Side Effects of Superstrength (Hetalia)

Author: Ashynarr

Summary: So you know how, canonically, Alfred can drag around cars and swing bison like it's nothing? Yeah, the other Nations do too.

Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.

Warning: Hilarity and chaos involving Alfred

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"Ulgh, I'm shorry Toris," Alfred groaned miserably, punctuating it with another loud sneeze. "You don't have to do this for me."

"But I want to," His friend replied firmly, offering over a new box of tissues so the American could wipe off the snot and tears again. "I would be a bad friend if I left you alone like this."

"But it's ruining your vacation," The blond complained, sneezing again and crushing the box of tissues in his hand. Thankfully that failed to damage the tissues inside, though he still looked absolutely miserable a the loss of control. "And I might hurt you again."

Toris sighed. "I can always take my days off afterwards, and this should blow over in a few days at most; it's fine, Mr. America."

"Yeesh, you're too much like Artie sometimes," Alfred muttered, sinking back into his sheets with a sniffle and a pout.

"I'll take that as a complement this time," The Lithuanian man replied easily. "At least my food is better, right?"

Alfred's laugh came out more as a hacking cough. "True; it might actually help me get better sooner instead of leaving me in a coma for an extra week."

The brunet smiled, straightening the sheets so that they covered most of his friend's body again before going downstairs to check on the stew he'd left simmering. Leaving food unattended for long was generally a bad idea, but he'd been cooking and serving it for others for long enough to have an idea for how long he could be away safely, and really, without him there to keep the blond in bed, there was no doubt the American would do something stupid like try to get up and get some work done 'while he was doing nothing anyways'.

Honestly, did the boy have no self-concern at all? It was so surreal compared to Europe that it still threw him whenever he thought about it for long.

Then he recalled just how England treated his other possessions, and shut his thoughts up again.

Testing the stew and finding it to be just right, he shut off the stove and pulled it to the side, ladling out a decent amount into the bowl before setting the ladle to the side and turning to bring lunch back upstairs. He could eat later, but right now Alfred needed something in his system to help fight off the cold that'd taken advantage of his economic weakness.

On second thought, he ducked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel. Better to be safe than sorry after all.

"What is that?" Alfred asked exhaustedly as he eyed the bowl and towel.

"Vegetable stew; it's an old recipe of mine," Toris replied, carefully handing over the bowl and spoon while laying out the towel on his friend's lap.

"Wow, no faith in me," The blond shot heatlessly, peering down into the bowl with an expression that could have been distaste or just some queasiness. "Thanks, though."

Alfred slowly started taking bites of his lunch, making faces but continuing to eat it all wordlessly. Maybe Toris' small rant on health and eating well had finally sunk in?

Then Alfred sneezed, the bowl cracking under his fingers and sending the remaining half of the bowl spilling across the towel and the sheets as well as himself. The spoon was merely bent down the middle, looking like a tiny ladle itself now. "Aw, shit."

"Are you hurt, Mr. America?" Toris asked, more concerned with the hand that had been holding the bowl than the bowl itself. He had gone out and purchased the cheaper ones for a reason after the first two had broken, after all.

"I"m fine, Toris," The American replied, dropping the last shard in his hand to show that it was indeed free of any sort of wounds.

The Lithuanian sighed in relief, turning his attention back to the towel and thanking his past self for the forethought of grabbing it as he cleaned up the rest of the mess as well as he could. Alfred sniffled miserably, looking ready to sink back under the sheets and never emerge again.

"Sorry about that…" The younger man apologized softly, tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

"It's fine, I promise; you can't help it when you're sick."

"I am so making all this up to you when I get better."

Toris smiled, not doubting it for a second. "Of course, Mr. America."

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AN: Whoops, poor sick babus... at least he didn't break anything too important, and at least he had Toris there to keep him from doing something really dumb.

Slowly getting back around to all of my other drabble collections, though I have to admit a few other projects I've started recently have been eating into my time a bit more than initially planned... oh well, I guess...