trust me 2.0 (countryhumans au)

✷chapter five✷

Britain tossed and turned in his bed. What was wrong with him? Well he had a pretty bad fever. He has tried his best to continue doing odd jobs around the place but eventually he did collapse from whatever it was he had come down with.

He had been bed ridden for about a week by this point, drifting in and out of consciousness. Barely eating and even then, only being able to stomach more softer foods without throwing up. He hadn't been able to visit Soviet in some time now.

Of course America stayed by Britain's bedside for as much time as he could. He had to leave at some points because he was the boss but he always came back immediately afterwards. This time, America had been gone for awhile to let Britain try and rest.

America had initially blamed Britain's sudden illness on his routine visits to the 'rat in the basement' as he liked to call Soviet. Britain had tried to calm America down but he had definitely failed.

Britain tried to sit up in his bed, his entire body felt like jelly but he did try. He pushed the covers down a little and wiped his forehead of the cold sweat that had formed there. His mouth felt dry and his head felt numb. Not the best situation to be in.

And yet he couldn't help but worry about Soviet rather than himself. Britain had been well taken care of but what about Soviet? Was he alright? He needed food and water. There's no way he could survive down there without it.

Britain was just about to try and stumble out of bed (and most likey fall right back onto the bed or perhaps onto the floor) when his door opened. America stepped in holding a tray that Britain couldn't see from the angle he was at.

America closed the door with his foot and walked over to Britain, placing the tray on his bedside table and sitting down on the chair next to his bed.

They tray had a warm bowl of tomato soup with pepper sprinkled into it, a pack of tissues, a glass of water and some medication.

America reached out and held Britain's hand, rubbing it with his thumb.

"How are you feeling?"

Britain looked up at America and gave a weak smile.

"no different to when you asked last time..." His voice sounded horse.

"This isn't good. You definitely caught a virus from that rat. I went down there earlier and he even smells like a sewer,"

Britain let out a strained, quiet chuckle. It hurt to laugh but he just couldn't help it. America had a way of always making him laugh, even when he was being 100% serious.

"maybe we should give him a bath... like a puppy," Britain thought of a tub of water with a tiny dog inside, splashing about without a care in the world.

America, however, had other ideas.

"I'm sure I could just hose him down in the cell and throw a bar of soap at him,"

"he can't stay in there forever america,"

"Yes he can. He has pretty much everything he needs to survive,"

Britain mustered all of his remaining energy to give America a small look of dissatisfaction. America sheepishly looked away from Britain, a silly little grin plastered on his face.

"Fine... I'll let him have a bath,"

The hose can always happen some other time. America thought.

Britain sunk back down into his bed with a groan. America placed his other hand on top of the one that was already holding Britain's.

"Is everything alright? Do you need some water?"

"...i'm alright, just a little tired," Britain tried to keep his eyes open. He wanted to stay awake for just a little longer. He hadn't eaten in a while.

America placed the back of his hand against Britain's damp forehead. He held it there for a moment before pulling away to grab the glass of water.

America held the glass to Britain's lip. He had done this before so he knew what to do to help Britain drink some water. He tipped the glass slightly as Britain took a tiny sip.

"Just a little bit of water, ok? Nothing too much," America's voice soothed the pain Britain felt for a moment, it turning to more of a dull ache but for nothing more than moment. It sent a small shudder down his spine.

America's free hand moved up to stroke Britain's hair like he always did. It had almost become second nature at this point.

"Do you want the soup now or do you want to rest a little?"

America put the glass of water back down onto the tray.

"i... is this a trick question?"

America nearly snorted as he let out a little laugh.

"Of course it is. You need to eat something hun," America smiled warmly at Britain.

"...okay,"

America helped Britain sit up enough to put the tray on his lap. Britain shakily took a hold of the spoon next to the bowl of soup and managed to successfully eat a spoonful of the warm tomato soup.

The real question was if he could keep it down and not vomit it all back up.

"I'm sure you'll feel better soon,"

America leaned over Britain and gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"thank you..."

America stood up from the chair and walked over the door.

"I have some work to do, but I'll be back soon, ok?"

"ok.."

America gave Britain one final warm smile before leaving the room. Britain weakly returned the smile as he left.

He'd get better soon. Then he could visit Soviet again.