Chapter 4 ready-steady-GO! Haha, as always, thanks for the amazing reviews guys :) And by the way, I don't know shit about how airport records work so yeah if you do then don't hate on me for being clueless -_- Hopefully we can fit some drama into this chappy, ne?
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America and France walked into the airport, America pushing anyone and everyone out of his way, not even trying to move around them, while France walked behind him and hastily apologized to everyone he pushed.
Once reaching the counter, France stepped ahead to speak to the young brunette behind the counter, her hair was up in a neat bun and she wore small glasses as she glanced up from her computer.
"How may I help you, sir?" she asked politely.
France smiled, "Ah mon chere, I was hoping for a little assistance... you see, my friend and I need to have a look at some of your records, we are trying to find some people and we have reason to believe the records of past travellers may help in our search."
She raised an eyebrow "Oh... who are you? We can't give out our records to just anyone, you know, are you part of the police force or something?"
France pulled out some papers from his bag, he grabbed them quickly as they fled the house knowing the would need them. They were fake documents that said that both he and America worked for the government, giving them easier access to important things in cases of emergancy such as this.
France handed her the fake documents "I am Francis, and this is my friend Alfred..." he explained, they couldn't go around letting people know the were countries! "...we work for the government, recently a... um, coworker has gone missing, well, has been kidnapped." he stated.
She looked over the papers, nodding in approval, believing the entire thing. "I see, I'll talk to my boss for you, he'll know where the records are."
France smiled "Merci" he thanked her. The woman left for a minute returning with an older man with jet black hair that was combed to the side.
"Hello gentlemen, I heard you wanted to see our records?" he asked, America and France nodded in unison. He held out a brown folder, "We have copies, so you can keep these if you must. Stacy said you were working on a kidnapping case so I understand the urgency." he explained as he handed France the papers.
After accepting the papers, America and France headed back to America's car which was parked out front before opening up the folder to sift through the information.
France flipped through a few pages before finding something interesting. "Hey America, it says here that a group of three people brought a sick man on one of the flights..."
America dropped the pages he was holding, "Dude! Read it out loud or something don't just stare! That shit must be important, right?"
France nodded quickly "It says on a side note that the 'sick person' had to be tied up due to seizures... they must have sold that story to get England on the plane." America leaned in closer "Look! The names! "Ludwig, "Kiku", "Feleciano", and even "Arthur"! It's them!" he explaimed, pointing out the names he had gotten to know.
France smiled slightly, "Looks like we've got a lead... let's see, according to this, they went to... Italy."
America's eyebrows creased. Why Italy? Oh! They must have been trying to hide from them, since they would automatically asume they took England to Germany's place. Sneaky bastards.
"Well" America stated "Looks like we need a couple plane tickets to Italy."
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Italy yawned cutely as he awoke from his slumber, Germany had taken the guest room leaving the Italian to sleep on the couch, he didn't really mind though because his couch was super comfy!
Hmm... maybe after England got better they could hang out on the couch! That would be fun, ve~!
Italy skipped upstairs to his room, "Englaaaand~ are you awake yet~?" he walked into the room. He was getting less and less afraid of England, finding that the brit wasn't really that scary... he was just incredibly tsundere.
"England?" questioned the Italian.
England was curled up in a tight ball under the sheets, shivering, only the top of his rather messy hair was out in the air. Italy frowned, concerned.
"England are you okay? You seem-" he stopped as he pulled the blankets down. England was panting and shivering, a pained look etched on his face. His skin ws deathly pale but his face was flushed darkly.
Basically, he looked like shit.
"AAAH ENGLAND!" Italy shrieked, England groaned in pain, trying to bury his face in the matress. Italy covered his mouth, yelling seemed to hurt England.
Italy grabbed the thermometer, slipping it in England's mouth. His eyes went wide (yes he actually OPENED his eyes) when he saw the number. England's fever was dangerously high, Italy had to cool him down immediately.
Italy wasn't the brightest, but he knew that when a person's fever got this high they needed something along the lines of an ice bath.
With a deep breath, Italy heaved England over his shoulder and literally dragged him to the bathroom where he placed the brit on the ground and began filling the tub with ice cold water.
When the water was running, the panicked Italian quickly began to undress the brit, throwing his pajamas to the side. Italy knew Germany didn't want him to untie England but he couldn't get the clothes off without removing the ropes! ...plus, it wasn't like England could do anything in his current state.
He quickly untied the ropes from his wrists and ankles, Italy was relieved to see there were no rope burns, probably because it was hgih quality rope and wasn't too tight. The pale green shirt was first to go, tossed carelessly to the side and landing in the luckily empty sink, the bottoms were gone next, thrown over the Italian's shoulder landing on the floor a few feet away.
Italy froze for a moment as he realized the last article of clothing was a pair of boxers bearing the English flag.
He decided to leave them on (he was getting less and less afraid of England but he was still scary and hell when angry...and Italy doubted he would appreciate waking up in a freezing ice bath completely naked).
With that, he lifted the nearly-naked brit into the bath which by now was almost full. Italy rolled up his sleeves so he wouldn't get his sleeves wet as he adjusted England so he wouldn't slip under the water.
After the tub was full, Italy turned off the water and stuck his finger in the water. Yep. It was freezing.
Italy looked over when he heard a small groan, England was waking up!
The first thing England noticed when he slowly slipped out of his dreamless sleep was he felt worse than he did the day before... and he was cold. Really cold. And only in his boxers. WHAT?
England's eyes shot open to see he was sitting in a tub of freezing water in nothing but his boxers while Italy stood beside the tub looking at him.
England stuttered, his face going a nice red color as he moved his arms in a lame attempt to cover himself. "W-What! HEY! L-Look away! Where are my clothes!" he stammered before sneezing. Damn the water was cold. "Get me out... 'm cold.." England mumbled, his questioning already tiring him out.
Italy pouted "No no no! Ve! You have a really high fever so I needed to cool you down!" he stopped for a minute "...oh I just realized! You've been wearing those pajamas for such a long time, they must be really dirty! I'll clean them, ve~!"
"Then what the bloody hell am I gonna wear?" England asked, pissed. Italy tapped his lip thinking "Ooh! You can borrow some of my pajamas! I'll go pick some out and put your laundry on!" he sang as he ran out, grabbing England's pajamas on the way out, as he ran out the door he quickly added "Stay here!" along with a small 've'.
England glared, like hell he was going to stay in a tub of freezing cold water. That's when he noticed the ropes on the floor. His wirsts and ankles...
"I'm free!" he said with a cocky smirk... sure he was in his boxers, but that didn't matter, he could steal a pair of pants from a store or laundry line or something. He just had to escape first.
England forced his weak limbs to work as he pushed himself out of the tub, his wet feet hitting the tile floor with a small smacking noise.
He tip toed out of the room and padded down the hallway, trying not to breathe not wanting to sneeze or cough and alert the Italian of his escape plan.
England's heart beat sped up as he walked past the laundry room, praying the sound of the Italian's humming would cover his footsteps.
Damn it... thought England, Starting to feel dizzy, bloody fever! I have to get out quickly!
He turned the corner to see something very... upsetting.
Stairs.
England gulped as he held the railing, hoping he wouldn't fall down the long staircase. His grip on the railing tightened as he took the first tentative step.
Behind him he heard Italy finish with the laundry and head back to the bathroom, England began to panic, he was running out of time!
What was worse, everytime he took a step, his headache pounded harder, he found it harder and harder to breathe, and all his other symptoms seemed to worsen.
The world around him began to spin, his illness had been worse than he anticipated... he heard a voice, but he couldn't figure out whose it was or what it was saying. He grabbed the side of his head, trying to stay in control of his body while the fever took over.
Sh-Shit... I can't... he thought as he felt himself fall forward, only halfway down the stairs. The semi-conscious brit closed his eyes and did the only thing he could do. Brace himself for the impact.
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Italy smiled as he picked out a nice pair of pajamas from his laundry basket, dark blue bottoms with a white teeshirt. All of his other pajamas had pasta stains so these were pretty much the only choice, but he thought England would like them.
He folded up the pajamas as he stepped into the hallway... it was wet. Italy frowned as he noticed small puddles all throughout the hallway, the were coming out of the bathroom.
Italy rushed over, hoping England hadn't done anything silly. Stepping into the bathroom, he dropped the pajamas on the floor when he noticed the lack of England. Oh no...
Italy rushed down the hall, figuring it out slowly (hey, he wasn't exactly a genius) these 'puddles' were England's footsteps... leading away from the bathroom... but where did the footsteps, and England, end up?
Italy ran around the corner to see England wobbling down the stairs, his breathing was irregular and seemed forced and he was swaying back and forth holding the side of his head.
"ENGLAND!" Italy screeched, England seemed too out of it to hear him.
England started to lean forward, Italy ran over, knowing the brit was about to fall. As he ran up to England, he saw the man closing his eyes, bracing himself for the impact.
Italy made sure that impact never came as he wrapped his arms around the slender waist and pulled him backwards, the weight caused Italy to fall back and land on one of the stairs on he rear, a sicker-than-ever England limp in his lap.
England's hazy eyes looked up at Italy, expecting some kind of scolding for trying to run... a punishment, shit.
The sight on front of him proved him very very wrong... Italy was crying. England flinched a little as one of the tears landed on his cheek, "E-England..." Italy mumbled "...you scared m-me!" he hugged the sick nation closer.
He was really growing attached to England, like he did the first day he met Germany, but this feeling... the feeling when he was near England was just different. And due to that feeling, he could not let England get hurt. Seeing him almost fall down the stairs really scared the Italian.
England coughed slightly, bringing Italy out of his thoughts, "Why do... you e-even... care?" he forced out between breaths. Italy sniffled "B-Because I think we could be friends... o-or maybe we already are friends! I... I don't know! It's confusing!" he let out a distressed ve as he thought of what to say.
England sighed, " Dunno... why ya' care..." he cursed himself for talking like America but in his half-conscious state that was all he could do "...but, 'm sorry... fer makin' ya'... scared..." he mumbled, slowly falling alseep.
Italy hugged him once more before dragging him off to bed.
Once England was once again tucked away in the blankets, Italy took his temperature. It was lower which was good but it was still extremely high, probably from that whole staircase scene that just happened... Italy sighed.
Taking care of England was harder than he thought... but that didn't matter, no matter how hard it got, Italy would make sure England would be okay.
Italy nodded to himself, That's right, ve~! England will be fine! I'll make sure of it!
ITALY IS SO OOC! ...but it's hard to write angsty-Italy, since he usually just calls Germany in any upsetting situation. So yeah, this chapter kind of got away from me, I mean seriously, I don't even know where the staircase scene came from it just appeared! Haha, sorry this one isn't too good, I'm feeling a little sick myself (ironic, seeing as this is a sick-fic) and it's kind of affecting my writing ^.^' but don't worry, I'll keep writing! REVIEWS MAKE ME HAAAAAAPPY~! KTHNXBAI
