An Announcement from D.S.W.N.F.O.S::. Hiya! This is just another annoying author note that you've probably seen millions of times before (if you haven't then lucky you). This is my first fic and I really hope that you enjoy it (if you don't, that's okay with me, I still loves yous all…yeah, that was creepy). Please R&R and thanks for at least reading this little paragraph (it's not really paragraph now that I think about it).


Morning Lullabies

There I laid in bed with a small metal trashcan against my chest and a thermometer suck between my lips. My head ached, I could barely hold any food down and sweat beads laid across my forehead for no reason. I felt like utter complete crap. A hand came around and pulled the thermometer out of my mouth; I waited for the results.

"Yep, Norge, you definitely have a fever," the blonde beside him said as he studied the instrument.

"I would have never guessed," I said sarcastically, "how high is it?"

"102.5 degrees," he answered. I knew something was wrong with that reading.

"Moron, read the Celsius measurements instead of the Fahrenheit; I'm not that good at converting." Stupid Americans and their measurements; why couldn't they be like everyone else instead of wasting time making their own damn system? I thought, but it made my headache even worse.

"39.5 degrees," the man read again before placing the thermometer on the table beside me and patting the top of my head; every now and then picking at stray blonde strands of hair. There was an urge inside me that wanted to punch him in the gut or maybe break his nose like I've done many times before by kicking him square in the face, but I wasn't really in the mood right now. "Don't worry; you'll be better in no time." I reached up and pinched the top of his hand; making him flinch and pull the hand back to his own chest as if he were wounded.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Danmark," I snapped at him before grabbing the glass of water on the table. As soon as I took the first sip and swallowed my stomach felt irritated and something was forcing its way up my throat. I cupped my hand over my mouth, pulled the trashcan up to my face and threw up. Even in the mist of this I could feel a large hand being placed on the center of my back and rubbing in a small circle. A small murmur in the background kept repeating the same thing over and over again, but I couldn't hear it over the sound of material hitting against the metal. My throat burned from the constant up-chucks; this has been the fifteenth time that I've thrown up this morning and I couldn't even keep liquids down. A foul taste had invaded my mouth and it was all I could taste. Tiny tears started to spring from my eyes as I tried to endure the pain; I kept my head in the trashcan so that Danmark wouldn't see how weak I was even if it was nasty. He continued to rub my back and repeat the same thing he had said before except this time I could hear it.

"It's gonna be okay, it's alright, I'm right here," he whispered as he moved his hand from my back to the top of my head. I slowly lifted my head up and looked at him; a smile of sympathy appeared on his face as he ruffled up my hair. "It's okay, Norge, I'm gonna take care of you, but first…" Danmark trailed off and pulled a napkin out of his pocket. "You should get that crap off your mouth." I could feel the heat rise up in my cheek from both embarrassment and anger. Quickly, I snatched the napkin with one hand and punched him hard on the left side of his face.

"J-Just shut up, retard!" I spat out as I began to clean my face with the napkin. After Danmark recovered from the blow he looked at me and grinned; oh how I want to smack that stupid, goofy, big grin off his face.

"Liked I said before, I'm going to stay here until you're better. I'm kind of like your nurse, male nurse that is," he laughed. All I could do was shake my head and fall into my pillows. A mutter escaped from under my breath

"This is going to be one hell of a day."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, now be quiet, you're giving me a bigger headache than what I already have."


To tell the truth, it was kind of nice to have Danmark as my private servant for the day; I should've gotten sick a long time ago. He always had an upbeat attitude (it was annoying though) and never groaned when I repeatedly told him to do something (I tried to give him as much work as possible just to try to annoy him, but my plan failed…as always) The only thing wrong was that Danmark wasn't the quietest person in the world and sometimes it took him a rather long time to do simple tasks.

For example, at one point I felt like I might die from starvation, but I knew that I couldn't keep anything down long enough for it to digest completely. Still, I needed something to eat, so I ordered Danmark to make me some soup; confident that I could keep down liquids now, besides, don't most people eat soup when they're sick? He nodded before leaving the room in one quick movement; I thought that it would only take him a couple of minutes at the pace he was going. However, he returned an hour later with the soup that I had asked for AN HOUR AGO! How the hell could it have taken him an hour to make a simple bowl of soup?

"What took you so damn long?" I questioned with an irritated look on my face.

"I…um…c-couldn't," he stuttered as he looked down at the bowl of soup, "o-open the can." A slight blush appeared on Danmark's face when he said the last part. No wonder he was embarrassed; he was the supposed King of Scandinavia and he couldn't even open a stupid can of soup.

"You couldn't open the can, so where did the soup come from, anko?"

"Well, I couldn't find the can opener, so I decided to ask someone else to open it for me. In the end I found…" There was a small pause before Danmark continued; regretting what he was going to say. "Sve…and he opened it." I couldn't help, but chuckle a little bit since Danmark hated Sweden so much and now he had to ask him for a simple, unnecessary favor.

"Let me guess, he also made the soup for you too, right?" I mocked him.

"No!" He defended himself as if he had been preparing for this moment. "Technically Campbell's soup company made the soup; he just heated it up for me. He didn't trust me with making any type of food." Danmark pouted a bit, but quickly got over it and handed the food to me. "Hope you enjoy it."

So I laid there and ate the warm tomato soup that contained orange smiling fish; Goldfish I assumed. Although I prefer creamy potato soup over tomato, whenever I got tomato I used to love putting Goldfish in it and watch them shift around whenever I moved the spoon. It was almost like they were swimming in the red mixture in order to avoid being eaten by the likes of me. This struck me as odd though.

"I see you found the fish." I whipped my head around to see Danmark sitting next to me with his goofy smile plastered on his face. "Sve didn't believe me when I told him you liked Goldfish in your tomato soup. He thought that it was too childish and you would never eat something like that. After he left I went out and bought some Goldfish and stuck a few in your soup. Plus I added some cheddar cheese and waited until it melted into the soup so you couldn't tell. I thought it might put a smile on your face. Remember when we were younger and I tried to steal the Goldfish from your bag. You'd always get really mad at me, but the next day I would always buy you a bag to replace the one that I ate." He pointed at one of the soggy fish; the only one left that actually had a smile on its face. That was Danmark; he was the one who loved putting little surprises in some of the strangest things. Even though it was strange to think this, I thought there was a close resemblance between the Goldfish and Danmark. For one, they both seemed pretty airheaded. Most importantly though, as I stared into the bowl, they both had the same smile; even when they were in the shittiest situations they were still smiling through it all. The piece Goldfish was still smiling even though it was turning into mush and was getting ready to be eaten. The man beside me kept smiling even though he has been through some pretty tough battles that he couldn't win, he smiled even when nothing was going as planned and he still smiled when I repeatedly insulted to the point in which I thought he would burst out into tears, but he didn't. Maybe this was just one of the many traits that I loved about him. He just kept on smiling through it all. This was just one of the few things that made me smile.

For the first time today, I was able to keep my lunch down.


"Anko, you can go home now. You've done enough for me today," I exclaimed as I glanced over at the clock; 10:15 pm. Instead of a relieved exhale and a quick goodnight, Danmark stood in the middle of my floor and shook his head in disagreement.

"No, Norge, I want to make sure you make it through the night alright," he said. "Can't I just spend the night here?"

"I don't have a room set up for you or anything, so you should better head-."

"I don't need a bed; I can sleep in this chair if I have to. Just let me stay, Norway, please?" He pleaded with puppy-dog eyes. Most people would think that Danmark wouldn't be able to pull of the puppy-dog look since he was a grown man; man were they wrong.

"Fine, fine; there are some pillows and blankets in the closet if you need them," I muttered before he nearly choked me with his bear hug. "Get…off of me, you…moron," I tried to spit out. Finally he noticed what he was doing and let go of me. "You really need to stop doing that to me," I snapped at him. Danmark didn't really mind since he was already pulling out two pillows and a blanket for himself. It didn't take him more than a few minutes to get himself situated in the chair, but before he would fall asleep he would always ask the same question over and over again.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"I don't need anything but sleep, Danmark! Please let me go to sleep!" I finally yelled out in frustration as I threw the sheets tightly over my head. After that I didn't hear another word out of him before I fell asleep.


I awoke from my sleep to find myself in the room by myself; the chair next to the bed was empty except for the pillows and the blanket. He must have left after I yelled at him, I thought, maybe he decided to sleep on the couch since the chair was too uncomfortable for him. I pulled my feet over the side of the bed, hopped down and left the room into the hallway. The house seemed darker and eerier than the usual lights that lit the halls at night. The sound of my foot patting against the wood flooring was the only noise I could hear. This was too creepy.

"Danmark? Are you here?" I managed to say aloud as I peeked into the living room. No one answered, but the smell of rotten fish filled my nostrils and I heard a grunting noise on the other side of the couch. "Danmark, i-is that you?" I asked again before peering over the back of the couch. Instead of what I was hoping was Danmark there was someone else laying on the couch coughing and gagging on something. His body had these little black boils all over and larger ones on his neck and arms. One of his black hands were placed on his stomach; the other over his mouth. One of the boils on his popped open and a mixture of blood and pus spilled from it and all over his cheek. As soon as it split open an awful odor came from his body. Suddenly the man started to gag again until he started puking blood all over himself; now a bloody mess. I backed away from the sofa with a hand over my own mouth so that I wouldn't scream. Even though they were shallow when I first came in here I could tell when the man had stopped breathing altogether; the whole house was deafly silent. I slowly walked back over to see if the man was really dead; in the end he was. A noise suddenly filled the house and I realized it was my own scream; not because this man looked like a horrible monster and was dead.

It was because this man was Danmark.


"Wake up, Norge! You have to wake up!" The sound of my own scream and the shaking of my body finally snapped me back into reality. I was in my room and Danmark was clutching the front of my shirt; a look of fear across his usually face. "What happened, Norway? Are you okay?" He asked urgently. Slippery tears ran down my face as I pressed my face into the larger man's chest and held onto his shirt. I wanted to tell him what I had seen, but when I tried all that came out were short gasps and hiccups. Was I really this torn up over that nightmare? His hand was already rubbing the back of my head as he pulled me closer. The warmth of his body felt so good, but I felt kind of bad that my wet tears were getting over his shirt. I just kept myself in that position until he moved and bent down so that we were at the same height. "Is there anything I can do for you?" He asks too many questions, I said to myself as I stared at him.

"Can you sleep in my bed tonight?" I sounded as if I were a child asking its parents if they could sleep together during a thunderstorm. "You know, in case I have anymore nightmares." Heat rose up in my cheeks once more as he ruffled up my hair up like he did this morning.

"Whatever will make you feel better," he exclaimed.


Danmark few asleep long before I did. His arm was wrapped around my waist, so I was pretty close to his body. Instead of trying to make myself go to sleep, I studied Danmark for a few minutes. I wanted to forget what he looked like in the nightmare and I wanted to remember what he looked like now in case he changed in the future. He looked like a Danmark I would want to remember; not moving around and causing trouble with Sweden, his hair still impossible looking (his hair is impossible), and a gentle grin on his face. No blood, no black dots, nothing of those sorts. I wanted Danmark to stay like this forever.

Now that I think about it, I haven't even thanked Danmark for all he has done for me; not just for today, but all those other times in my life where he would put a smile on my face with the simplest things. Even though a rarely give a real smile, I probably wouldn't be smiling as much if it weren't for him and all I do to him is tease and fight him. What if I do reach that point where I push Danmark over the edge and he leaves me? What will I do then? This question kept running through my head and I couldn't answer it; I didn't want to find out though.

I tried to move without shifting so much that Danmark would wake up. Making sure his eyes were closed first, I gave him a gentle kiss on his lips and then buried myself back into his chest. "Takk, Danmark. Jeg elsker deg" I whispered before going to sleep; hoping he wouldn't have heard what I had said, but I swore that I heard him say something before I fell into unconsciousness.

"Jeg elsker også dig," a voice whispered back.


My second dream wasn't as bad as the first; the usual flashbacks of my Viking days beside Danmark and Sweden. All seemed the same until I heard strange music fill the air.

"Hush, little Norway, don't say a word, Denmark's gonna buy you a mockingbird." I broke out of my dream and opened my eyes to see Danmark rubbing the top of my head as he sang some song that he changed the lyrics to. I wanted to tell him to shut up, but instead I closed my eyes and acted as if I were still asleep.

"And if that mockingbird don't sing, Denmark's gonna buy you a plastic ring." That defiantly wasn't the way I learned the song, but it was fun listening to him trying to attempt it. "And if that plastic ring…looks bad, Denmark's gonna buy you a…big…strong man." Now I'm thinking, what the hell? "And since you won't like that man because I'm already bigger and better than him as you can see, Denmark's gonna buy you a big TV, and if that TV doesn't show you the whole wide world, Denmark's gonna buy you…the world-."

"World and world are the same word so they can't rhyme," I interrupted the song and looked up at Danmark. "Plus, those lyrics are completely wrong." He glanced down and laughed.

"I couldn't remember the words, so I said whatever came into my mind first." I just shook my head and sighed.

"How can I stand an idiot like you?" I muttered as I sat up in bed. I felt ten times better than I did yesterday at least.

"Aww, come on," Danmark chuckled, "I heard what you said last night." Ah shit, he did hear me, I said to myself when I felt his arms wrap around my waist and his soft lips press against my cheek.

I guess the best cure for sickness is morning lullabies.


D.S.W.N.F.O.S::. Oh my god, this sucked so much, but I wrote it for a friend of mine before she left. Here are some translations of the words above.

Takk, Danmark. Jeg elsker deg-Thank you, Denmark. I love you.

Jeg elsker også dig-I love you, too.

If the translations are wrong, I'm so very sorry, I was using translator on Google.

The sickness in Norway's dream was the Black Plague (I'm sure we all know what that is). It wiped out almost 60% of Norway's population.

Okay, that's all for now. Sorry for making you read this sucky fic!