Blue eyes that normally looked so sharp and glimmered like fresh ice, but know looked like two dull murky pools, bore into England's emerald gaze. Through the haziness, England saw confusion and recognition flash through Germany's features. The taller blond shifted under the covers, which were tucked up to his neck. His eyes flicked over the room lazily, a small cough rattling through his chest.
"Yes, Germany, it's me," Arthur sighed, shifting on the edge of the bed to face the German more fully. He noted the way Ludwig started shifting, and he could tell the other was going to sit up. "Rest. You look like death warmed over, right now, and I don't want you getting any ideas about going anywhere until you've gotten some proper care." It only took one hand gently pressing down on Germany's chest to keep him down, and England winced because of that; the tall, muscle-bound, intelligent man that could strike fear and respect into a majority of the world, held down easily by a sarcastic, lean, and for the most part disrespected Brit. He could even see the younger nation struggling with what seemed to be all his might against his single, delicate hand.
"Why... W-why are you h-here, England?" Ludwig murmured, giving in with a small sigh. His temples throbbed every time he tried to raise his head, anyways. The thin, cool fingers went back to brushing through his hair, and he subconsciously relaxed and pressed his head softy against them. Arthur didn't mind, his smile soothing and calm, like a father's or an older brother's, though the few times Prussia had worn that look had meant his Kleine Bruder was so beat up and tired that he couldn't move a muscle on his own.
"You didn't show at the meeting, today. I came over to give you what for and found you blowing chunks," he hummed. "You passed out right after that, and you still look knackered after a three hour nap. How long have you been sick?" The German shifted softly onto his side and snuggled into the blankets, staying silent. "A while, then? You should have called up and canceled the meeting, Germany. I'm surprised you had enough energy to get to the bathroom without making more of a mess on your floor, let alone drag your sorry arse down to the meeting hall! Sit still, I'll be back shortly."
Ludwig's hazy eyes watched the shorter nation leave the room, the door being left partially open. He heard steps going down the hall, then downstairs. Finally, he got up the nerve to try moving, again. Germany's body ached harshly as he lifted his head, the throbbing pulling a low moan from his parched lips. He looked down at himself. His summer sheets were gone, he could see the corner of one sheet sticking out of the hamper. It was autumn, so it was only a matter of finding the time so he could change them, anyways... His light gray winter sheets were tucked neatly around his shivering form, and the dark blue comforter was pulled up to his chin.
Sitting neatly on the floor near his head was his wastebasket, a fresh lining replacing the almost overflowing pile of tissues he remembered being there, and it could easily double for a receptacle for any more vomit his body found to force up his throat. Everything looked freshly cleaned, actually, especially the floor, and from where he lay, the bathroom didn't have the puddles of bile he remembered being there, waiting for him to clean them up. Germany sighed, wincing as his rough throat ached angrily at the action. His nostrils twitched, and the taller blond tried to hold it back,but he failed.
"H-ha.. Ahhha- Hat'chu! Ha-hat'chu!" Ludwig sneezed, his temples ringing and his chest and airways screaming in pain. He sniffled meekly, a cough making his chest feel like someone had reached in and was squeezing his lungs tightly with each breath. Germany slowly wormed his arm out of the warmth, plucking a tissue from the recently opened box on his nightstand. He blew his nose, the sound wet and pitiful as he cleaned up his face from the snot that had dripped out. The German's whole head felt stuffed up and congested, like it was going to pop open any minute from the ear-splitting headache. Squeezing his eyes closed, he let his head flop back onto the pillow, murmuring softly about paperwork he needed to finish.
"Paperwork can wait," a crisp British voice practically snapped, but there was a gentleness in the tone. Something wet and cold was pressed against Germany's forehead, and he whined. The wet cloth stayed pressed firmly against his feverish skin, despite his weak attempts to remove it. "I know, I know... Trust me, Germany, this will make you feel much better if you let it stay where it is." Blue eyes pealed open and looked at him, the physical misery apparent as he finally settled and let the cold compress lie across his brow.
"I-I... I have p-paperw-work... N-need to-"
"Oh no you don't! I called your boss, and you are officially on sick leave until you've recovered! Your work can wait until you can walk around your whole house without feeling dizzy and you're fever's broken," England childed, his face, though still concerned, taking on a stern expression. "Here, I brought up some cool water and the cough syrup from your medicine cabinet. Let's sit you up so you can take it..."
The taller blond was a little surprised and how easy it was for England to shift his leaden body so he was tilted up in a semi-sitting position, his pillows holding his head up. Germany coughed roughly as the blankets were re-tucked to suit his new pose, and the Brit let his fingers run through the sweaty blond locks gently until the fit eased off. The tiny plastic cup was pressed to his lips; the medicine's sent just broke through his congestion to tell Ludwig it would taste vile. A small whimper slid out, the German too tried and loopy to care that his dignity and masculinity had just been soiled by the small, pitiful noise.
"This is all you had, chap. It's the cherry kind, yes... I can get another flavor later if this keeps up, alright? I have water right here once you've swallowed it all," Arthur soothed, a soft smile on his lips as he pet the German's hair. Hesitantly, Ludwig parted his lips and the syrup was tipped into his mouth, his eyes squeezed closed. It was revolting, and he whined faintly as forced it to slide down his throat. He didn't open his eyes back up as the water took it's place and was given to him in sips. The horrible flavor left after a minute of swirling around the cool liquid before gulping it down, and his throat felt at least a little better with the way the thick medicine coated the scratchy muscle.
"That's it, Germany..." England crooned, setting the glass aside once the German motioned that he'd drunk enough. "I can make you some tea if you feel up to it. Sound good?" A faint nod was the only response, Ludwig too tired and his voice too scratchy to do much more. He relaxed into the soothing strokes of the Brit's thin fingers combing through his hair, sighing softly. He fought sleep's advances for a little while, his eyelids heavier and heavier by the minute.
"Sleep," Arthur whispered, his voice oddly tender compared to his usual jaded tone. "You need your rest... Don't worry, Germany, the world won't explode or anything if you do. I'll have some nice tea ready and if you feel up to it, something for you to eat when you wake back up. Just go to sleep..." The German didn't have much choice, his weakened body dragging him down into the soothing darkness of unconsciousness.
'Wait... He'll have something ready? England's going to cook?!' Ludwig's mind pieced together as his eyes slid closed. 'Oh, Gott...'