Title: When You Need Me

Summary: Canada has the flu and goes to England for comfort.

Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.

A/N: This can be read as either family/friendship or as pre-slash – or everything rolled into one. I really don't mind. ^o^ I was in one of those moods when i wrote this that i simply could not make my mind up about how it should go. Hence i couldn't care what slant you put on it. All that matters is if you enjoy it. If you do I've done my job!!

…

Matthew had never liked being ill, and when he was he always sought comfort.

Not from Alfred though. Alfred was awful when it came to comforting. He was completely useless at it.

So instead, when he felt himself coming down with the flu, Matthew ran to the one person he was confident he could get come comfort from (which wasn't France because he was convinced that the last time they met he was being mentally undressing by him during the conference which made him blush with embarrassment and want to hide in a hole and die).

So, with all that in mind, he found himself stood knee deep in white snow on Arthur's door step .

Matthew knocked a few times before leaning against the door frame, all his strength having vanished or been used on his hasty trip from Canada to England. A minute passed before the sound of the door being unlocked could be heard. Matthew felt relieved with the sound and when the door opened and Arthur stood looking at him, confused, Matthew couldn't help but smile.

"Matthew?" He asked as his thick eyebrows furrowed together. Matthew would have, if his energy permitted it, jumped with joy. Arthur had not mixed him up with his brother, Alfred, like the other nations did, especially Cuba. Arthur, though, could see Matthew wasn't well and as he reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, Matthew began to slid down the door frame towards the ground.

Arthur caught him as his legs completely gave way. Matthew felt Arthur's arms encircle him before being lifted into the air as though he was a bride at a wedding. He was carried inside Arthur's home and could hear the door closing too behind them. Arthur had carried him a few times in the same style in the past. There was a time Matthew remembered when he had fallen over and grazed his knees. He was still very young at the time and the injuries hurt him terribly. Tears had formed in his eyes and he gave a quiet sob as his hair covered his eyes. He never expected Arthur to leave Alfred and go to his aid.

Arthur knelt down in front of him and placed two fingers lightly beneath his chin so he could tilt his head up. When he saw Arthur's concerned face and emerald green eyes full of sympathy, Matthew became quieter. Arthur ignored Alfred's demands for attention as he delicately brushed grit and dirt from the wounds. Matthew winced but never complained. For once, he had Arthur's attention, not Alfred.

"Can you walk?" Arthur asked as he brushed away a tear from Matthew's cheekbone with his thumb.

"No". Matthew said quietly. He was now upset at himself for seeming so weak.

Arthur placed a arm beneath Matthew's legs and another around his back and picked him up from the ground. Matthew wrapped his arms tightly around Arthur's neck and buried his head in the crook of his neck, scared.

"Aww, no fair Arthur!" Alfred pouted. "I want to be carried".

"Maybe later Alfred. Lets go home so I can't sort Matthew out".

"What's he … eeewww! Matty – your legs are bleeding. Your going to die!" Alfred shouted, laughing.

"I don't want to die!" Matthew screeched, making Arthur recoil and his ears ring. He remembered to be responsible and not to swear in front of Matthew and Alfred, so he instead swore over and over again in his mind. He also made a mental note that he might be giving himself a stomach ulcer with the amount of times he's wanted to swear or curse something and not been able too. When he saw the two younger nations though, Alfred beaming and Matthew curled up in his arms, he realised it was damn well worth it.

"You're not going to die". Arthur soothed Matthew while shooting Alfred a look. Alfred just smirked.

"Really?" He asked.

"Really". Arthur answered before kissing his forehead lightly. "I wouldn't let that happen".

Matthew, with the memory fresh in his mind, sank into Arthur's arms and relaxed. He closed his eyes and rested his head heavily against Arthur's shoulder as Arthur made his way hastily to a guest room. When he got to the room, he kicked it open with his foot before helping Matthew to get out his jacket and boots and into the guest bed. Matthew, relaxed by the familiar surroundings, sank into the mattress and snuggled under the covers, leaving only the top of his head poking out.

Arthur gave a small chuckle, silently wishing Alfred had been this easy to look after. Matthew was always the better behaved and calmer of the two. Matthew was also the more loving one.

Arthur disappeared when he decided that there was something missing from the scene in front of him, but he returned within a few minutes, a old, faded, moth eaten teddy in his hands. Matthew's eyes went wide. "Y … y … you kept that? After all these years?" He asked.

"Yes". Arthur smiled as he handed the old teddy to Matthew. "I remember you being very fond of this stuffed creature".

Arthur was in the process of turning the house upside down looking for that damn teddy again. Matthew had forgotten where he had left it, and with the prospect of having lost the fuzzy version of the holy grail, he teared up and started sniffling. He would have started sobbing his wide eyes red raw if it hadn't been for Arthur jumping into action and vowing to find his Lord Fuzzy Highness.

Matthew had followed him from room to room, watching him turning furniture over and scaling the wall to look on top of shelves. Arthur constantly asked himself how would Matthew have deposited his teddy on top of one of the shelves that reached the ceiling of the room, but he knew the moment he didn't look was the moment sod's law was going to strike.

Arthur's cheeks turned pink with effort and he continued his search. Finally, and very much unintentionally, he found the teddy. He stopped to get a drink and he walked into the kitchen to get a mug, he tripped over and smacked his head off the side, giving himself a black eye.

He would have some explaining to do to France. France, who would stick true to form, would insist it was a lovers tiff. What lover? Arthur groaned.

Matthew was happy that he had found the teddy bear, but he didn't just take the bear and leave. Instead, when he saw Arthur's hand covering his eye and his head lowered, Matthew went up to him and hugged him as tight as he could. Arthur rose his head and looked at him before sweeping him up into his arms and resting him in his lap. Matthew happily sat down with the bear in hand in Arthur's lap and snuggled up against him, drifting off to sleep in the matter of minutes.

Just to see the final result was worth destroying half the house and giving himself a black eye that would be terribly hard to explain.

The final result was defiantly worth it.

Arthur handed the teddy to Matthew, which promptly disappeared beneath the covers as Matthew held it tightly to his chest. The sight was heart breaking for Arthur. Matthew was grown up; but Arthur still saw him as the small nation that he once took care off.

Arthur leant over him and kissed his forehead lightly before brushing his hand through Matthew's dirty blonde hair. "Call if you need anything".

"Thank you Arthur". Matthew yawned as his eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep.

Arthur felt like crying at the sight before him. Swallowing the lump that had formed in this throat, he made sure the Matthew was buried beneath the covers snugly before smoothing them out and, placing one last kiss on the top of his head, left the room.

As he left, he spared the sleeping form one last look.

"Sleep well, Matthew", Arthur said with a sad smile.

End.

A/N: It's a crime that there are not more stories around these two!