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When France Sneezes


Deangirl2000

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Justice, Arthur called it. After all those centuries of teasing the "Black Sheep of Europe" wasn't the man down this time. It was Francis Bonnefoy, who was probably on his couch huddling under a thousand blankets and still shivering. Sure, it wasn't exactly right to enjoy others' suffering, but a little bit of table-turning wasn't too terrible, surely.

"Check on him," a nagging little voice insisted. He looked on his shoulder and groaned. "Oh, Mind Angel. That's just peachy. Where's the loud wanker with the pitchfork, I liked him better!"

"Unfortunately, the Mind Devil is in much higher demand so he's currently unavailable." The tiny imaginary figure, who looked like Arthur in a halo and hospital-gown-looking-thing, shrugged. "Anyway, you know you care, deep down. Francis is sick and beneath the surface you're a little concerned. Go check on him."

"You're so bloody full of it," Arthur groaned. "The little red guy would tell me to enjoy his misery!"

"The 'little red guy' told you to cook for a world meeting," Mind Angel reminded him, "just bloody go!!"

Arthur heaved a melodramatic sigh as the visionary figure disappeared, leaving him staring at his car through the window of his hotel room. The Mind Angel was right, he was worried about Francis. Matthew said he hadn't called to complain and that was truly bothersome. Usually the Frenchman could find some joy in a bad day by complaining about it. The fact that he was silent about his illness suggested to Arthur it was more than a tiny sniffle. Sighing in defeat, he got out his keys and drove to Francis' house.

 

*****

 

For a moment no one answered when Arthur rang the doorbell. He was about to give up and leave when the door swung open and Francis stood there with a wary expression on his face but let him in. His hair was sweaty and matted, his face mostly pale with the tops of his cheeks and the tip of his nose red. He wore a pajama shirt that exposed half his chest and held a couple crumpled tissues in his hand. "A-Adgleterre...what are you d-do-hyeeeeschooo~!! Nggh..." He sniffled and wiped his nose with the tissue, his cheeks flushing with either fever or embarrassment, probably both.

"I came to check on you, Frog. Matthew was worried."

Francis sighed and offered Arthur a seat on his couch, which he accepted. Normally, he noticed, the house smelled like rose or lavender, but today it bore the distinct scent of Vick's VapoRub. Arthur tried not to cough from the strength of the odor as he sunk into the cushions.

"He shouldd't be hitch-hissschew!...worried," Francis groaned, rubbing his throbbing temples. "He kdows I'b f-fine..." He shivered a little and sat beside Arthur, sniffling wetly and grabbing another tissue. He eyed him curiously as if wondering why he wasn't taunting him yet.

"Oh, because you clearly sound it," Arthur said sarcastically. He was starting to feel quite guilty now that he saw how miserable Francis looked. He also felt himself slipping into mother hen mode a little. Francis reminded him of Alfred when he was sick, either whiny or waving it off like it was nothing. Arthur sighed. "Tell me everything you're feeling, maybe I can help." Seeing the anxious look on his face he added, "Not by cooking, don't worry."

Francis blushed a little. "Well...my throat 'urts terribly, a-achoo!! Mnnh..." He rubbed his nose a little. "And by dose is rudding, and I feel all achy add cold add 'ot...add queasy, like I-hu-hutchoo!! Hyesssh!! Ughhh...like I cold throw up...nnggghhh..." He pulled another tissue from his box on the coffee table and tried to blow his nose, only to sneeze into it. "Hrrrrsssch!! Yaaassshoo!! Oooh..." He held his stomach and groaned. "Adgleterre, maybe you should leave, mod abi..."

"Nonsense." Arthur shook his head firmly. "You're ill and I'm going to take care of you. Have you checked your temperature?"

Francis shook his head. "Non. Every time I try to hold a thermometer udder my todgue, I 'ave to-to--h-hatchoo! Hup'shhh!! ...sneeze..." He whimpered a little and the noise was so pathetic Arthur felt his hard going out to him. He stood up and bent down to feel Francis' forehead, frowning.

"You're definitely running a bit of a fever there," he informed him. "Where's that thermometer you mentioned?"

"Od the bathroob coudter, but you dod't 'ave--ashoo!! 'Ave-hi-hitscch!! Hutchoo!!"

Arthur winced. "I think I do. That sounds like some nasty cold you've got there, maybe even a flu." He walked into the bathroom and saw it was a mess of saline spray water, spilled ibuprofen tablets, and more used tissues. The poor Frog, he really was ill. He located the thermometer and rinsed it before turning it on and approaching Francis with it. "Here, sit up? I'm going to take your temperature."

Francis groaned a little, knowing he'd barely be able to breathe with his mouth closed, but permitted Arthur to slip the thermometer under his tongue anyway. He tried to resist the urge to sneeze with it in his mouth but couldn't and almost choked on it as a result. "Hnn-htsschh!! Tchh! Hrrsshhht!! Mgggnnn....." He groaned loudly and coughed, which in an odd way almost soothed his burning throat. The thermometer beeped and Arthur read the screen and frowned.

"39.2, Frog, that's not good. I'll get you some ibuprofen and make you some tea, okay?"

Francis nodded and sighed, his eyes starting to well up. He was so sick, so miserable, and finally someone seemed to care enough to come to his rescue. He leaned into the cool, soothing touch of Arthur's hand as it slid from his cheek, down his neck, and to his chest. "Ooh, you really are burning up, you poor thing...hey, are you crying?"

"N-non...ou-oui..." The Frenchman sniffled and hugged Arthur tightly, hot tears running down his cheeks and staining the Englishman's shirt. "Merci beaucoup, Arthur... I really thought no one cared....."

Arthur felt a tightness in his throat as his own eyes burned. And here he'd thought he was going to come taunt the poor sick nation. No, it turned out bringing him comfort truly was better than revenge. He cracked a small grin. "Thank you, Mind Angel."

Francis stared at him in confusion. "Euh?"

Arthur flushed scarlet. "Nothing, Frog, nothing at all."

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I LOVED this fic, Tomato!! :inlove: I feel like people don't include France enough, so that was especially nice. :heart: I love how you portrayed Francis and Arthur's love-hate relationship here, and your style and structure are so entertaining to read! Love it! :) 

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Thanks so much!! I feel the same way!! :) I really enjoy England and France, as a ship or just as friends XD they're so cute :)

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I've had so many notifications lately, but I can't believe I missed seeing this one!! I totally agree with JQ, France has never really had any good sick fic, well that is until now XD

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Aww this is so cute. I'm not the most familiar with the Hetalia fandom. But this is just so sweet, and I loved how you portrayed their relationship.

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