain had never seen the other country look so fearful before, "P…Papa iz here, little one." The Frenchman finally said softly leaning down and gathering the small body into his arms. At first Canada didn't respond, his arms swung limply, eyes closed and lips barely open as he let out little wheezes trying to breathe. Then slowly his eyes fluttered open and two dull blue orbs stared up at him. France leaned back into the pillows and cradled his charge close watching as Britain sat down on the floor in one of the corners and held Alfred that way. "What are you doing over there?"

Britain glanced up startled but shook his head, "Many days on a rocking boat with a child who isn't used to the sea," He sighed and stroked Alfred's hair, "We would sit like this for hours until his stomach calmed down."

"Papa," Canada whispered sleepily, "I feel funny.."

"Funny how, mon cher?"

"My throat hurts…a..and my legs ache…my tummy hurts.." Was the weak response.

"I know, darling, just try and sleep."

"No, Father, I'm not hungry." Alfred said crossing his arms and trying to pull away from Britain. Obviously he was too sick to be sitting up and so he fell back into Arthur's arms jostling the soup and making some of it splash onto the bed spread.

"Honestly, Alfred, you've got to be hungry, lad. You 'aven't eaten since this morning at breakfast." Britain tried again to show him the soup but the lad would have nothing of it. Arthur sighed and looked over to Francis to see how he was fairing. To his utter disgust, Canada was eating one small spoonful at a time, too weak to take a full bite he was being fed half of a half of a bite, enough soup to get a taste and just enough to drip into the boy's half open lips. He looked back to Alfred curious as to why Alfred had a random spout of energy, "Enough of this, eat." He forcibly sat Alfred up against the pillows and leaned forward with the spoon, only a little bit in it and sighed holding it up to Alfred's lips. When Alfred didn't open his lips he groaned before reaching forward with his free hand and forced Alfred's mouth open, getting a spoonful in, "You spit that back at me and I don't care how sick you are."

TBC...?