England was sitting on his chair in the meeting room and feeling miserable. He had been sick in the morning and skipped breakfast because of that. But now he regretted it. The meeting was stretching all morning and it was lunch time now and his stomach was demanding to be filled. If only his fellow nations could just call it quits and they could go eat.

The green eyed nation looked to his side on a bored French nation. The same French, that he was dating for a few months now, more or less openly, but he didn't look at him. He was too busy making ships out of blank papers. Not very mature, but still better than to listen to the gibberish, his "little brother" America calls report.

England looked at the table before him, in desperate attempt to fight back the nausea that was coming on him again. Damn it, it was some time he felt this bad. He had been throwing up for three days now, but his economy was fine. There wasn't even epidemic going about, hell it wasn't even flu season. There wasn't a credible reason for him to feel sick. And the last time he was felt without any apparent reason was… when he was pregnant.

Suddenly England felt his mouth go dry. Actually whole throat felt dry and scratchy. With a shaking hand he reached for his water bottle and drank it all in one long swig. But even that wasn't enough. The whole room felt hot and uncomfortable. He couldn't be pregnant, could he? England wasn't sure if he could pull through that again.

The English nation didn't even notice he was shaking, until a hand reached under the table and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Surprised England looked up and saw France looking at him worriedly. "Are you okay, Angleterre?" he asked in whisper. England nodded, "Yeah, fine…" France looked like he didn't believe him, but then he shrugged. He could still ask him after the meeting.

England was about to go back to staring at the table when he heard America say: "So everyone should send me their money, so I can build a giant robot to protect the Earth." He had to be kidding. That is such a stupid Idea. England abruptly stood up and slammed his hands on the table. "That bloody stupid!" he yelled at the younger nation.

America frowned and they immediately started to fight among each other, leaving other to roll their eyes and sigh. It wasn't an unusual sight. And France will probably join them too. And then Germany would yell again. Why couldn't they act more civilized? Could they get past America's speech some time? It certainly didn't seem so.

"You are just jealous, because I'm right," America shouted. England's face got red, "As if, you bloody…." Suddenly he cut off the line of curses everyone was sure he would throw at the American nation. "Iggy?" America asked uncertainly, only now noticing that the older nation seemed paler than usual, only to see his eyes roll back and fall down to the floor.

Immediately hell broke out. Several nations cried out, from which everyone could recognize France's and America's shouts: "Iggy!" "Angleterre!" France was immediately by his lover's side, with some nations right behind. "AMERIQUE, WHAZ DIZ YOU DO?" he asked, his French accent more obvious. "I didn't do anything," America argued, "I swear." France wanted to snap something back at him, but England was more important right now.

France picked England up bridal style and carried him through all the confused nations, which cleared a path for him. Nobody noticed Ireland close his cell phone with slightly worried face.