England watched the German sleep for a few minutes, still letting his fingers comb through his soft, sweaty hair. Once he was sure Ludwig was calmly sleeping, he stood and quietly left the room. With the door neatly closed behind him, Arthur let his mind go straight to the task of tea and food.

"Let's see... a nice, herbal tea with some mint should do his stomach good. Not sure if he has any, though..." the Brit mused, strolling into the orderly kitchen. He shifted through the organized basket of teabags and checked over boxes, but none of them were up to his standards. "Tch... Germany, leave it to you to have everything but some tea with mint in it... If I had my equipment, I could-" England cut himself of as his brilliance soaked in. He flipped open his cell phone as he moved on to checking over ingredients available to him for either concoction.

"Moshi, moshi," a familiar voice answered at the third ring, as usual. The Brit couldn't help but grin to himself. Good old Kiku, reliable as ever.

"Ah, Japan! Are you busy? I need someone to run a few quick errands for me, if that's possible," Arthur hummed, hefting a potato in his hand and checking it over.

"Of course, England-san. I am able to assist you. What is it you are needing?"

"Well, I'll need my supplies for tea-making from my hotel room, some fresh mint, yarrow, elderberry flowers, chicken breast, parsley, and... some celery. And if you could, some cough syrup that's not cherry flavored. Once you've got all that, come drop it off at Germany's house. The twat's sick, so the sooner, the better," the Brit fired off, ticking things off with his fingers as he gathered up the ingredients he did find in the impeccably organized kitchen and refrigerator. He heard a pen scribbling from the other side of the phone.

"Germnay-san is ill?" the Japanese man questioned, a speck of concern lacing through his monotone for a moment. "Should I notify the others?"

"No, no, don't spread it around. I had to hold him down to keep the muscle-head from getting up and doing his paperwork. He'll be fine soon enough, and we don't want everyone getting worked up and making a fuss over this." A wry smile tugged on his lips after a second as he added, "The poor sod wouldn't be able to get a moment of peace and quiet if anyone else showed up from the meeting... Especially any Italians."

The Japanese man gave a small sound of understanding. They both knew how loud and annoying Romano could be, most notably when either German brother was in the room. He'd abuse his set of lungs for hours if it meant being a jerk to a certain 'Potato Bastard'. Neither of them would put it past Italy to try and hobble all the way up to Berlin to see his sick friend, either, which though touching, would end badly for them both. Germany wouldn't get a second of quiet and would most likely be babied and force-fed pasta until he was strong enough to force the brunette out of the room and stop the concerned babble. With Feliciano's already damaged condition, he was in no position to take care of anyone, anyways.

"I will be over as soon as possible," Kiku hummed, seeming satisfied for now with what he knew about the situation. "I believe a 'See you soon' would be appropriate?"

"Yes, Japan, I'll see you soon," the Brit chuckled lightly, always a little amused at how polite the shorter man could be. Even with friends, he was so blatantly polite and yet, it got to be quite endearing after a while. Closing his phone neatly, Arthur busied himself with preparing other things. He cleaned and diced a few potatoes, measured out chicken broth, and prepared the pot for the other ingredients. Putting some water on to boil, the island nation calmly slipped back into Germany's room. The scene had stayed the same except during some shifting, the cold compress had fallen off Ludwig's brow.

Arthur re-wet the rag from a basin of cool water he'd drawn and left on the nightstand. After shifting the blankets a little, he let the moist cloth run over pale skin that was sticky with sweat. The small shudder was barely detectable, and England would have missed it if he wasn't touching the other. The German was still asleep, but his body seemed to relax more as it was given a chance to cool down. Softly smiling, England tucked the other back in, making sure there was enough space for a little air to circulate under the covers before dousing the small towel back in the basin.

The doorbell chimed as he wrung the fabric out. "Ah! Japan must be here," he hummed gently. "Just keep sleeping, I'll handle this." He pressed the cool cloth back on Germany's forehead, waiting for the soft whimpering and shifting to stop before letting go. "I'll have some tea ready before you know it! You'll feel much better after that." Stretching his back, the Brit calmly sauntered back down to the door.

"England-san, I came as quickly as I could," the calm voice of the Japanese man hummed as he walked inside. In one hand was an ornate looking case, Arthur's tea set, and the other held a bag or groceries. "I brought the items you required, and I bought some fruits, as well. How is Germany-san?" The messy-haired blond could tell Japan was worried; no one had ever honestly seen Ludwig get sick, before. Prussia may have, but that likely before the taller blond became his own entity.

"He's resting, right now. You can go up and see him if you like," the Brit hummed, motioning for the dark-haired man to set the items on the table. "I, on the other hand, will begin on that tea... He should feel worlds better with some of this in his systems. It'll hopefully help ease his stomach enough to keep some soup down."

"Ah, no, I do not wish to intrude on Germany-san while he is not feeling well. I had better be going," Kiku bowed, polite as ever as he set the bags neatly on the kitchen table. "Turkey-san and Grease-san have both been very persistent about a visit, and I feel that now would be a good time to meet with them both. My flight will leave soon, and I do not wish to miss it. Please give Germany my regards when he wakes." And just like that, England was alone, again, unpacking his materials and slaving over two separate containers.

The pot was filled with chicken broth and potatoes, celery, parsley, and chicken breast joining the mixture as he let it cook. It was a small twist on chicken noodle soup, potatoes replacing the noodles, and he usually liked to serve it as more of a chowder. With the other sick, though, he felt leaving it as a soup would help it stay down easier. Once he was content with how the concoction in the pot was going along, he shifted his attention back to the mortar and pestle, grinding and squishing the herbs to relies their flavors and scents into the air. He added other ingredients to give it color and to help the fresh herb's flavors be enriched and complimented. Carefully spooning the mixture into a home-make tea bag, the Brit sealed it shut and checked over the soup.

Arthur stirred the broth carefully, checking to see that everything was cooked through and at a consistency he knew would be easy to chew and swallow. Pleased with his work, England set the burner on low to keep the pot warm before plucking a mug from the cabinet. The water had long since boiled, and he was letting it cool a little as he let the home-made blend steep. He wanted the tea to be hot, but it wouldn't do any good if Ludwig burned his tongue, or anything else if the tea was spilled. Cradling the mug carefully, the island nation returned to Germany's room, where the occupant was still sleeping.

"Wake up, mate," England hummed, slowly shaking the taller blond's shoulder after setting the steaming mug down on the nightstand. "I've got some nice tea ready for you. It'll help with your fever and settle your stomach." A tiny moan flitted out of the covers, blond eyelashes fluttering against flushed cheeks. "Kraut, wake up." It had been a while since the Brit had used that nickname, but it did the trick. Pale blue eyes peeled open, hazily looking at him. He watched them focus a little, Ludwig murmuring under his breath until recognition and a tiny smile took up his face.

"E-Engl-land..." the German sighed, shifting up a little on the cushions still propping up his shoulders and head. The Brit felt his heart melt a little at the rare sight. Even with his face flushed and his eyes tired and blurry, that grin was oddly sweet, and he almost wished he had a camera to capture the moment so he wouldn't think he'd just imagined it. Shoving the fuzzy, decidedly not amorous, feelings aside, he helped the other sit up more fully.

"I made some tea. It should help a lot, alright?" the shorter blond hummed, carefully holding the mug to Ludwig's lips. Sure, Germany was a strong, independent nation of his own and should be able to hold a cup and drink all by himself, but he was sick, and with how he wasn't able to comfortably lift his own head without help, the Brit felt it would be better to play it safe. "Be careful, it's still hot." Blinking slowly, the German nodded, his lips softly wrapping around the rim of the mug and taking a tiny sip. The room prickled with anxiety for a moment as Ludwig paused, taking in the flavor on his tongue.

"Mmmmm~!" the taller blond moaned softy, worming a hand out of the blankets to nudge the mug so he could take a larger swig of the liquid. Arthur sighed, letting out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding, before smiling gently. Germany drained the tea, though the Brit kept the pace slow enough that his stomach didn't reject it. He set the mug aside, noting the small disappointed look that settled on the flushed face.

"I take it you liked the tea, then," England smirked. "This is a home-made bend I whipped up myself. It should help your stomach to settle down enough to try and keep down something light." Thin fingers moved up to run through the sweat-soaked blond hair, and the German murmured contently. Arthur just smiled lightly, waiting to give the herbs time to work and to make sure the tea stayed down in the first place. It was evening, and if his judgment was right, then the larger nation hadn't really eaten anything all day.

"Feel like you can eat a little?" the Brit hummed softly. A low growl from Germany's stomach beat them both to it, and a small, sheepish grin took up his face. "Soup sound good? Japan brought some fruits over, too, if that sounds better." The German just shrugged a little, too comfortable to really remember the few seconds of panic before he'd settled down to sleep earlier. "Then soup's on! One moment, I'll bring some up." The island nation was through the door and down the hall before Ludwig had time to blink.

England's return was much calmer, the small bowl held neatly in his hands and a nervous expression on his face. Germany quirked his brow softly, sniffling for a moment before snatching another tissue to block his sneeze and the snot that would undoubtedly drip out with it. The Brit gave a sympathetic smile and set the soup down on the nightstand for a moment.

"It's chicken and potato soup. You don't need to eat too much, but seeing how you were this morning... At least try to eat some so you can regain your strength," Arthur crooned, passing Ludwig another tissue when the first wasn't enough to catch all of the snot. The German gave a tiny nod, binning the tissues before a sense of dread settled in the back of his mind.

'Alright... His cooking can't be that bad, ja?' his head whispered to itself. 'I-I mean, the scones looked like they'd been burned on accident that time, and he did say it wasn't his best batch... Th-the tea was good, so maybe... M-maybe...' The line of thought made his temples throb, and a small grimace spread across his face, his lips pressed closed to keep quiet. Germany's internal fearing of Arthur's cooking was brought to a halt by a soft hand rubbing his scalp. A whimper slipped out as his headache reared it's head, but the Brit's fingers soothed it away.

"Come on, mate," England sighed, smoothing back his hair lightly. "Just try it. Your taste buds aren't working too well, anyways." Ludwig could see the faint hurt in Arthur's eyes, oddly enough, and it made his chest ache with guilt. He knew the Brit had better things he could be doing with his time, but here he was, taking care of him. Hazy blue eyes flickered from the emerald pools down to the bowl, and despite the way part of him said he'd regret this, he parted his lips wide enough for a spoon.

It took a moment for the Brit to take the hint. A faint gleam sparked in his eyes as he nodded gently. Carefully, he set the soup on his lap and scooped up a spoonful, steam still wafting off the mushy potato chunk that accompanied the broth. Stealing his nerves, Germany opened his mouth a little wider as the spoon moved to enter his mouth. He tasted the metallic tang of the utensil as he sealed his lips around it, slowly feeling it pull out before the flavors spread across his tongue. He froze.