Whenever England was sick, things went into a cycle.
On the first day, America would wake up next to his lover, and instantly sense that something was wrong. His cute Brit would be flushed with signs of a fever, burrowed deeply into the blankets. His breaths would come out in short gasps, with his green eyes closed tightly. America would instantly feel the others forehead, which would cause England to wake up.
"Babe, you're sick," America would tell him softly.
"No, m'not!" England would whimper back, but curl up further. Of course this was a lie, a very obvious lie. America would chuckle slightly, and then smile and kiss his partner's cheek. Then he would get out of the warm and comfortable bed and heads towards the kitchen.
America would go into complete "nurse mode" after that. He would put on the kettle, because of course England would need tea, especially if he had a sore throat or headache. After that he would put in some toaster waffles for himself, and then make toast for England. Once he had wolfed down his waffles, he'd load the toast and tea onto a tray and make his way back to the bedroom.
On the way back, America would stop and retrieve some things, like a thermometer, tissues, a cool cloth, ect. By the time he made it back, England would of course be fast asleep again.
"Iggy baby, wake up. Tell me where it hurts." America cooed gently to his sleeping partner. England shifted and groaned, attempting to turn back into the pillows. America held him still in order to wake him up, causing England to whine but eventually blink his bleary eyes open.
"My throat...stomach...head...I feel weak," He answered America back, voice hoarse and raw from the sickness.
"It sounds like the flu," America decided to himself out loud. "It is the flu season after all...Don't worry Artie, we'll get you all better soon."
On the second day, things would stay mostly calm. Since England was really too sick to move, he would stay in the bedroom, wrapped up in blankets. Next to him on the nightstand there would be tissues, a glass of water, and a book in case England felt well enough to read. That of course usually wasn't the case, because England would spend most of the day sleeping while his body fought the illness. He only awoke when America gave him medicine and checked his temp, or when he needed to use the bathroom.
America of course, would be with him all day, laying in the bed next to him. When England slept he played with his iPod, when England became coherent he soothed him, and tied to get him to drink fluids. The American could never resist a grin whenever the sickly nation cuddled close to him, seeking warmth and comfort.
Yes, it was always why America enjoyed the second day of the England-Sick-Cycle the most. This was the period where the Brit would be the most cuddliest, and too tired to be cranky with him. No, the crankiness would come later. For now his lover would be meek and quiet. America would take pictures of England on his phone while the other slept, and he would also text Canada and France to update them on how England was.
America dropped his phone in mid text upon feeling England let go of him and sit up, eyes wide with fear as he clutched at his stomach. Knowing what was coming, America quickly reached for the plastic basin and held it under England's chin. The Englishman threw up noisily into it, his shoulders shaking with fear and exhaustion. Of course being the hero, Alfred rubbed his back and whispered sweet nothings into his ear.
When it was all over, He tucked England back in and replaced the wet washcloth on his head. Before he could get up to go clean out the basin, England's hand's clutched at his sweatshirt sleeve.
"T-thank you," He whispered. "I love you."
On the third day, England would be a little more active. He'd feel well enough to sit up in bed for a few hours and read a book, still snuggling up against America of course. He would feel a little more content as his eyes scanned over the pages, especially whenever America stroked his sweaty hair and planted random little kisses on his cheeks and forehead.
Sometimes, since he was still pretty exhausted with sickness, England would have to close his eyes and take random naps throughout the day. His appetite would be a bit better, and he would even be able to down some toast (with no butter) and eggs without throwing up. America would then decide that England was well enough to have a bath. After all, there was no better feeling than feeling clean, especially when you're skin was covered in sweat from a fever, which by now was almost gone.
England would of course enjoy the bath immensely. He'd sigh in content at the feeling of Alfred's gentle fingers washing his hair, and the feeling of all the dirt and sweat melting from his body was a huge relief. England, growing a little back into his stubborn self, of course insisted to wash his own body. So while he did that, Alfred would go change the bedsheets and pick out a fresh clean pair of pajamas for the Englishman.
"There we go, all dry," America exclaimed cheerfully once he was done towel drying England's hair. He then helped the other nation into a new t-shirt and some sweatpants. England nodded in thanks and stood up, but wobbled slightly from the weak feeling in his legs. America swooped him up bridal style before the Brit could even react, and brought him back to the bedroom.
England felt amazing, well, as amazing as a person with the flu could feel. Being tucked back into fresh sheets while wearing new pajamas really did wonders. The bath had made him sleepy though, so it only took a matter of seconds before he went back into dreamland.
On the fourth day England would feel well enough to change locations. America would set him up on the sofa downstairs, knowing that a change of scenery would probably make his partner feel a bit better. Now the "cranky" stage came in. It wasn't the Englishman's usual crankiness. No, this kind was a bit different. Instead of yelling and shouting like normally, he would pout and complain about still being sick. America would laugh and turn on the television in hopes of keeping England a little more entertained. After all, America still would have much paperwork to do, since he'd put it off for so long.
"I bloody well hate being sick..." England would mutter irritably every few minutes.
"I know babe," America comforted him. "If I could make it all go away I would. You know that, right?"
If only a hero had the power to defeat germs...
"How does it taste?" America asked. He'd made England some chicken noodle soup. Just now England had taken the first bite. He licked his lips and took another spoonful.
"It's...not bad," He replied, but it was obvious that the soup tasted wonderful to the Brit. America leaned forward and kissed his nose.
The fifth and sixth day would be much like the fourth, with the only difference being England growing more and more healthy by the hour. America would sense that his sweetheart was almost all the way better. Come tomorrow morning everything would probably be back to normal for the most part.
England would argue with him about random things, and insist upon sitting outside on the porch to do a little needlework. America would make them both a nice big lunch of burgers, chips, and veggies. He would bring the food outside and encourage England to eat all of his burger. After all, he needed to get his strength back. In America's opinion England was already too skinny to begin with, and it didn't help that whenever he was sick the lack of appetite would make him loose weight.
the Brit would roll his eyes and say how much he disliked burgers, but then he would attempt to eat most of it despite his words.
"Um...America?" England asked a little hesitantly.
"What is it Iggs? Are you feeling okay? What's wrong?" America responded instantly. England had no choice but to be amused.
"I just wanted to thank you. I mean really...I don't know what I'd do without you," He said, feeling his cheeks blush deeply. America, relieved at the fact that nothing was wrong with his lover, grinned.
"No problem dude, you know I'm your hero!"
On the seventh day, everything was back to normal. The cycle was over...for now.
But come next year during the flu season, the cycle would start all over again.
The end
^J^
a/n: I was feeling in a...fluffy mood, and this is the result of it. I usually ship FrUk, but I was just in one of those UsUk moods I suppose. Anyways, I hope this isn't a complete disaster.
It would just totally make my day if you reviewed. Please let me know if this story was worth reading, cause I'm not completely sure if it's good or not. To tell you the truth I was nervous about posting it...
Anyways, have a good Veterans day weekend guys!
Thank you to all those who have served our nation!