Needy Child

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, nor do I get any profit for writing this. Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, credits for the fanart at the top go to syouson (pixiv member ID=6141528)

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Chapter Six

Canada felt like he was floating.

It was a strange sensation – he was dimly aware that his body was real, heavy, but at the same time he couldn't truly feel it. His mind was muddled, he faintly recalled noises and voices and touches surrounding him, but he couldn't bring himself to care, he only wanted to slide back into the soothing embrace of oblivion.

Something told him that waking up wasn't recommended, he was much better suspended into that weightless void, but his mind had other ideas, and Canada slowly started regaining awareness of his surroundings.

The first thing he realized was that he wasn't lying down like he had previously assumed, but propped up in a semi-sitting position by something soft and warm. No, not something – someone. He could feel his support rise and fall slightly with each breath, a regular and soothing motion. Kumajiro.

His body was naked except for a pair of underpants, wrapped in a thin but incredibly soft blanket, and an arm was sprawled over his midsection. It felt heavy, hindering any movement, but at the same time the solid, warm weight was oddly comforting. Something cold was on his forehead – no, not cold. More like damp. A cloth of some sort.

Immediately after, Canada realized why he had dreaded so much waking up: everything hurt. His body felt heavy and weak, his bones and muscles pervaded by a dull pain, his chest was tight, his throat dry and scratchy. When he experimentally took a deep breath, the child found himself coughing, the air caught in his lungs.

A hand landed on his forehead, then threaded through his hair, the touch gentle and soothing.

Only then, Canada realized that somebody was humming a lullaby in a low tone, barely audible. He recognized the tune – and also the voice and the hand, he realized suddenly.

"Mmhh... Mr England?" he muttered feebly, his voice barely above a whisper, as he forced his heavy lids open. Everything felt incredibly difficult, he was so weak that he could barely open his eyes, but after blinking a few times he managed to bring England's face into focus.

He was immediately rewarded with a tender smile.

"Matthew, love, are you awake?" asked England, his voice soft, without stopping from petting his hair. "How are you feeling?"

Canada nodded, confused. Why would England ask him if he were awake? He had opened his eyes, hadn't he?

As for the second question... He surely wasn't fine. But not that bad, either, nothing unbearable. And he had an odd hunch that it was definitely an improvement. Besides, he couldn't just trouble England, the older nation looked already worried, his eyes were soft but his forehead slightly creased.

Trying to take time, Canada examined the room – which wasn't his, he realized with surprise, but England's. The man was sitting on a chair beside the bed, leaning over him, and when he turned his head Canada found himself face to face with a deeply asleep America. The older colony was lying on his side next to him, the arm wrapped around the child belonged to him.

England chuckled lightly when Canada brought his questioning gaze back to him.

"He'll be very glad to see that you're finally awake. He refused to leave your side all the time, you know?"