[Fanfic] The Kid: Chapter 22/24
Title: The Kid
Author/Artist: MoyaKite
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Mainly Prussia, Canada, Romano, and Freddy (little kid!OC), but almost everyone could end up in here eventually. (In this chapter: Freddy, Prussia, Canada, Romano.) Also Canada/Prussia.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluff, discussions of mortality, potential for future character death, increasing angst (although there is still fluff, it may be a little bittersweet) In this chapter, illness and caretaker fluff, as well as a healthy dose of cuteness.
Summary: Simply put, Prussia goes backpacking across Europe and finds a kid. What sort of a dad would Prussia be, anyway?
Author's Notes: The original (which started on the kink meme) is here. I hope that you all enjoy the chapter!
Prussia lay in bed, curled up around his pillow. The inside of his right elbow itched unbearably. The skin there was red and thick like a scab-he wasn't allowed to scratch it. The doctors called it eczema; the medicine was a steroid cream that hurt his pride. He tried to ignore it. There was a pain just behind his left eye, like a needle was slowly grinding away into the bone. He'd already taken as much acetaminophen as he was allowed to; the pain hadn't dulled at all, although his fever had fallen from 40ºC at last. He was covered in a thick, cold sweat.
“Mattie,” Prussia called weakly. His body ached-from his fingers to his arms to his shoulder to his back, everything ached. He couldn't breathe around the pain and tightness in his lungs; he coughed and coughed into the pillow. When he looked down at it, he saw some blood flecks; he was too weak and exhausted to shudder, but he lifted his head as much as he could. “Mattie,” Prussia called again. It brought out another round of coughs that shook his body so badly he trembled at the end of them.
Canada came to the door, a steaming mug in his hand.
“Peppermint tea,” Canada said, setting it down on a coaster on the bedside table. He sat down beside Prussia, grabbing the thermometer. Prussia opened his mouth obediently, closing his eyes as he waited for the familiar beep that signaled bad news. The inside of his elbow itched and itched; the piercing pain behind his left eye was without mercy.
“Thirty-eight degrees,” Canada said, worry furrowing his eyebrows. “How are you feeling?”
Like sh-t, Prussia didn't say.
“I'm not freezing, and the room isn't quite on fire at the moment,” Prussia said, wishing his voice would just be steady. He hid the blood on the pillow as he adjusted position slightly. “Better than before,” he said. It was a struggle to keep the tickle in his throat from becoming another cough; his throat was dry, too dry.
“You need to eat dinner tonight, or you're not going to be able to take your iron pill,” Canada said softly. “Do you feel up to eating?”
No, Prussia bit his tongue at the sudden swell of nausea. “Maybe,” he said. He had to remind himself not to scratch his arm. “What're we having?”
Canada looked at him for a long, slow moment.
“You threw up the soup,” Canada said. Prussia remembered hobbling to the bathroom, and Canada holding his hair out of his face; bile rose in his throat. “And the bread, and the cereal.”
“I kept down the mac and cheese,” Prussia replied. The cough finally rose out of his chest, and he hacked and gasped into the pillow, willing his body to stop convulsing. Canada nodded.
“That's why we're having mac and cheese again tonight,” Canada said, getting to his feet. “Drink your tea; it'll help your throat.”
Prussia tried to snatch the bottom of Canada's shirt, but his hand was too slow; he reached in vain, finally letting his hand drop. Canada looked down at him, concern all over his face.
“Do you want some company?” Canada asked.
“When I'm having way too much fun all alone?” Prussia asked, laughing weakly. The laughter quickly turned into coughs, and he paused for a moment to focus on breathing. “Nah. Don't worry.”
Canada sighed, sitting back down on the bed.
“We've been married for more than a year, Gil,” Canada said. “I know that's your code phrase for, 'Please play video games with me.' What game do you want to play?”
Prussia suppressed the urge to chuckle; his lungs still hurt from his last attempt.
“Well, Freddy did want us to be secret agents; we need all the secret codes we can get,” Prussia said. His throat tickled; his arm itched; his eye hurt. He swallowed, hoping to ease at least his throat. “I feel like being an air pirate today,” Prussia continued. “Let's beat Skies of Arcadia again.”
As Canada set up the TV at the foot of the bed, Prussia slowly and painstakingly sat up. Every bone and joint in his body resisted-the ache made the pain behind his eye flare up, and he gritted his teeth, easing back down. When Canada came to sit on the bed, Prussia lifted his head, and Canada scooted his legs under Prussia's head, placing his own pillow on his lap so Prussia could keep clutching his own as he settled down.
“You're the best, Mattie,” Prussia mumbled, his eyes slipping closed as the opening music washed over him. He coughed into his pillow, and Canada stroked his hair.
“Which save file do you want to start from?” Canada asked. Prussia had a habit of saving constantly, usually in different save files; when they went back to games, they could skip around and play only the parts he liked best.
“The beginning,” Prussia answered. “It's been forever.”
“And you're only two days into swine flu,” Canada said, nodding as Prussia opened his eyes and looked up at him. “I wonder if we can beat the whole game in a week?”
“Freddy's never played it all the way through with us,” Prussia said, frowning a little. “Should we wait for him?”
“Nah,” Canada said. “I think he should play it on his own when he's a little older.”
“Okay,” Prussia said. His arm itched, and the pain behind his eye was almost blinding. “We should've let him name us Team Awesome.”
Canada chuckled.
“Can you imagine?” Canada asked. “Hello, this is Matthew of Team Awesome.” Canada laughed and selected New Game.
“Aye, matey,” Prussia replied, effecting his best impression of England from his pirate days. “But now it be time for air piracy!”
~
“Thanks for coming,” Canada told Romano. Romano looked to one side, not quite meeting Canada's eyes; Canada looked disheveled and exhausted. “He's through the worst of it, I hope, but it's dangerous for little kids if they catch it, and Freddy is going out of his mind with boredom.”
Romano nodded, and Canada ushered him into the house.
“I'll see you later, then, eh?” Canada said, raising a hand in parting as he turned away. “Freddy's in the living room. Have fun!”
“Good luck,” Romano muttered under his breath. Canada vanished up the stairs, and Romano shut the door behind him. He sank against the wood for a moment, closing his eyes.
Even Veneciano didn't remember what exactly had happened to Grandpa Rome. To Veneciano, it was as though he'd disappeared. He'd managed to make himself forget the lesions that blossomed across Grandpa Rome's shoulders and chest, the foul-smelling pus that had oozed from them. The way his muscles and bones and joints had given up. The way that every illness lasted a little too long, and grew a little too rough.
With the miracle of modern medicine, they were making Prussia last. Grandpa Rome had only made it through three such illnesses before succumbing to the inevitable. How long until Prussia's body gave up? There was something human about the exhaustion that had begun to seep into Romano's spine-something that scared Romano.
“Romano!” Freddy shouted. Romano stiffened, opening his eyes as Freddy threw his arms around Romano's knees. “So you're my babysitter? That's so awesome!”
“Hey, Freddy,” Romano said, ruffling his hair. Freddy beamed, and Romano's heart clenched. Freddy wouldn't live forever, either. “What're we gonna do first?”
“I was playing with Demeter,” Freddy explained, taking Romano by the hand and leading him into the living room. Demeter was curled up in a ball on the easy chair, fast asleep; Freddy pouted. “Well, we can just talk,” Freddy said.
“Are you on winter break yet?” Romano asked. It was freezing this far north; Romano wished they could've all moved to Italy, instead. Freddy let go of Romano's hand to flop on the couch, sinking into the cushions.
“Yeah,” Freddy said. “It took forever, but I still can't believe I'm halfway through first grade. That's what Uncle Al calls it-they call it grade one here.”
“Are you still studying languages?” Romano asked. Freddy sighed.
“Not so much in school,” Freddy admitted. “But Dad and Papa take me on day trips where we practice different languages, and I've been practicing kanji by emailing Kiku. Oh, and Uncle Al comes up all the time to practice everything with me.”
“Doesn't that idiot only speak English?” Romano asked. Freddy chuckled.
“Only when other nations are around,” Freddy said, leaning in conspiratorially. “He knows every language, Lovino! Like, every single one! He says that it's thanks to his immigrants.” Freddy paused for a moment, screwing up his eyes in thought, before continuing. “You know, he told me that you all have a secret language.”
“The Old Tongue,” Romano said softly, nodding. “Yeah. We do.”
“Can you teach it to me? Please?” Freddy begged, rolling over onto Romano's lap. He was getting heavier; Romano tried to nudge him off, but Freddy just made puppy eyes at him, and Romano rolled his eyes instead. “Come on, Lovino! Please?”
“I can't,” Romano said, pushing Freddy off his lap. “We're born knowing it. It's not something you can teach.”
Freddy sat up and pouted, crossing his arms in front of him as he sulked. It was a position that Romano recognized-it was his own pout. He almost laughed; he was a bad influence on the kid, after all.
“Can you at least say something in it?” Freddy asked, looking up at Romano with pleading eyes. “Anything at all?”
“Oh, all right,” Romano said, crossing his own arms. “I'm just doing this to get you to shut up about it, okay? No more asking about it. It's a secret language, da-” he coughed, swallowing the curse word before it fully escaped. “Got it?”
Freddy nodded eagerly, and Romano cleared his throat. The Old Tongue hadn't been coming to him as easily lately.
Romano hesitated, looked at Freddy, and asked, “Wait, what do you want me to say?”
“Tell me you love me!” Freddy said, grinning. Romano tried not to roll his eyes, but he couldn't fight a grin of his own.
“All right,” he said, gearing up to switch to the Old Tongue. “I love you.”
Freddy stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. Romano blinked awkwardly. He'd never considered what the Old Tongue might sound like to a non-nation.
“That was so awesome!” Freddy shouted, startling Demeter-she scampered away into the kitchen. “Oh my gosh, Lovino, that was the coolest thing ever!” He threw his arms around Romano's neck and nearly knocked him over. “You're amazing!”
“Wh-what?” Romano stammered. “What did it sound like?”
“Like every language ever, all at once!” Freddy crowed. “Do it again, do it again!”
“Uh, I love you?” Romano said, in the Old Tongue. Freddy leapt off of Romano and whooped, spinning around in circles.
“Again, again!” Freddy sang, his smile wide enough to split his face.
Romano started to crack up, but managed one more, “I love you!” Freddy flopped backwards onto the floor and rolled around, stricken with delight. Romano was laughing too hard to breathe-the human-feeling in his chest was enormous and wonderful. Was this what Prussia had meant?
“I love you!” Freddy said, using Italian, “I love you! I love you! I love you!” English, French, Spanish. “I love you! I love you! I love you!” Freddy laughed, beaming at the ceiling-Japanese, Greek, German. “And a million more! All at once! That's the best thing ever! You have to teach me, Lovino! You have to!”
Romano couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer him. Freddy tossed a couch pillow at him, and Romano chucked it back. They plunged into a sudden pillow fight; when Freddy found that Romano had all of the pillows, he turned it into a tickle fight.
When Canada came down to check on them and get dinner started five hours later, he found them fast asleep in a pillow fort, a grin still tugging at the corner of Romano's mouth.
Chapter Guide: ( Ch. 1) ( Ch. 2) ( Ch. 3) ( Ch. 4) ( Ch. 5) ( Ch. 6) ( Ch. 7) ( Ch. 8) ( Ch. 9) ( Ch. 10) ( Ch. 11) ( Ch. 12) ( Ch. 13) ( Ch. 14) ( Ch. 15) ( Ch. 16) ( Ch. 17) ( Ch. 18) ( Ch. 19) ( Ch. 20) ( Ch. 21) ( Ch. 22) ( Ch. 23) ( Ch. 24)
Author/Artist: MoyaKite
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Mainly Prussia, Canada, Romano, and Freddy (little kid!OC), but almost everyone could end up in here eventually. (In this chapter: Freddy, Prussia, Canada, Romano.) Also Canada/Prussia.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Fluff, discussions of mortality, potential for future character death, increasing angst (although there is still fluff, it may be a little bittersweet) In this chapter, illness and caretaker fluff, as well as a healthy dose of cuteness.
Summary: Simply put, Prussia goes backpacking across Europe and finds a kid. What sort of a dad would Prussia be, anyway?
Author's Notes: The original (which started on the kink meme) is here. I hope that you all enjoy the chapter!
Prussia lay in bed, curled up around his pillow. The inside of his right elbow itched unbearably. The skin there was red and thick like a scab-he wasn't allowed to scratch it. The doctors called it eczema; the medicine was a steroid cream that hurt his pride. He tried to ignore it. There was a pain just behind his left eye, like a needle was slowly grinding away into the bone. He'd already taken as much acetaminophen as he was allowed to; the pain hadn't dulled at all, although his fever had fallen from 40ºC at last. He was covered in a thick, cold sweat.
“Mattie,” Prussia called weakly. His body ached-from his fingers to his arms to his shoulder to his back, everything ached. He couldn't breathe around the pain and tightness in his lungs; he coughed and coughed into the pillow. When he looked down at it, he saw some blood flecks; he was too weak and exhausted to shudder, but he lifted his head as much as he could. “Mattie,” Prussia called again. It brought out another round of coughs that shook his body so badly he trembled at the end of them.
Canada came to the door, a steaming mug in his hand.
“Peppermint tea,” Canada said, setting it down on a coaster on the bedside table. He sat down beside Prussia, grabbing the thermometer. Prussia opened his mouth obediently, closing his eyes as he waited for the familiar beep that signaled bad news. The inside of his elbow itched and itched; the piercing pain behind his left eye was without mercy.
“Thirty-eight degrees,” Canada said, worry furrowing his eyebrows. “How are you feeling?”
Like sh-t, Prussia didn't say.
“I'm not freezing, and the room isn't quite on fire at the moment,” Prussia said, wishing his voice would just be steady. He hid the blood on the pillow as he adjusted position slightly. “Better than before,” he said. It was a struggle to keep the tickle in his throat from becoming another cough; his throat was dry, too dry.
“You need to eat dinner tonight, or you're not going to be able to take your iron pill,” Canada said softly. “Do you feel up to eating?”
No, Prussia bit his tongue at the sudden swell of nausea. “Maybe,” he said. He had to remind himself not to scratch his arm. “What're we having?”
Canada looked at him for a long, slow moment.
“You threw up the soup,” Canada said. Prussia remembered hobbling to the bathroom, and Canada holding his hair out of his face; bile rose in his throat. “And the bread, and the cereal.”
“I kept down the mac and cheese,” Prussia replied. The cough finally rose out of his chest, and he hacked and gasped into the pillow, willing his body to stop convulsing. Canada nodded.
“That's why we're having mac and cheese again tonight,” Canada said, getting to his feet. “Drink your tea; it'll help your throat.”
Prussia tried to snatch the bottom of Canada's shirt, but his hand was too slow; he reached in vain, finally letting his hand drop. Canada looked down at him, concern all over his face.
“Do you want some company?” Canada asked.
“When I'm having way too much fun all alone?” Prussia asked, laughing weakly. The laughter quickly turned into coughs, and he paused for a moment to focus on breathing. “Nah. Don't worry.”
Canada sighed, sitting back down on the bed.
“We've been married for more than a year, Gil,” Canada said. “I know that's your code phrase for, 'Please play video games with me.' What game do you want to play?”
Prussia suppressed the urge to chuckle; his lungs still hurt from his last attempt.
“Well, Freddy did want us to be secret agents; we need all the secret codes we can get,” Prussia said. His throat tickled; his arm itched; his eye hurt. He swallowed, hoping to ease at least his throat. “I feel like being an air pirate today,” Prussia continued. “Let's beat Skies of Arcadia again.”
As Canada set up the TV at the foot of the bed, Prussia slowly and painstakingly sat up. Every bone and joint in his body resisted-the ache made the pain behind his eye flare up, and he gritted his teeth, easing back down. When Canada came to sit on the bed, Prussia lifted his head, and Canada scooted his legs under Prussia's head, placing his own pillow on his lap so Prussia could keep clutching his own as he settled down.
“You're the best, Mattie,” Prussia mumbled, his eyes slipping closed as the opening music washed over him. He coughed into his pillow, and Canada stroked his hair.
“Which save file do you want to start from?” Canada asked. Prussia had a habit of saving constantly, usually in different save files; when they went back to games, they could skip around and play only the parts he liked best.
“The beginning,” Prussia answered. “It's been forever.”
“And you're only two days into swine flu,” Canada said, nodding as Prussia opened his eyes and looked up at him. “I wonder if we can beat the whole game in a week?”
“Freddy's never played it all the way through with us,” Prussia said, frowning a little. “Should we wait for him?”
“Nah,” Canada said. “I think he should play it on his own when he's a little older.”
“Okay,” Prussia said. His arm itched, and the pain behind his eye was almost blinding. “We should've let him name us Team Awesome.”
Canada chuckled.
“Can you imagine?” Canada asked. “Hello, this is Matthew of Team Awesome.” Canada laughed and selected New Game.
“Aye, matey,” Prussia replied, effecting his best impression of England from his pirate days. “But now it be time for air piracy!”
~
“Thanks for coming,” Canada told Romano. Romano looked to one side, not quite meeting Canada's eyes; Canada looked disheveled and exhausted. “He's through the worst of it, I hope, but it's dangerous for little kids if they catch it, and Freddy is going out of his mind with boredom.”
Romano nodded, and Canada ushered him into the house.
“I'll see you later, then, eh?” Canada said, raising a hand in parting as he turned away. “Freddy's in the living room. Have fun!”
“Good luck,” Romano muttered under his breath. Canada vanished up the stairs, and Romano shut the door behind him. He sank against the wood for a moment, closing his eyes.
Even Veneciano didn't remember what exactly had happened to Grandpa Rome. To Veneciano, it was as though he'd disappeared. He'd managed to make himself forget the lesions that blossomed across Grandpa Rome's shoulders and chest, the foul-smelling pus that had oozed from them. The way his muscles and bones and joints had given up. The way that every illness lasted a little too long, and grew a little too rough.
With the miracle of modern medicine, they were making Prussia last. Grandpa Rome had only made it through three such illnesses before succumbing to the inevitable. How long until Prussia's body gave up? There was something human about the exhaustion that had begun to seep into Romano's spine-something that scared Romano.
“Romano!” Freddy shouted. Romano stiffened, opening his eyes as Freddy threw his arms around Romano's knees. “So you're my babysitter? That's so awesome!”
“Hey, Freddy,” Romano said, ruffling his hair. Freddy beamed, and Romano's heart clenched. Freddy wouldn't live forever, either. “What're we gonna do first?”
“I was playing with Demeter,” Freddy explained, taking Romano by the hand and leading him into the living room. Demeter was curled up in a ball on the easy chair, fast asleep; Freddy pouted. “Well, we can just talk,” Freddy said.
“Are you on winter break yet?” Romano asked. It was freezing this far north; Romano wished they could've all moved to Italy, instead. Freddy let go of Romano's hand to flop on the couch, sinking into the cushions.
“Yeah,” Freddy said. “It took forever, but I still can't believe I'm halfway through first grade. That's what Uncle Al calls it-they call it grade one here.”
“Are you still studying languages?” Romano asked. Freddy sighed.
“Not so much in school,” Freddy admitted. “But Dad and Papa take me on day trips where we practice different languages, and I've been practicing kanji by emailing Kiku. Oh, and Uncle Al comes up all the time to practice everything with me.”
“Doesn't that idiot only speak English?” Romano asked. Freddy chuckled.
“Only when other nations are around,” Freddy said, leaning in conspiratorially. “He knows every language, Lovino! Like, every single one! He says that it's thanks to his immigrants.” Freddy paused for a moment, screwing up his eyes in thought, before continuing. “You know, he told me that you all have a secret language.”
“The Old Tongue,” Romano said softly, nodding. “Yeah. We do.”
“Can you teach it to me? Please?” Freddy begged, rolling over onto Romano's lap. He was getting heavier; Romano tried to nudge him off, but Freddy just made puppy eyes at him, and Romano rolled his eyes instead. “Come on, Lovino! Please?”
“I can't,” Romano said, pushing Freddy off his lap. “We're born knowing it. It's not something you can teach.”
Freddy sat up and pouted, crossing his arms in front of him as he sulked. It was a position that Romano recognized-it was his own pout. He almost laughed; he was a bad influence on the kid, after all.
“Can you at least say something in it?” Freddy asked, looking up at Romano with pleading eyes. “Anything at all?”
“Oh, all right,” Romano said, crossing his own arms. “I'm just doing this to get you to shut up about it, okay? No more asking about it. It's a secret language, da-” he coughed, swallowing the curse word before it fully escaped. “Got it?”
Freddy nodded eagerly, and Romano cleared his throat. The Old Tongue hadn't been coming to him as easily lately.
Romano hesitated, looked at Freddy, and asked, “Wait, what do you want me to say?”
“Tell me you love me!” Freddy said, grinning. Romano tried not to roll his eyes, but he couldn't fight a grin of his own.
“All right,” he said, gearing up to switch to the Old Tongue. “I love you.”
Freddy stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. Romano blinked awkwardly. He'd never considered what the Old Tongue might sound like to a non-nation.
“That was so awesome!” Freddy shouted, startling Demeter-she scampered away into the kitchen. “Oh my gosh, Lovino, that was the coolest thing ever!” He threw his arms around Romano's neck and nearly knocked him over. “You're amazing!”
“Wh-what?” Romano stammered. “What did it sound like?”
“Like every language ever, all at once!” Freddy crowed. “Do it again, do it again!”
“Uh, I love you?” Romano said, in the Old Tongue. Freddy leapt off of Romano and whooped, spinning around in circles.
“Again, again!” Freddy sang, his smile wide enough to split his face.
Romano started to crack up, but managed one more, “I love you!” Freddy flopped backwards onto the floor and rolled around, stricken with delight. Romano was laughing too hard to breathe-the human-feeling in his chest was enormous and wonderful. Was this what Prussia had meant?
“I love you!” Freddy said, using Italian, “I love you! I love you! I love you!” English, French, Spanish. “I love you! I love you! I love you!” Freddy laughed, beaming at the ceiling-Japanese, Greek, German. “And a million more! All at once! That's the best thing ever! You have to teach me, Lovino! You have to!”
Romano couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer him. Freddy tossed a couch pillow at him, and Romano chucked it back. They plunged into a sudden pillow fight; when Freddy found that Romano had all of the pillows, he turned it into a tickle fight.
When Canada came down to check on them and get dinner started five hours later, he found them fast asleep in a pillow fort, a grin still tugging at the corner of Romano's mouth.
Chapter Guide: ( Ch. 1) ( Ch. 2) ( Ch. 3) ( Ch. 4) ( Ch. 5) ( Ch. 6) ( Ch. 7) ( Ch. 8) ( Ch. 9) ( Ch. 10) ( Ch. 11) ( Ch. 12) ( Ch. 13) ( Ch. 14) ( Ch. 15) ( Ch. 16) ( Ch. 17) ( Ch. 18) ( Ch. 19) ( Ch. 20) ( Ch. 21) ( Ch. 22) ( Ch. 23) ( Ch. 24)