Full Summary: This is just going to be various one shots of England falling sick, and other random nations taking care of him. Feel free to request nations for the next chapter! I know I'm always mean to poor Arthur in all my other fics, but it's just so fun making him vulnerable! Anyway, enjoy it!

One: Francis Takes care of Arthur

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in London. Children were running about the streets, jumping rope and playing hopscotch. Most adults had the day off and were spending their time outside reading, or having family outings. Yes, it was a very pleasant day. Only for some people.

Unfortunately Arthur Kirkland, otherwise known as England, was in no shape to be frolicking about outdoors. Instead he was wrapped up in blankets on the sofa sniffling miserably, and coughing through every chill. The normally neat and proper Brit was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, his face flushed with fever and his hair disheveled. While England was experiencing one of the nicest days that year, it's own country personification wasn't able to enjoy it. Yes, Arthur had lamentably come down with the flu.

Of course he was miserable, why wouldn't he be? His boss had called last night and had given him the week off to enjoy the sunshine. Arthur had been extremely happy, already mentally making plans on what he would do with his free time out in the sun. Then in the middle of the night he had awoken feeling terribly nauseous, and had spent the next four hours curled up on the bathroom floor. He had hoped that it was just a twenty four hour stomach flu, but this didn't seem to be the case.

To make matters completely worse, today had also been the day that Francis Bonnefoy had decided to randomly drop by and visit. He had let himself into Arthur's home, calling out teasingly that this was the first sunny day in years. Then Francis had caught site of the sick country who had been shakily trying to make himself tea. He had freaked out, grabbing Arthur and ushering him to the sofa, muttering to himself about a thermometer and tissues.

So here he was, confined to the couch, and with the only company source or a frog. He had to admit, it was nice when he and Francis weren't actually at each others throats all the time. He was too sick to insult Francis, and the French nation himself was taking advantage of coddling Arthur to think of any jeers. It was also slightly annoying as well, seeing as Francis didn't allow him to lift so much as a foot from the sofa. Thank god he didn't need to use the bathroom yet. Instead he curled up in the blankets further, burying his face into his hands.

"I made you some soup Angle- what's wrong? Is your headache worse? How does your throat feel?" Francis asked, setting aside the tray that he was carrying and rushing over to his aide.

"Nothings wrong" Arthur muttered, giving a sneeze. "I just wish I could actually enjoy the good weather."

"I'm sorry mon cher. Would you like for me to open a few windows to let in some nice air?" Francis offered.

"Yes please." Arthur said, closing his eyes and sighing in content as he felt the warm air blow in once the windows were open. He could hear the birds chattering, and the laughing voices of children from the street.

"Don't worry, I'm sure there will be other nice days eventually." Francis said, running his fingers through Arthur's hair once. He smiled to himself at the Englishman's messy hair. It truly never could be tamed.

"I know. It still doesn't make it any better." Arthur replied glumly.

"Why don't you come to Paris sometime? We ave plenty of nice days." Francis offered.

"Yeah bloody right" Arthur scoffed. "I would never travel to your country just for nice weather."

"How does next week sound?" Francis asked.

"...Fine. But you better have the guest room ready." Arthur said quickly.

"Of course mon cher, of course."

Two: Alfred takes care of Arthur

During the winter in mind December, Alfred F. Jones always stayed at his vacation house in Maine. Everything was so beautiful in that state. The snow covered bare trees, the beautiful countryside...all of it was amazing to look at. Maine was such a relaxed state, and it was a good place to go to whenever he was sick of work. He had a small cozy house in that state, which was exactly where he currently staying at that exact moment. This time though, Alfred wasn't completely alone in his house.

He had invited Arthur to come visit. Over the phone the Brit had sounded so stressed out, and Alfred knew that a little mini vacation to Maine would fix him right up. Surprisingly the Englishman had agreed, much to Alfred's excitement. However, when he had gone to the airport to meet Arthur, Alfred was in for a shock. Arthur had come over to greet him as usual, but there was a huge difference! He was a lot paler than normal, and he swayed on his feet so violently that Alfred was afraid he'd fall over.

"Dude, you didn't tell me you were sick!" Alfred said accusingly. Arthur looked in no state to travel whatsoever. Of course Arthur had just rolled his eyes and responded with, "It's just a little cold, I'm fine!"

The 'little cold' turned out to be pneumonia! They had found that out the hard way, when Arthur developed a fever of 105. Alfred had rushed him to the hospital, much to Arthur's distaste. After being prescribed some antibiotics, Arthur was then lucky enough to avoid hospitalization. Alfred would be taking care of him instead.

So here he was now, laying on Alfred's couch with his head in the American's lap, unable to go even five minutes without coughing. Alfred was doing all he could to make him comfortable. The electric fire was running, and Arthur was in a comfy pair of Alfred's pj's, wrapped in a afghan blanket. The Tv was playing softly in the background, and Alfred was slowly running his fingers through Arthur's hair in a soothing gesture. All Arthur could think of was how good Alfred's fingers felt, and how much this illness sucked.

Suddenly Arthur's eyes widened and he struggled to sit up, coughing violently into his hands while trying to gasp for breath. Alfred helped him sit up all the way and patted his back to loosen up the mucus in his lungs. Arthur couldn't contain a small whimper as his coughing finally ceased. He collapsed back against Alfred's chest once again, and Alfred finally lowered them both back onto the couch with Arthur laying on top of him.

"I hate being sick..." Arthur muttered, giving another small cough as he closed his eyes. Alfred's hand moved to comb through the sickly nations hair once again, and he nuzzled his nose into Arthur's warm neck.

"I know Iggy. It's okay, you'll be alright. The Doc said you'll start feeling better in about a week. We just gotta let the medicine do it's job." He whispered back reassuringly.

"Mmmm...I h-hope your right." Arthur said, turning his head into Alfred's chest more. He had to admit, the superpower was very warm, and it helped to lessen his chills a lot.

"Of course I'm right!" Alfred said confidently, pulling Arthur tighter against him. "I am the hero after all, and hero's are always right."

"Sure..." Arthur murmured, not even really paying attention to what Alfred was saying. He was much to sleepy to listen anyway. Alfred noticed the tiredness in Arthur voice and smiled.

"Go to sleep Artie, you'll feel better when you wake up." He said.

His words weren't heard however, for Arthur was already asleep.

Three: Kiku takes care of Arthur

Arthur was feeling very embarrassed with himself. You see, right now he was at Japan's house. Kiku had invited him over for tea and some sight seeing. Of course Arthur had agreed, since Kiku was one of his most closest and sensible friends. Heck, he had been pretty excited.

That excitement didn't last very long though. Upon arriving, Arthur's stomach didn't feel too well, nor did his head. He had just dismissed it was the long flight, and mustered up a smile to greet the Japanese nation with. Unknowingly to Arthur, Kiku could sense that something was wrong. He just wasn't sure exactly what.

Lunchtime had been where the trouble emerged. Kiku had made rice balls for them to eat. Upon seeing and smelling the white rice, Arthur felt his stomach feel even worse. Yes, he definitely had to throw up. He didn't speak up though, and tried to swallow down the waves of nausea as they passed. He just couldn't get up and run to the bathroom, because he know that if he even dared move so much as an inch then he would vomit all over the place.

"Arthur-san, are the rice balls okay? You've hardly touched your lunch." Kiku said with concern. Perhaps he had messed up with the food. His own rice balls tasted okay, but he knew that Arthur normally enjoyed his food. Something wasn't right.

"T-they taste very good K-Kiku." Arthur choked out, horrified that he was being to rude to his host by not touching the food. To try and make Kiku feel better, he picked up one of the rice balls and sunk his teeth into it.

Big mistake!

Before Arthur could even sense what was happening, Arthur was taken over by a wave if dizziness as he lost his stomach contents, throwing up all over the table and floor. As he threw up violently, Arthur was vaguely aware of a hand rubbing soothing circles against his back. Once he finished, it dawned on Arthur. He had just thrown up all over Kiku's table and floor! He was a horrible person! For a moment there was silence, before Arthur felt two arms lifting him up.

"Come on Arthur-san, you need to lie down." Kiku said calmly. Arthur couldn't believe that the Japanese nation didn't seem angry at him. He was led into the bedroom, and tucked into a large king sized bed (Alfred had insisted that Kiku get one, despite how much Kiku preferred to sleep on futons).

"I'll make you some tea" Kiku said, and left the room. Arthur could only stare up at the ceiling in remorse. Why did he always have to fall sick at the most inconvenient times? A few minutes later Kiku returned with a cup of traditional Japanese herbal tea, as well as a rubbish bin in case Arthur needed to throw up again. "Here, this will settle your stomach hopefully." Kiku told him, passing Arthur the tea.

"Thank you Kiku" Arthur said quietly, taking a small sip of the tea. He was glad that it washed out the nasty bitter taste in his mouth. "I honestly don't know what's wrong with me...I always get sick at the most inconvenient times."

"It's alright, it happens to the best of us." Kiku said comfortingly. "I remember once I fell sick when China-san was visiting. It was terribly embarrassing."

"Oh, I can imagine that it must have." Arthur responded, feeling a little bit better that he wasn't alone in this.

"I am sure that you will be better soon. I believe that sleep would be best though. I'll leave you to rest for awhile. Have a good sleep, Arthur-san." Kiku said, walking out of the room and quietly closing the door behind him. Arthur took a few more sips of tea, smiling at the fact that it was actually helping with both his stomach and his headache. He said back into the soft bed and sighed on content.

He may always get sick, but at least each time he never has to suffer through it alone.

a/n: Well, I better go work on my other stories now. Feel free to request other nations taking care of poor England!