Warning: Contains mild nudity

Chapter 7

England's eye's fluttered open soon after the sun's light had flooded into the room. His head started to hurt immediately. Feeling a weight on his chest and choosing to ignore it, he moved to run a hand through his hair, but stopped short when he heard a groan coming from below him.

Or rather on top of him. Somehow, his brother had found his way on top of him, with his head snuggled in the crook of his neck. How did he even end up in his room, much less his bed? He was too hung over to care...

Staring at the bigger body on top of him, he thought about his options. 1. Shove him off = Punch in the face or 2. Lay there and wait for him to wake up = Get shoved off bed, kicked and then lectured. Great options.

He couldn't think about it anyway as his head started to hurt again. He tried to rub his temples, but as soon as he moved his brother groaned again and tightened his hold around his waist.

On another note, Scotland's hair looked really soft; much softer than his would ever be. He reached out to touch it, and surprisingly he reacted positively. Well he didn't really move, but that wasn't a bad thing.

England also noticed his muscles; he was pretty big. Not the biggest, but bulkier than him; it made him remember the times he'd been told that he had a petite figure underneath his signature suit.

He shifted and squeezed him tighter, letting out a tired grunt and it made England feel like a stuffed toy. Yet deep down he was happy he wasn't being lectured or hurt by him for once. But they were in a pretty weird position; and he didn't want his brother practically feeling him up so he gently tried to remove his brother's arms from around him and slide out.

"Shhh, come into the alley with me~" England jerked away as he heard the purring voice that came out of no where. After glancing around, he saw one else was in the room. But froze and tried to listen for the strange voice again.

Just as he was about to try and move again, his head started to throb. "W-What are you doing?" A tiny second voice squeaked.

"Quiet, quiet! You'll be fine, it's one of God's games!"

"I don't think I want to play..." Then the voices faded away and he suddenly started to get antsy. Becoming more desperate to get out his brother's grip, he became dangerously nauseous. But he was still dumbfounded by the strange phenomenon, and failed to make it to the bathroom as he shoved Scotland off with all his might and started vomiting violently off the side of the bed.

Being very disoriented and confused from being awoken too fast, he didn't move from where he'd been pushed off. He didn't even realize what type of position they were in when he was asleep. Collecting his thoughts and remembering the events from day before, he finally began to grasp reality again.

"That's disgusting..." He said simply as he crawled beside England.

"...Shut … the bloody hell... up..." He said collapsing onto the bed. He felt like sleeping; after all throwing up took allot of strength out of you.

As soon as the smell hit the Scott he slammed his fist hard upside the Englishman's head. "Damn, I feel sorry for the maids. Now get your lazy arse up; I'm guessing we're late for that meeting bullshit." And with that he ran to the bathroom to get dressed.

When he came out England hadn't moved at all. He was sure the word 'late' would wake him up.

"Lazy fat ass." He mumbled mostly to himself since England was knocked out cold. "I'm not gonna let you screw me over." He again talked to the unconscious form. He thought for a moment before smirking due to the fact that came up with a brilliant idea. "Heh, heh. Today I'm going to be the representative."

Yes, that idea seemed nice. After all, England was represented them all the time, and scotland thought this was a great time for his turn.

"Just for that, I'll give you a break!" He stated cheerfully as he carefully avoided the puddle of vomit and covered his sickly looking brother with the fluffy blanket.

He stood back and examined the scene before him. Scratching the back of his head awkwardly he mumbled, "Wow, I sure am giving you allot of breaks lately. Not like you'd actually appreciate them..." He added bitterly. "... I hope your not thinkin' I was starting to like ya'. I still can't stand you."

He uselessly glared at England before walking out.

XoXooXoX

Overall, the meeting went well. A little bickering between Finland an Åland (well really it was just Åland criticizing the poor Fin), but other than that, nothing.

Scotland was extremely happy that he got to represent today. He walked out of the room with his chest pushed out and the rest of UK trailing behind him (Ireland walked beside him because he would rather die than be part of United Kingdom).

"Well, well, well, what do we have here." A honeyed voice purred from behind them. The group turned only half way around to see where he female voice had originated.

"Åland, please be nice!" Finland whispered from behind her.

"Käften!" She snapped back. But he laughed. "You rövhål; what are you laughing at?"

"Heh heh, I'm sorry! It's nothing really." he laughed again. "It's just that... Well, you don't have your own language..." Which translated into, "Ha ha! You don't have your own language, and I do!" in Åland's mind.

And that caused her to yell at at the poor little Fin, and the the group of brothers (and one sister) saw no point in staying and started to leave. "What the hell? Wait!" She called after them.

"What do you want then!"

"Well no need to get snappy about it..." She huffed. "And besides, it has nothing to do with you Ireland. The Nordics just wanted me to come get Scotland here." She examined her nails. "They wanted to get drinks or something..."

At the mention of some good ol' Alcohol, Scotland became interested almost immediately. "Oh really. Well, I haven't spoken to them in a few months... Lead me to them!"

"I'll come too!" It just so happened that Ireland wanted to reconnect with the nordics as well. Irie puffed angrily. "If he gets alcohol, I want some too!"

"Alcohol? Who said I was going for the drinks? And your way to young to-"

"Sorry, we only want Scotland." Surprisingly it didn't come from Åland this time, but Finland.

He looked shocked for a mere second, but nodded. He and the Nordics were close, and it made sense that they would want to invite him out for drinks; but they didn't know his siblings (other than England) very well. "Alright you three, see you later... And no you can't come."


"Can you believe him?" Irie ranted. "He's the bloody representative for one fucking day, and he's bossing us around!"

"Yea, well I'm a free country; I could've gone if wanted too! But no, you had to fucking drag me with you!" Ireland yelled back.

"Yea well, why would I want my lousy arse brother to go have all the drinks he can swallow, while I'm sittin' down drinking apple juice! Trying to pretend it's good cup of ale." This was hows it had been for the long walk back to their hotel room. Poor Wales was being ignored by his two younger siblings. Sometimes, he felt like the youngest child that everyone seemed to ignore. He tried telling them to stop cursing so much, but they didn't even bother listening.

When they arrived at Irie's hotel room, the irish twins stopped and stared at the floor; the arguing had stopped completely.

After a moment Ireland spoke. "I got some spare beer in my room." He scratched the back of his head. "... I guess I could share with you." Irie fought with her brother practically all the time, but she'd never turn down an offer like that. He never shares!

"Well I guess I could too. After all, we could have another drinking contest!"

"Even though I won the last time."

"We never found put who won!" And the fighting started again as they trailed down the hall in the opposite direction; leaving Wales all alone.

He hated it when he was alone; dreaded it even. Nothing good ever comes out of being alone for him.

But Scotland was busy socializing, and the Irelands were drinking themselves into oblivion, and Wales didn't know anyone else. Starting to feel a little scared from solitude, he desperately walked (ran) to England's room.

The door was open, which was weird because England always locked the door. In fact all of the brothers did, except Scotland; but he wasn't in here so he shouldn't count.

He locked the door behind him as he cautiously walked in.

Scotland was right, he was really sick. He sat at the foot of the bed, avoiding the vomit on the floor that should've been cleaned up by now, and thought of how he had hated having a little brother when they were younger. He didn't know why though; probably because Scotland had instilled it in his brain at a very impressionable age. But he didn't hate his brother as much as he did back then. Many things had happened, and as an outcome Wales had matured. But England didn't know that. He still thought he hated him as much as he did all those years ago.

Wales leaned over and petted his hair, he liked being able to be the older brother for once.

Scotland was his senior, Ireland was independent, and Irie clung to England; that's why he felt like the youngest: he was dependent on everyone. "You're very handsome you know," he smiled. "I don't know how you haven't found a partner yet."

England gave a little cough and his breathing became faster. Why was he sick anyway? It couldn't be because of the hangover. His mouth started moving, as if he was about to say something in his sleep. Wales leaned over very slowly.

He started moving his mouth even faster, but no words came out, and throwing his head side to side fitfully. And before Wales could lean any closer, England vomited again. It kind of reminded Wales of a volcano. He tried to aim for the floor, but in his disoriented state he missed at first and got all over himself and the bed. The rest got on the floor though.

Wales threw himself off the bed in disgust immediately. Paralyzed by the sight before him. England had finished vomiting, but was sitting up in the bed crying softly with drool spilling out of his mouth. It was a disgusting sight, and it must've felt just as disgusting as it looked. "My side hurts..." he mumbled.

He had no idea what to do! He was never in this type of situation by himself! He reached for the phone and dialed 'zero' because that was the nurses number, right?

He looked at England with a cautious side glance, as if he was afraid of what he would see. England didn't seem to be really crying. He was sniffling, but they looked like tears of pain, not disgust or sadness.

He was on the seventh ring, and still no one answered. He started tapping his foot irritably, and tearing up himself. It was so overwhelming for him, and now his head started to hurt.

"Hello?" A thick german accent said over the phone.

"H-Hello?" He stuttered, shivering violently. "I-Is this th-the nurse?"

"No this is Germany, you could say I'm the operator." He voice was rushed and tired, like he's been doing allot at the moment.

"O-Oh, w-wait. Why are you the operator?"

"Uhh, don't worry about it, now what do you need?"

"O-Oh!" He said, bringing him back current issue. He sniffled and shivered even more as he heard England vomiting again; and it sounded painful. "I need the nurse!" He yelled finally.

"*Sigh* Is it really an emergency?"

Wales felt his self confidence dim for a moment. "Umm... yes?"

"Don't waste my time! Is it an emergency or not!"

"No, I guess!" He cried. "... B-But then, what do I do if someone's throwing up allot?" He added before Germany hung up.

"Alright... I'll be up in a moment." Then he hung up. But why was he coming up? Shouldn't it be one of the humans?

But that didn't matter at the moment. Wales hung the phone up dramatically slow, and turned around to even slower to look at his little brother. But thank God he could use the knocking on the door as an excuse to stop.

He practically ran to the door to open it for the person on the other side who was banging the door so hard Wales was surprised it didn't cave in.

Knock Knock. "Yo! Let me in, Iggy!" Oh shit, it was the American. Wales wasn't too fond of him, and didn't necessarily hate him, but he knew him well enough to know he was trouble. But without hesitating, he opened the door. He couldn't stand being alone anymore anyway.

"Was up Iggy!" He said warmly. Wales sighed; he couldn't stand being mistaken for England, but he learned to tolerate it much more over the years. "... I... am not England." He said slowly. "I am-"

"Then where is he bro?" He asked suddenly looking worried. "Listen, you can come in, but England is sick so be calm and-" Suddenly, Wales was pushed into the door, and America rushed in. How rude! Now his back hurt... "W-Wait! I said be calm!"

America didn't know much about colds, but from observing previous colds from England, and many other people, he knew it made him feel really bad. "ENGLAND, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, which hurt Wales' head.

Said Welsh walked up beside the American standing at the side of the bed gaping at England and gaped with him. It wasn't so bad now that he wasn't alone.

America looked from England, who had surrendered to sleep, to the puddle on the floor and back to England. It was everywhere.

Out of what seemed no where, he began to shake him violently. "ENGLAND, PLEASE DON'T DIE ON ME BRO! YOUR NOT WEAK, YOU CAN MAKE IT!"

"Stop it, please! Do you want to hurt him?" He stopped for a moment to look at the flustered Wales. "... Not that I'd care..." There was an awkward silence. "My side hurts..." England mumbled so quietly, America and Wales both decided to ignore it.

"You really don't care about him?" He said with dangerous eyes. Wales flustered even more before changing the subject. "It smells horrible in here, huh?"

"Yea... I can't leave him in this condition." He stood up to his full height, ad dusted off his hands.

"I gotta bathe him."

XoXooXoX

Scotland joked around, and laughed at the bar with his nordic friends. Even Finland and him were getting close; turns out Finland actually liked him, and they grew up in the same town! He was a hell of a good drinker too; Sweden had to slow him down.

They were all sitting at the bar, not drunk but pretty close, and screaming random things at the television in the corner. Scotland patted Denmark, who sat beside him, on the back and said through tear of laughter, "I've had a great time with all a ya', but I gotta get me some shut eye." They all over exaggerated their good byes as he staggered out the door.

He had no clue where he was going, he was just wandering around right now, reminiscing about his night and smiling to himself at the memories.

"So hows Ireland?" Finland appeared behind him. He was leaning against the wall, trying to balance himself.

Scotland's heart raced at the question. "I haven't seen her in a while..."

"... Oh, you mean Irie? She's fine!" He laughed relaxing a bit. He couldn't have meant anyone else! Should he?

"No, no, no, not the young girl..."

"... Ireland?"

"YES!" He said unnecessarily loud, probably from the alcohol. "Well... no, dear. I mean the girl Ireland." He started getting anxious again. "You know... the girl! She was about this tall," He said trying to show her height with his hands. "And she had long, thick bright orange hair! Not crimson read like yours, and I remember she was older than you..."

Scotland stood in shock, staring at Finland with a pained expression he didn't pick up on. Then he started running. Running in the complete opposite direction, away from the memories. It was true Finland grew up in the same town, but he doesn't remember him. And he couldn't have known about her! That was nearly a thousand years ago!

Finland watched Scotland go with a dark expression. He shrugged.

"Eh, I never liked her any way." He started to head back to the bar. "Damn bitch."

XoXooXoX

"E-England, can you stand?" America stuttered, beginning the process of picking him up. There was only an annoyed and distressed grunt in response, but no movement. He took that as a 'no'.

He began by taking his gloves off, and slowly lifting off the vomit covered blanket. He carefully slipped his hands underneath him and lifted him up bridal style easily. America thought he looked really small. He walked uncharacteristically careful to the bathroom, and Wales opened the door for him.

America looked around the bathroom for a place to put the sick man. He decided to place him in the bathtub, and stopped before he undressed him. Wales stood beside him awkwardly. America dreaded having to undress his former care taker and look at his naked form. He wasn't too fond of nudity.

But he was the hero! And with that hero complex of his, he felt urged to help him naturally. With a sigh, and a final shiver down his spine, he began to undress him.

When he had his shirt off, and started taking off his pants with quivering hands Wales walked out saying, "I'll find some new clothes or some pajamas." America doubted he'd come back. He guessed he was on his own now.

His hands shook even more as he unbuckled his pants, but eventually, he managed to open it to reveal unicorn underwear ... He would've thought England's flag would be on his under wear, but unicorns? America would've laughed if he wasn't about to see England's... member.

After he removed his pants completely, he didn't have the heart to pull the final piece of clothing off so he filled up the tub first. As the tub filled up, he took off his coat and prepare himself for the worst.

The water was above his waist now, though he could still see throughout the water. As he began to pull if off with closed eyes, he could've sworn he grazed it! And that caused him to fly back and fling the under wear in the air; landing only God knows where.

"Wales! Where's the the soap and shit?" He screamed frantically. There was absolutely no cleaning supplies in there, It's like everything had been moved!

Immediately, Wales entered with a sponge and a bar of soap. "Where did you find these?"

"Umm, we kinda played a joke on England and..." America ignored that statement. He'd let it slid this time. As the tub started to overflow, America turned off the water frantically.

Hesitating again, he began to scrub his upper body, and laughed as he washed his messy hair. It was kinda fun at first. Taking care of England like he used to take care of him. He tried to work on the hair as much as possible because it was all messy and knotted. Plus he wanted to postpone having to clean his member for as long as possible.

When he was finished, he decided he should just suck it up and do it! Taking one final sharp intake of breath, he threw his whole arm in the water and started scrubbing everywhere roughly.

"Nyaaa~" He sounded. America stopped to look stare at him with utter shock and terror. "IS HE ENJOYING THIS!" Cautiously, he repeated the movement to try and get a noise out of him again.

He started getting all red and breathing harder, but America couldn't tell if it was just lust or distress.

Until he weakly threw his arm out of the water and started to whimper slightly. "Oh shit, I'm hurting him!" When he stopped, England stopped, and went back to his deep sleep. "My side hurts..." he whispered dreamily.

"I guess I gotta be more gentle, huh?" Yes he did, even though he just wanted to be done, but he still smelled vomit and he couldn't have that.

So he did it much gentler, and thankfully England didn't move. In fact he was doing it for quite a long time...

"... I think he's done... down there." Wales said at the door, looking very irked. America immediately took his hands out the water, and put them in front of him defensively. Wales threw the pile of clothes under his arm by America and leaned against the door. "You better thank God Scotland isn't here. He kill you."

"... I thought Scotland didn't like him." He said lifting up England's leg over the side of the tub to wash it. Even though he was still didn't like nudity, he was getting pretty used to washing him now.

"Oh, he doesn't. Told me himself he can't stand him; but he doesn't want no body touchin' him for some

reason."

"But-"

"Be right back, someone's at the door." America took a deep breath as he removed the plug, and let the water drain.

Wales opened the door to find Germany with Italy, who was wearing a nurses uniform. Wales completely forgot about Germany. "Oh, I thought you weren't coming."

Germany looked at Wales apologetically. "Uhh, yes I'm sorry. I got an urgent call from my boss. It's actually about England." Wales welcomed them into the messy room, and the visitors gagged at the smell. Wales looked at the embarrassed. "Oh, sorry! I'll open the window."

"No! It's fine I-" Germany said frantically. But the smell was also killing Wales to so he moved to open the window, but it wouldn't budge. He tried again and again, but still it wouldn't move. "Well that's odd... most windows aren't sealed like this." He turned to the guests. "Sorry, you'll just have to take it."

Germany sighed in relief. "Yes, well where's England?"

"He's in the bathroom."

"Germany? Oh thank God! You dress England!" America rushed out with a bright red face, just as Germany entered.

He entered the bathroom cautiously. Though he didn't mind naked people at all, seeing his... acquaintance(?) naked didn't set to well in his stomach.

England was indeed naked, and unconscious. He started to feel very awkward, he did not want to look at England, but his eyes kept traveling to the worst spots. He feared England would kill him, even though he probably wouldn't remember this. And seeing him in such a weak and fragile state was weird.

He threw the nearest, and driest, towel over him and easily threw the man over his shoulder. "My side hurts..." He breathed. Germany laid him on the floor and with his eyes half closed, he slipped on his under wear, then his pajama pants, and finally put on a thin shirt; then threw him over his shoulder again.

Walking out of the messy bathroom, he walked into the messy room triumphantly. America looked ten times relived that his former care taker was clothed again. Returning back to his normal carefree mood he said, "Ha ha ha! England's normal again!"

"Sorry, but I highly doubt that; I'll take him down to our hospital wing, he can sleep there. I'll just assign him a new room tomorrow."

"Yea, okay..." Wales answered, trying not to sound relieved. "But what's wrong with him?"

"Oh! Wales, don't you know England gets sick all the time?" Italy stated happily.

"Ugh, no Italy. It's more complicated than that..." They all started to walk out of the room, heading to the medical wing. "Remember the phone call I told you about?" They nodded. "Like I said, it was my boss. He updated me on our current issue with the human situation. Apparently, the priest in England who started this whole thing decided to poison the water systems."

"What?" The gasped. Even Italy was shocked, though Germany had told him times before.

"Yes, but it was controlled. They managed to only poison one city's water. Poisoning a water system will cause its country to get violently sick, like England. My boss said it was the priests way of showing us how much control he had over us. In fact he's done it to other countries too, they're in the infirmary as well. He said he wants us to meet his demands or give him an answer in five days. They arrived at the hospital wing and placed england on a nearby empty bed. Germany tucked him in, and turned towards the rest of the countries. "We should leave him to recover now."

"What are we going to do? It's like he has complete control over us!" America finished for Wales as they left the room and closed the door behind them. "Don't worry about it now," he answered. "We'll worry about it tomorrow."