You ever wonder how it feels for a nation to be in a civil war or revolution against itself, well, France never wanted to know, but now, he had to. The French Revolution had begun, and he had never been in such pain before in his life, ever.
Imagine that your body is on fire, and you have rats crawling around the inside of your body, and then, your body is on one of those midevil stretchers they used for tourture, and you you are also being hit over the head with a hammer. That was how France had felt for almost a month now. It hurt like hell, God, it hurt worse than the 100 years war, or all the times Paris burned down. Oh, so much worse.
It was so bad France could not move or keep food down. He was pale and thin, his usually glorious hair was all tangled and thin, splitting at the ends, but Francis didn't have the energy to care. He was starting to see his ribs from how little food he ate. Maybe this weekend pay back for helping America for his revolution, and betraying his...not really lover, but they also weren't friends with benefits, but they did have tons of sex and two kids (Canada and America, duh).
He groaned in psin, laying back on his bed. His throat was scratched raw, and he had almost no voicr left, or mobility really.
He heard a knock at his door and managed to tell the person that they could come in. He was expecting it to be some doctor or such, but instead, he had a rather sexy nurse, England. Ah, so much better than a boring doctor!
"Ah, Mon cheire, come to see moi?" He said, before coughing. England frowned and walked over, sitting beside him on a stool.
"Well, no. I didn't come to see you, you git. I only came to make sure your better because only I am allowed to destroy you." He said handing him some tea. France took it and sipped lightly on it.
"That should help keep your food down." Arthur said, looking at him. .
"Don't tell me this tea is a poison or potion." Francis said, now concerned.
"It's a potion yes, but I am not drugging you, not today." He said, bending down to kiss Francis's temple. Francis smiled weakly and looked Arthur over.
Arthur had significantly wider hips then he did 300 years ago, of course, kids do that to mother's and he had a bit of pudge from the babies that never left, even through the centuries. France was sure he still had a stretch mark or two still on his body. It only added to his beauty though, at least to France.
Francis finished his tea and Arthur smiled softly and set the cup aside.
"Go ahead and rest my darling, I want to be able to absolutely crush you." He said, kissing his forehead, reaching to pull the covers up, jumping a bit when Francis wrapped his arms around him and pulled him down.
"What do you think your doing you bloody frog?!" Arthur asked, startled.
"I sleep better with Mon Cherie close.' he said, kissing England's neck.
Arthur huffed but allowed it as Francis fell asleep, letting out small snores. He turned to him and cuddled up, deciding to just let it happen, he could wait to destroy him, after all, Francis had to get better. This was 100% for medical purposes and was in no way romantic.