Welllll guess who's been sick? Yeah. I've felt cruddy lately but then I got realllly sick. Like 104°F sick. On top of this I've got to be packing for moving and all sorts of fun stuff. :D Say do any of my lovely reader/reviewers attend conventions? P.S. Happy Flag Day fellow Americans!

Alfred groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. For a moment he expected to see the ceiling from his home in Philadelphia, or maybe even the blue sky above him. Instead he was looking at an arched ceiling high above him with all sorts of embellishments.

Another groan escaped as he slowly began to try and sit up. He barely got a few inches off of the mattress before a searing pain in his chest stopped him and he collapsed back into the soft cushions.

"Owwww." His eyes screwed shut as he waited for the sharp aches to stop.

Then there was a soft touch, smoothing back the hair that clung to his forehead. His muscles relaxed almost instantly in response.

He opened his eyes once more, and was surprised to find that he had somehow been moved slightly, or maybe Francis had been there the whole time. From what he could see, the French nation was sitting cross legged, his back leaning against the headboard of his bed. Alfred's head was resting in his lap, and it was Francis who continued to gently stroke his hair.

"Why-" Alfred began coughing before he could finish his sentence, cringing at the pulling pain in his chest once more. His throat felt raw, like he'd been talking for hours and hours. Or screaming.

Once the coughing finally came to a stop he looked back up to Francis, who was regarding him with a sympathetic gaze. This time, he spoke in a much quieter voice. "Why are you in my bed?"

Francis smiled down at Alfred, laughing lightly at the question. "I've been here often over the last few days." Despite the familiar smirk on his face, there was a concerned tone laced throughout his words.

"How are you feeling ma petite colonie?"

Alfred shrugged his shoulders a little. "Like crap. And why does my chest hurt?" His neck craned to get a better look and see for himself.

Francis placed his hand on the colony's forehead, gently pressing him back down before he could see the extent of the damage done. Confused blue eyes glared up at Francis.

"You shouldn't look just yet." Francis answered before Alfred could even ask why. "First you should tell me what you felt before collapsing in the orangerie."

Alfred frowned, trying to remember what had happened last before he woke up here. He and Francis had been exploring the gardens, and then they'd been…Dancing? His face heated up as he remembered that, yes, they had been waltzing in the middle of the orangery. Then…Then…

A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows as he tried to remember more than that. Then it hit him. His eyes widened, "Something bad happened back in the states." His voice was hushed, as though he was afraid to speak loudly about it.

Francis nodded his head, before murmuring in an encouraging manner, "Anything else?"

Alfred closed his eyes, "It hurt, like, a lot. More than the French and Indian war. More than any battles during the Revolution." His eyes snapped open and he stared up at Francis. "Did-Did Art-England do this?"

Francis smiled, but it was a bittersweet expression. "Non. The British Empire did this." There were both subtle and obvious differences between England and the Empire that existed today. Angleterre would never do a thing to hurt his beloved colony. The British Empire though…

He sighed softly, his fingers brushing at Alfred's hair once more. "They seem one in the same anymore."

Alfred stared up at him, eyes wide. Francis sounded so, so sad when he said it. Like he had some other memory to compare to and couldn't let go of it. He frowned, "It'll be okay."

Francis laughed at the worry in Alfred's words, "Ah cher you've been sleeping so long, it has been far too quiet without you up and about." His subtle change in topic seemed to do the trick on Alfred who rolled his eyes, face slightly red from the compliment.

"Can I look now?"

There was a moment of silence and then Francis nodded his head once.

Alfred took in a steadying breath and closed his eyes before propping himself up on his elbows so he could sit up a little better. Without saying anything Francis helped him up a little more. Alfred tried to take most of his weight on his own, but he still leaned heavily against the French nation.

Alright, now or never. His head tilted forward, chin near to touching his collar bone before he opened his eyes to see.

He blinked dumbly, lips parted as he stared at the raw looking burn just over his heart. His mind still recalled the tan, unmarred skin that had been there before. Not the mess of blisters and red skin that currently covered a good part of his chest.

"I was just about to put on some clean bandages."

Francis's hushed voice interrupted Alfred's startled thoughts. He forced himself to smile and look over his shoulder at him. "You didn't have to do all this." He felt indebted to him. Were it not for Francis he…

"Don't fret ma petite, it was nothing." Francis waved one hand casually and then began to sit Alfred up the rest of the way, moving very slowly as he did.

Once he was sitting up, Francis moved off of the bed and over to a nearby table. There was a neat stack of towels along with a pile of clean bandages. Francis grabbed the latter before returning to stand in front of Alfred.

He had shifted to where his legs could hang off the side of the bed, bare feet just barely touching the cold floor. Alfred caught another glimpse of the wound in the mirror above a vanity and couldn't seem to tear his gaze from it.

Francis frowned and placed two fingers under Alfred's chin before tilting his face away from the mirror. "Puis-je?"

Alfred blinked a few more times before then nodding his head, reaching up and pushing aside Francis's hand. He laughed, a little awkwardly as Francis began wrapping the bandages around his chest.

"Are all Europeans so touchyfeely?"

Francis arched one brow, smiling as he focused on covering the burn with the fresh dressing. "You wound me Amerique. Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?" He spoke with a dramatic flourish, and added a wink at the end for good measure.

Okay maybe that hadn't been the best question to ask. Especially of Francis. Arthur had told him some downright scary stories about the French.

"Ah ha, ah no?" Alfred said awkwardly before then shrugging one shoulder. "I'm just not used to it I guess. It's…" He paused as he tried to think of the right word, "Er, weird?"

Francis gasped in mock horror. "Non that is simply unacceptable." He'd just finished wrapping the wound and tied it off in a neat bow. Unnecessary but he rather liked bows.

Once done with that he leaned back, one hand on his hip and the other placed under his chin as he regarded Alfred. "I recall you being very affectionate when you were younger."

Alfred's face heated up drastically, but he rolled his eyes and fought to maintain his composure anyway. "Well I was a kid, and that's…You and Ar-England were new and different, and it was just a reaction and why are we talking about this?" He rambled on, desperate to move onto something else.

The whole time he blathered on Francis eyed him with barely concealed amusement. "It does make you uncomfortable. Well if that's the case then shall we go for a walk? Or would you rather rest some more?"

His eyes lit up, "Could we go see the gardens?"

"Oui." Francis stood nearby as Alfred struggled but got to his feet without any help. The colony was just as stubborn as Angleterre it would seem.

Francis barely touched Alfred's elbow, guiding the nation rather than carrying his weight as they walked out into the hallway.

"Where's George, and Ben?" Alfred asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He could vaguely remember Washington, just before he'd completely passed out.

Ah, the Americans. "Monsieur Franklin has been speaking with my own representatives, and coming to an agreement on our…" He trailed off for a moment, "Exchange."

"As for Monsieur Washington, he has been spending time with Monsieur Lafayette." Francis smiled, his head tilting to the side, "They seem to get along very well."

Alfred nodded his head, and tried to focus on what Francis was saying instead of what kept running through his mind.

Arthur actually attacked me. He burnt a city, my city. People, the Congressional building…The city.

It kept repeating itself, as if on an endless loop. He had known that Arthur would be mad, but this was unbelievable, and scary. When he finally focused back on the present, they had reached the gardens and Francis was helping him sit down on one of the many benches.

The cool breeze felt wonderful against his flushed skin. He closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation for a few moments.

Then he opened his eyes and turned to Francis; who had sat down next to him and had been watching him silently.

"How long until they've come to an agreement?"

Francis's eyebrows rose slightly. "Soon they'll be presented before the King. The deal is, ah how do you say, 'as good as done'."

"Will you be there?"

Francis nodded.

"Then I'll go too."

The French nation smirked, "But ma petite I did not think you enjoyed the elaborate French society and our dancing."

"There's going to be dancing?" Alfred asked with a concerned frown. Then he noticed the playful smile on Francis's face and glared. "Ha ha, very funny. Pull my leg some more why dontchya?"

Francis tilted his head, "I was doing no such thing."

Alfred mentally kicked himself for using the analogy that Francis probably didn't understand. "It's a-Ah never mind, but I'd be there anyway. Dancing or no dancing. It's…Important to me." Alfred straightened somewhat, looking determined with his shoulders squared and face serious.

Francis smiled softly, "Then we're going to have to make sure you have the appropriate clothes for such an event. How are you feeling?"

That had been unexpected. The serious expression turned into a confused one as he looked back to France. "Uh, fine? The wound sorta itches." He mumbled, one hand creeping up to hopefully scratch at the bandages.

Francis gently took Alfred's hand before it reached the covered burn and clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Non, let's go then." He helpfully pulled the confused American to his feet.

"Go? Go where?" Alfred frowned as Francis mostly dragged him along.

The leading nation hummed happily, before then slipping one arm behind Alfred's waist and gesturing with his other hand, "Shopping of course!"

"What did you say?"

The man standing on the other side of the desk was visibly shaking; skin blanched and sweat trickling down his neck.

"T-The reports ind-indicate that he's b-b-been spotted in France. I-It hasn't been c-confirmed bu-"

A teacup went flying scant inches past the man's face and shattered on the wall behind him. If possible his face paled even more.

"Then bloody well confirm it."

"S-Sir." The man saluted, rather poorly, before turning and rushing out the door.

Arthur sighed heavily, gloved fingers massaging at the side of his head. Spies, everyone had their bloody fingers in everyone else's business, and if his spies were right then…He couldn't imagine Alfred, his colony in those damned lecherous hands.

He had to remind himself that nothing had been confirmed yet, that this was merely speculation. Whispers of rumors and sideways glances. It didn't sit well with the British nation either way. It made sense, more than he cared to admit, for Alfred to have gone with his General to that bloody frog.

If Francis had any sense of self-preservation he would have closed his door to Alfred and turned him away. The Revolution had been a spectacular failure on the American's part, and no dignified nation would so much as give the time to Alfred.

Not to mention that America was his colony, and no one else's. Especially not France's. His teeth began to grind together as his mind conjured up images of Alfred talking with Francis, laughing-Ugh.

All such thoughts vanished when his gaze landed on the fixed stuffed rabbit. The pathetic thing sat on the edge of his desk, regarding him with dull button eyes and a sad tilt of the head. Arthur reached out and grasped the soft plush, holding it before him with a reminiscent smile.

"You don't know what's good for you Alfred." He sighed once more before setting the rabbit down in the corner again.

"Kirkland!"

Were it anyone other than General Charles Cornwallis addressing him as such, Arthur very well might have seriously hurt them. Instead he looked up at his General with a bored expression. "Yes General?"

The man looked slightly flustered, which was unusual.

"Sir, the colonists have acted up. In the South they are retaking the plantations, and," he paused for a moment, an indignant scowl on his face, "and hanging the British overseers."

Arthur closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "General, take the appropriate measures. I've business to attend to overseas."

The General's eyes widened before he nodded, "Of course sir, we will handle things here in your leave."

"Do so then. You have my leave to go and take care of this problem, before word of it spreads."

Cornwallis gave another nod before turning and walking briskly out of the office, his heels clicking on the wood floor until finally Arthur was alone once more.

Arthur slowly stood up out of the chair, looking down at the scattered papers for a brief moment before stacking them up into a neat pile. With that done he slid into his jacket and walked around the desk towards the door.

He stopped midway, and with one hand reached out and took hold of the forlorn looking Flopsy. Then he walked out the door, and closed it without saying a word.

Alfred groaned as he and Francis walked up the steps of the Versailles, his feet aching and chest still itching. Never again did he ever want to go shopping-Ever.

Francis on the other hand seemed to have been invigorated from the whole thing, eyes glowing and a content expression present almost the whole day.

"Ma petite I should not have kept you out so late." Francis observed the tired colony with a knowing smirk.

It had the intended effect as Alfred glared halfheartedly at him, "I'm fine. I've just never really gone out and spent a whole day just figuring out what clothes to wear or things like that. It's-" He noticed the observant look in the other's eyes and groaned. "Okay it's exhausting."

Francis's smirk widened and he once again slid his arm around Alfred's waist, this time supporting much of his weight as they walked. "I know, and I will let you rest as soon as we reach your room."

Alfred nodded his head, and Francis watched him from out of the corner of his eye. "You are very strong Amerique." Alfred opened his lips to protest but Francis stopped him before he could deny him, "Non, it is true. You'll have a scar," he placed the hand not fixed at Alfred's hip over the colonies heart, "but already you are doing more than I had expected."

It was as though he had bounced back from the burning, invigorated in a way. Francis was very curious as to what was happening over in the New World. He imagined that Angleterre had his hands full with whatever the Americans were doing.

They reached the top of the steps just as the ominous clouds overhead cracked and sheets of rain began falling from the sky. Francis ushered Alfred closer to the building and inside so he wouldn't get wet, and they barely made it through the ornate doors in time.

Alfred looked behind him, watching the rain with a despondent face. Francis frowned and gently tugged on the nation's ear, "Ma petite it is not going to bite you."

He tore his gaze away from the rain, recalling a muddy field and where he sat, crying out for Arthur to say something, anything.

Francis had a curious, but worried look to him, and so Alfred managed to smile. "Yeah, I'm whipped. Room? Because I'd get seriously lost without some help."

The obviously faked smile didn't comfort Francis any, but he let it slide and once more wrapped an arm about Alfred's slim waist and walked slowly through the hall. "It is not so hard, perhaps you'll learn in time."

Alfred rolled his eyes. There was no way he could ever remember how to get around in the palace.

They reached the door to his room, and Francis wordlessly pushed it open. He led Alfred to the bed and set him down on the edge before going over to the window and looking out at the darkening sky that was illuminated only by the occasional lightning strike.

Alfred sighed as he pulled his legs up close and worked off the shoes followed by his vest. He collapsed back onto the bed, too tired to deal with the rest right then.

Francis turned from the window and walked back, standing near Alfred with an amused smirk.

"Just going to sleep in your clothes?"

A mumbled 'mhm' was his only response.

He smiled and shook his head at the tired boy. Part of the reason he had taken him out was to see how Amerique would fair with such an injury. Francis had to know for certain that the attack wouldn't cripple him, or make him a worthless ally in another Revolution against Angleterre.

"Bonne nuit ma cher."

Francis turned to leave after his farewell, but was stopped short when a hand grasped his wrist.

"S'il vous plaît restez."

Francis's eyes widened and he turned to look down at Alfred, who was partially curled up on his side, and staring up at him with blue eyes so similar to his own.

"D'accord." Francis couldn't say no to Alfred, especially when he had requested him to stay in such flawless French. It was a vast improvement from the way he had butchered it just last week. Had he been able to speak it so eloquently all along?

A gentle tug on his wrist interrupted his thoughts, and reminded him of whom he was ignoring. Francis smiled and repeated softly, "D'accord."

Then he crawled onto the bed and lay down next to Alfred, who curled up into his side but a moment after. Francis pulled the blanket up so that it covered them both, and smiled to himself. Years from now he was going to have a wonderful time telling Angleterre how his beloved colony had shared the same bed as him.

Just imagining Arthur's reaction was enough to give Francis a good night's sleep.

Some translations because I forget not everyone reads/speaks French.
Puis-je? – May I?

Bonne nuit ma cher. – Good night my dear.

S'il vous plaît restez. – Please Stay.

D'accord. – Alright.

As for historical notes, some of my favoritest people are mentioned in this Chapter. Such as Gilbert du Motier, marquis de Lafayette. He was a French aristocrat and military officer who served under George Washington in the Revolutionary War. Also he and Washington had the best bromance ever. Seriously. Look it up sometime. Lafayette's daughter even wrote letters to George Washington. How cute is that?

General Charles Cornwallis was a British General and a colonial Governor. He was actually opposed to the measures and events that led up to the Revolution but accepted his duty and service to the crown and served in the Revolution for England. He was a very good commander.

I really do love to read your reviews, and reply to every one of them. X3 I hate to say it but they do encourage me to write more, and to write better. I just want to thank you all who have been and continue to review. If I could I'd bake you all some delicious homemade goodies.