Disclaimer: I do not own lovely Hetalia.
AN: And it goes from bad to worse.
...
He stood up with a jolt, looking through the hallway to the doorway where the little boy stood, eyes downcast. "What is it Alfred? What's wrong?" he walked over to him.
America glanced at his brother, on the couch, who was now shaking. His breathing had rapidly gotten shallow. His little polar bear, Kumajirou, nuzzled him worriedly.
France rushed to his brother's side. He kneeled by the couch, sweeping his hair out of his face. Canada was flushed heavily, beads of sweat seen on his forehead. France gently put his hand to the small boy's forehead.
"Alfred, fetch a thermometer, rapidement!" America came back swiftly.
France gently put the thermometer into Canada's mouth, causing for his eyes to open – France winced. They weren't bright, but instead were glazed over with what must have been fever. The question was how high it was.
After a beep, he removed it. It read 39.1. America tugged on his sleeve. "What does it say Francis?" France converted it to Fahrenheit in his mind – he knew America would be familiar with it. "…He has a temperature of one-hundred-two-point-three." America was smart enough to know what it meant.
"Papa… I'm tired…" France was amazed at how much weaker his voice sounded from when he had first woken. "Alright Matthieu… come here…" He gently scooped up the boy in his arms, cringing as he felt small fingers clutch tightly onto his shoulders.
He hated how small his brother seemed at this moment.
When they got up to the room, he gently tucked Canada in. In the small trip upstairs, Canada's breathing had gotten worse and he had started coughing. France watched America flinch every time a coughing attack racked his twin's small body.
He turned as he felt America nudge him. He was standing there, quiet for once, and holding out something fuzzy and white – Kumajirou. "I thought… he might want him…"
France smiled, ruffling America's hair before taking the beat and setting it next to Canada. "You're a very thoughtful colony, America." He was offered a small, timid smile in return.
France sighed. It was amazing how willing America was to play nice, even after England had schooled him to hate France. Of course, that couldn't stop America from loving Canada.
He kissed Canada on the head. "Rest, Matthieu. You'll be fine soon enough."
"Come with me, Alfred." He took the colony by the hand, leading him out of the room. They went downstairs quietly. France nodded at the couch, and America sat on it. France then sat next to him, surprised when America put his head on his shoulder and chest, his small hand clutching his knee.
"…Are you alright, Alfred?" He nodded, his eyes dull. "Yeah Francis. I want Arthur, though. I'm scared for Matthew. I don't want him to get worse."
France nodded, looking at the boy's pale face. "How about I get you some water, Alfred, and then we play some cards. Would you like that?" he nodded.
France stood and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a mug and filling it with lukewarm water. He had just started to wonder where the cards were when he heard vigorous coughing coming from a different room.
And it wasn't coming from upstairs.
He turned, eyes wide, and went back to the previous room, only to see America doubled over, eyes squeezed shut, coughing into his hand. Alarmed, he sat next to him, gently rubbing his back. He felt the younger one lean into him, his body struggling to take in air.
"Francis… it… hurts…" he muttered in between harsh coughs, tears in his eyes. "Oui, Alfred, calm down." France said back gently. "Have some water, that will help."
He gently uncurled the colony and put the water to his lips, breathing easing as the liquid touched his throat.
After France removed the mug from him, America calmed and lay still, France still supporting the young colony. His eyes were glazed, and his breathing had gotten slow and calmer. But something scared France.
He gently lifted America's wrist, looking at the hand he had been coughing into.
It was speckled with a bright red liquid.
Blood.
...
AN: Lire et réviser, s'il vout plait, que la France allait dire. *Read and review, please, as France would say*