Allergy Under Pressure (Hetalia, America)

[lillian]

America's fall allergies get the best of him. England hovers. The existential qualities of nationhood are briefly explored. Mostly America just sneezes a lot.

Written while obsessively listening to "Under Pressure" and bemoaning my own itchy eyes and nose. Damn trees. 

--

“Uhhh... UDSZCHHHOO!”

“Bless you, are you alright?” 

America sniffled thickly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Mmmb, yeah. Will be. Sidus idfectiod.”

“Come again?”

He sniffled again, more deeply this time, and produced a congested-sounding snort. It didn’t help. “Ugh —scuse be— sidus idfectiod.”

England frowned. “Have you had a cold, then?” England had noticed that America hadn’t been able to quickly get over colds like he used to. These days, it seemed like the young, strong nation was constantly fighting something. More worrying, he’d been quicker to admit it recently, with glassy eyes and tired sighs that caused England’s heart to ache. 

“Nd- ndoe… HATSCHHEH! snff prolly frob allergies. Ragweed is bad this year.”

England couldn’t help a quiet hum of sympathy. That wasn’t new, at least. Every year from late August to October, America was reduced to a sniffling, sneezy, helpless mess. His occasional visits to meetings abroad were almost a reprieve, unless the affliction followed him, as it seemed to this time. 

England tsk-ed before he could get too emotional. 

“You’ve probably come down with this because you never take the proper precautions! How many times do I have to remind you to stay indoors in the fall and to take something when you’re congested so this doesn’t happen?”

“Yeah, but Igs,” America paused for another slurping snuffle. England cringed. “Id’s football seasod a’d I’ve got that high school teab I’ve beed coachi’g. They’re doi’g so well this year! I ca’d ditch theb over sobe-sohh sobe sdeezi’ggg…, hnnnGXTDZCHHOO! HAT—SCHHEH!”

“Bless you. You’re probably an inspiring sight in this state,” England said sarcastically. He immediately regretted it. 

America’s red-rimmed eyes flitted downwards, an embarrassed heat deepening his already flushed cheeks. 

“Yeah, well…” he croaked, trailing off into a tired hitched breath. “Hih! Heh! HEH—nnnGDZCHH!”

England waited.

America snapped down into cupped hands. “HAP—SCHHOO!” 

“Bless you.”

“Thags,” America rasped, steepled hands covering the lower half of his face. “Mrghh…” he glanced up at England. “Sorry.”

England pulled out his handkerchief and handed it over. “I.. I shouldn’t have been harsh. But really, you’ve had bloody terrible allergies for years now. You should know better.” He pressed on, ignoring America’s wince at the familiar, stinging phrase. America held up a finger, eyebrows shooting up. 

“Haaaa...! AADSHHHT! —EYYSHH!

“Bless–” England began automatically. 

“-- EYTSCHOO!” America blew his nose softly. 

“Bless you,” England said, covering up the concern in his voice with a sharp “blow your nose properly or you’ll just make yourself worse.”

America did as instructed, releasing a thick, gurgly blow into the borrowed handkerchief. “Oww…” 

“Again,” England instructed. America blew again, interrupting himself with a scraping “AESHHH!!… There id is…” he coughed stuffily, the sound catching a bit in his chest.

England cringed again, an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes. “Goodness,” he half-murmured. “You’re really not well.” To England’s dismay, America shook his head. 

“Dnoe, I feel really, really bad.” He coughed again into his elbow. 

“Do you think you have a temperature?” England asked quietly. “Even if it started with allergies, if you have a sinus infection…”

“Duddo. By head feels ligke id’s goig to explode.” 

England cleared his throat and reached over to put the back of his hand on America’s forehead, then his cheek. He tsk-ed. “You feel warm. Have you seen a doctor?"

America huffed a hoarse laugh. “Id’ll go away, Igs. Dod’d deed a doctor. This has happe’d before.” 

“Happened before? If you have a fever…”

America raised his head from folded arms to give him a watery glare. “I said id’ll go away,” he said sharply. He sniffled roughly, which seemed to trigger the irritation in his sinuses, because his breath hitched and his head tilted back in preparation for another set of sneezes. After a few jerky breaths, he let his head fall into his arms and trembled with two barely muffled sneezes. 

“hehhDDJSHH! hehhh! HEDZCHH!”

England made a small, unbidden noise in the back of his throat. He put a hand to America’s bowed head, gently stroking his soft golden hair. America made no move to acknowledge him, just coughed again, the muffled sound deep and rough. He hitched once, twice, and then trembled again with what felt, under England’s light hand, like two more suppressed sneezes. 

“Ah! Stop that,” he said, without any edges. 

America lifted his head, eyes dazed and hazy. England quickly drew his hand back. “APPTCHUH!” He sneezed freely, turning his head to the side. “Hhh! HATSCHHHOO!” He tried to sniffle, found he could not, and clamped the borrowed handkerchief over his streaming nose, nodding at England’s “bless you.”

“Sorry,” he muttered thickly into the handkerchief. “Jus’ dod’ wadda bother w’ try’g do explaid… y’dow…” he gestured vaguely. England’s eyes widened. America wiped his nose and coughed in lieu of a sniffle. 

“Explain what?” He thought he knew. 

“The wholee… coud’ry thi’g.”

England froze. “You mean this is…”

“Directly related to the state of the udi’od, yes.” America said quietly. “Hard to shake thi’gs ligke I used to…”

“I’ve noticed,” England said softly, cautiously returning his hand to smooth back America’s hair, messy from pitching forward to sneeze. 

America’s eyes widened. “Really?”

England paused. America’s fear was palpable. 

America looked down at his hands— sun-browned, and strong. Powerful. Capable. 

“Whad’s godda happe’d to be?” He asked in a small voice. 

England tutted like he was comforting a small child. “Same thing that happens to all of us, love. We grow, we get strong, we fall back a bit, we struggle, and the sun keeps coming up in the morning.” He sighed, pushing away memories of all the squabbling states and broken kingdoms he’d watched rise and fall over the centuries.

“You won’t be alone,” England continued, tucking a loose lock of hair behind his ear. Suddenly, America leaned forward and wrapped his arms around England’s neck, like he used to when he was a little country. After a brief moment of surprise, England hugged him back, ignoring the warm wetness of America’s red, chapped nose on his neck. 

__fin__

Edited April 2, 2023 by lillian

[RosyLights]

This is really good, and the ending is so sweet! I love the way you write their relationship. Poor America; at least he's got England to look out for him.

[ID2006]

Lovely

[ID2006]

Lovely

[lillian]

Ahh thank you! I’ve been on a real US + UK kick recently and I’m glad people aren’t tired of it yet! Helps me process my own existential anxieties as an American lol