A/N: Hello everyone! Holy smokes, I am soooo SORRY! It took me forever to update. However, I've been working on many story projects so I hope that you will enjoy this story and the others.

I'm actually writing a non-fluff story...my first attempt at a scary/survival story. If you want to check it out it goes by the title, "When the Beast Calls."

Also, a big thanks to my mystery guest and your request/suggestion of a little Ameripan has been noted. (Wink) Another big shout out to DouxAnge for sticking around for another story. I really appreciate the reviews!

Enough of my babbling.. As always I don't own Hetalia. Enjoy.

Chapter 2: Taking Care

It was hours before sunrise when the small blond woke up feeling a little off. Rolling over, he hugged his stuffed polar bear tighter. Across the room his twin was fast asleep, sprawled across the bed and snoring lightly.

Matthew sighed as he pulled his covers tighter around him. Unfortunately, sleep never came back to the boy that night. By the time his adoptive father came to wake them up, Matthew was not only tired but his throat was sore and his left ear was hurting inside.

"Mattie," Alfred said as he pulled his t-shirt on. "Are you okay?"

The younger twin nodded slowly, his usual curly stray strand of hair bobbed with every nod. "Just sleepy," he whispered.

"Well, you better hurry and get dressed or you'll miss breakfast."

Before Matthew could reply, his brother was out the door. Carefully he pulled on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and his favorite hoodie. Luckily, the October weather had been on the more chilly side, so he didn't have to try to explain to either of his parents as to why he was bundled up. Normally he would have just told Francis and Arthur that he wasn't feeling well. But recently the principal had announced that there would be an award for the students who achieved perfect attendance for the entire year.

Matthew wanted that prize and he didn't want to get kicked out of the game this early in the year. He had even made it a point to speak with the principal after the assembly to make sure that the incident at the beginning of the year hadn't affected his chances. Apparently luck was on his side and he had went long enough that day for it to not count against him.

Now he was positive that both of his parents would want him to stay home if they knew exactly how bad he felt. All he had to do was make it through the day and he could return home to rest.

By the time he got downstairs, he could tell that Papa was already suspicious.

"Mon Mathieu, are you feeling well?"

"Oui, Papa. Just a little tired. I didn't sleep very good last night," the eight year old sighed. He took a drink of his milk and nearly lost his composure. His throat burned as the liquid worked its way down to his stomach.

Francis watched him closely. "Are you sure? You look pale, maybe we should check your temperature."

"NON!" Matthew seemed panicked. "Sorry, but I am fine, Papa. I'll feel better once my headache goes away."

The Frenchman nodded and handed his son a children's Tylenol to speed up the process. After the twins finished their cereal, Matthew with a little more struggle that usual, they were whisked off to school.

As they were getting out of the car, Francis kept Alfred back for a moment.

"Mon petit, keep an eye on your brother. If he starts looking any worse or starts acting different tell Madam Honey. I think Mathieu is coming down sick."

Alfred frowned as he watched his twin talking to their friend, Emil. "Okay, Papa." Then a smile spread across his face. "Does that mean I'm a superhero spy?"

"Of course!" The older man told him. "Now if you have to tell Madam Honey about Mathieu and they need to send him home, make sure to tell her to call Dad first. I have a tres important meeting today."

"Yes,sir." Alfred saluted his adoptive father as he scrambled out of the car.

By the time he joined his friends the bell had rang telling all of the students to head to their classrooms. Alfred had decide that he was going to stick close to his twin for the rest of the day.

Lunch time was worse than breakfast for the young child. Now everytime he swallowed it felt like he was being stabbed with a thousand little needles. Even though he had been wearing the hoodie all day, Matthew still felt like he was freezing. The headache hadn't went went away either. Even with the medicine that his parent had given him that morning.

"Mattie," his best friend turned to ask, "Are you not hungry?"

He only replied with a head shake.

"You don't look so good." Emil pointed out.

The kid shrugged and laid his head down on his arms. His eyes were becoming droopy. He didn't want to go home but he really wasn't feeling well. However he was certain that if he asked to leave early then he wouldn't be allowed back the next day. If only he could make it through Friday morning, his attendance would be safe.

After lunch, he was really struggling to keep his mind focused. When we wasn't struggling to stay awake, he was trying to work through the ever increasing pain in his head.

"-thew." A young sweet sounding voice broke into his haziness. "Matthew?"

"Yes, Mrs. Honey," his voice came out scratchy and quiet.

"Would you like to read the next paragraph?"

"Yes, ma'am." Looking down at his book, the words seemed to be moving. "The… the wolf told…" Tears were beginning to well up in Matthew's violet eyes.

Beside him, Alfred stared wide eyed. The older twin raised his hand. "Mrs. Honey, I think Mattie is sick."

"N-non… I-I'm fine." Matthew tried to protest. However, his throat was becoming too sore to even talk.

Their teacher went over and placed a hand on the boy's forehead. "Matthew, you're burning up! Alfred and Emil, would you walk him down to the nurse's office?"

"Yes, ma'am," Emil said.

"Sure," Alfred stood up and tugged on his brother's arm. Matthew tried to resist but he could feel his energy and strength leaving him.

Obediently, he followed his brother and best friend to the nurse's office. By the time they arrived, his tears had spilled over and he was sobbing silently.

As soon as Miss Chapel saw the second graders, she rushed over an help the weak looking boy. They laid him down on the cot that had been set up in the nurse's office. She took his temperature and gasped.

"Emil, thank you for your help. You may go back to class now. Alfred could you stay here for a couple minutes. I need to call your father," the nurse said as she dampened a rag and put it on Matthew's forehead.

"Sure." The blond hopped over to the chair beside Matthew. "Oh, Papa said to call Dad because he has an important meeting and might not be able to get away."

The nurse nodded before she picked up the phone at her desk. After quickly looking up the phone number, she completed the call. "Hello, Mr. Kirkland. This is Miss Chapel… Oh no, Alfred is just fine… Yes…. I can see where you would get that idea… No. I was actually calling about Matthew… He is looking rather pale and he is running a rather high temperature... Yes, it's 102.5℉… Yes, umm. That's 32.1℃… Of course… We'll be seeing you in a little bit."

"No…" Matthew moaned as he rolled onto his side. "I can't…" His eyes were starting to slip shut and his foggy mind began drifting. He barely heard his brother telling the nurse that he wanted to stay there until their Dad arrived. He never did hear her reply.

As soon as he stepped into the the nurses office, the British man knew something wasn't right. Both of his sons were in the room, Matthew rolling around fitfully and Alfred trying to keep the cool rag on his fore his forehead.

Once Alfred looked up and noticed his father standing there he quickly got up and joined Arthur. "Daddy, Mattie is really sick. Papa told me to keep an eye on him and he just keeps getting worse."

"It's okay poppet. I'll take him to the doctor and he will be back to his normal self in no time."

Pleased with his parental figure's answer, the blue eyed child nodded.

The nurse had stepped back into the room and bent down to Alfred's level. "Can you do me another big favor?" An excited nod was his answer. "Go tell Mrs. Honey that Matthew is going home for the day and that he needs his things." After a quick salute he ran off towards the hallway that led to his classroom.

Meanwhile, Arthur went to check on the sleeping Matthew. "He's still burning up." A frown spread across the man's face.

"He fell asleep soon after he arrived here. Alfred said that he didn't eat much at lunch. He's also been holding his ears off and on while he's been asleep." The nurse explained. "I would say that is a sign of an ear infection."

The bushy browed man nodded and let out a sigh. "He usually tells us when he isn't feeling well. I wonder how long he's been hiding this." He carefully picked the boy up as his eldest son re-entered the room with Matthew's backpack.

"Mrs. Honey said she will send his homework home with me tonight," Alfred explained. "Is Mattie going to be okay?"

"Of course, love. You go concentrate on your school work. You'll be going home with Emil and Papa will pick you up after he gets out of his meeting." With everything in order Arthur carried the sleeping Matthew to the car and headed for the doctor's office.

Violet eyes opened slowly. The sound of the traffic on the freeway pulled the feverish eight year old out of his slumber. He put a hand over his left ear and rubbed his eyes with the other. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks exactly where he was.

"Non," he whined weakly.

When his eyes focused on the rearview mirror, he was met with the caring, yet concerned, gaze of his father.

"Don't worry, love. We are almost to Dr. Fitzgerard's office."

At the sound of that name Matthew began to panic. Dr. Fitzgerard was the twin's pediatrician and the only time they ever went to see him was for their annual check-ups or when they were very sick.

Matthew let out a strained cry. "Non, Daddy! I'm fine."

"Matthew, I don't think you are. You are running a high fever and sound sick. You also don't look well either." Arthur sighed.

Tears began to form in the young boy's eyes again. "But I can't be sick."

"It's not something you can control, poppet." Arthur laughed with a hint of sadness. "I know it isn't fun being sick but you just need some rest. You should be better in a few days."

"DAYS?!" The child's voice was high pitched and seemed to crack. He winced at the sharp pains in his throat.

"What is the big deal, love? This isn't the first time you've been sick."

"But I-I'll have to m-miss school then. And then I won't g-get the a-award." Matthew was beginning to stutter in his destress and was fighting back even more tears.

The young child noticed a strange look on his father's face and then a flood of realization came across the man's face. "You told Papa you were fine because you want that perfect attendance award. Oh, love." Arthur gave him a pitied look.

Matthew nodded. He removed his hand from his ear and placed it over his eyes. "It's all r-ruined now." He let out a quiet sob as they pulled into the parking lot of the pediatrician's office. His tears finally decided to spill over and created tiny waterfalls over his cheeks.

As soon as he was able to, Arthur got out and pulled the small blond into a tight hug. "Love, your health is more important than some silly award. Papa and I just want you to be feeling better and if you are sick, school is no place for you. You still have several years of school to try and get that award. But right now, I want you to get better. If I would have left you there, you would have only gotten worse. Then you would have to miss even longer. More importantly Papa, Alfred, and I would be very worried. We are very worried about you right now."

With a sniff Matthew hugged his Dad back. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

Cooing over him, Arthur picked the unwell child and carried him into see Dr. Fitzgerard.

Nearly two hours later Francis was tucking Matthew into bed while Arthur was reading how to administer the array of medicines that the doctor had given the boy. In the end, it was declared that the younger twin had strep throat and an ear infection. He was to stay home for the rest of the week and to rest as much as possible. After Arthur, Francis and Alfred had fretted over him after they got home, Matthew cam to terms that missing school and not getting the prize was not going to be the end of the world.

I hope you enjoyed.