He opened his eyes softly. He was lying on a bed, covered up by three or four blankets. He slowly sat up, but a hand pressed down on his forehead and laid him back down onto the pillow. A damp, cold cloth was placed on his forehead.
"Are you alright? We found you out in our fields, cold and asleep." He heard a clink as he saw a glass of water sat on the sidetable to the left of his bed.
"I live across the road," America said. "I was... out for a bit. I didn't know the fields belonged to anyone."
"It's okay." That was another, very different voice. "They don't often. Our fields are a good distance from the house."
"Yeah. Oh. Matthias Køhler; Denmark."
"Eduward von Bock; Estonia."
America sighed. "Alfred F. Jones; America."
Denmark gasped. "America lives across the road! Now that's something you don't hear every day! Anyway, are you feeling okay? Again, you do have a fever."
America sighed. "I'm alright. Thanks for taking care of me, dudes."
Estonia smiled. "Don't mention it."
"So is this a domestic relationship, or-"
Denmark and Estonia started throwing retorts at him, as well as at each other.
"No," Denmark finished.
"I'm just here," Estonia said. "Somewhat like you and Torys."
"I have children with Torys."
He paused. "Somewhat like you and Raivus." Denmark and America both nodded. The latter stood.
"I've got to go somewhere."
Denmark and Estonia nodded as he stepped out the door. They smirked at each other, sharing a kiss as he ran back across the road to his house.
