Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters in any way.

Story Summary: What starts as an exploration into Britain's birthday turns into an all out adventure when two younger countries come down with the same illness. Stuck at Britain's house can America and Canada survive chickenpox?

"Dude! Are you serious!?" One voice roared over all other sounds. Children, adults, and people standing in shop doors turned to look at the energetic dirty blonde walking down the street. That kind of raw energy was hard to come by in these cold, winter months.

"Well… Think about it. You have one every year. Have you ever thought about his before the other day?" A much softer voice questioned.

"Well, Duh! I thought he was…", that loud boisterous voice trailed off as if the owner of it was actually getting lost in his thoughts. It was a change from his normal day, quick fire attitude. He was actually thinking hard about the topic at hand, and the more he thought about it the sadder he looked. He reached up wiping off his sweaty brow while his eyes stared off at some distant place.

"What? You thought he what?" Seeing his brother quiet down into somberness was rare enough that Canada took his eyes off the street ahead. He turned to his left to see America staring at the ground as they walked. It was a rare sight to see the self proclaimed hero so lost in thought, "Oh. I get it. Did you think he wasn't inviting you?" Canada asked his brother. Canada shifted the gift bag he was holding from his right to his left hand and absentmindedly started to scratch his left arm through his red and white sweater.

America shrugged his shoulders, and his glasses slid from the bridge of his nose. It made the nation look quite pathetic actually, "He can get so upset over birthdays." America put his hand on his side and scratched through his fighter jacket. He'd started itching in that particular spot earlier in the day. He chalked it up to the trip.

"Just yours." Canada piped in.

"You know you did the same thing too! It's not like your part of United Kingdom of Great Britain anymore. You don't have to drag him by his ear to YOUR birthday every year." America huffed a bit resentful.

"Yeah, but it was different with me. You were the instigator. So you get blamed for me being rebellious too. Something about you being a bad example, I believe that's what he said back then." Canada had since looked back to the street ahead. In that instant Canada missed the ghastly face America was making off to the side. The color drained out of America's face as he took in the fact his brother had just given him. More sweat came to his face, and he used his sleeve to wipe it away. I'm really hot for it to be so cold out especially with snow on the ground. That's new. America didn't linger on it to long though. He had other things on his mind.

Pale and looking much like a ghost America's shoulders sagged, "Dude that is so not fair." America looked back at Canada to see the sympathetic smile on his brother's face. That's when America noticed once again that Canada was scratching his left arm, "Dude you've been doing that ever since we started this trip. What's wrong Mattie? Did you get poison ivy?"

Canada looked down at his offending arm, "No. Not poison ivy. I don't know. It's probably the sweater." Canada continued to scratch for a moment more before stopping, "We're almost there." He quirked an eyebrow as he noticed America was scratching his side once more, "You've been doing that since the plane."

America shrugged his shoulder, "Just the plane ride. It's nothing. Maybe I'm developing a nervous habit for this trip. I wasn't like this at your place." America stopped scratching and looked down to the gift in his hand, "Maybe we should just go home. This birthday thing is too complicated anyway. Besides I tried looking it up on Wikipedia and I couldn't find the exact day he was born. There was like a day the first tribes of way back when were there on his little island." America huffed, "Then there was the day Great Britain was formed. Which they didn't have an exact day for! They only gave me a year! Not even a single year either! Then there was a day for United Kingdom of Great Britain! He can't have more than one birthday! Dude, Which one would he celebrate!?"

Canada laughed as his brother descended into a realm of light hearted anger and stress, "Why didn't you just ask Arthur?"

". . ." America stared up at the sky once again seriously thinking about that question. He reached up pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. Why didn't I just ask him? It sure would have been easier. Why did I come all the way here?

America looked away from the street and back at Canada, "Well it just came to my mind not too long ago. That he never asked me over for his birthday. That's why I came to you in the first place. I wanted to know if he celebrated it at all with anyone or if it was just me."

Canada rolled his head from side to side as he thought about that, "He's never asked me to his birthday, but I still think you should have asked France. He would know."

"No way, Mattie." America said in quick reply, "You know France gives me the creeps."

"He isn't that bad, Alfred." Canada's eyes finally landed on the house of Britain, "Oh we finally made it. Alfred, are you ready?"

The two walked up to the front door America with his American themed wrapped up box in one hand and Canada with his Canadian themed gift bag.

With one last sigh America raised his hand and began to uncouthly bang on the door managing to put his thoughts aside and return to his normal attitude, "Yo! Britain! You Home!"

The banging continued until some five minutes later the lock on the door disengaged. The door opened half way and a disgruntled Britain stood glaring, "What the bloody hell are you doing!? Banging away on the door like you never learned any manners!"

Half of the English gentleman's anger was stemming from the large wet stain covering the front of his green vest. America was oblivious to the stain, but Canada realized that Alfred's shouting and pounding had most likely startled the older nation into dropping his famous tea all over himself.

America was not disheartened in the least by Britain's words. In fact he smiled from ear to ear, "Yo Dude. We came to ask you something! So can we come in for a minute?" One had to wonder if America was actually asking that last sentence because he went to walk on in before Britain had a chance to respond.

It was in this moment that Britain took a second glance around the intruding annoyance in his doorway and saw Canada standing outside as well, "Both of you, eh? What's going on here?" Then coming back to his senses he went to shut the door on America who was half way in, "You bloody git! I did not invite you in yet! At least wait for an answer! Didn't I teach you anything!?"

America laughed as the English gentleman put all his weight into trying to close the door. Unfortunately for Britain it was not happening. America kept his body in the door and his superhuman strength easily kept it open, "Come on Artie. Let us in!"

"Wait for me to let you in then!" Britain shouted back.

Canada stood back taking in the two arguing in the doorway. It was a rather funny sight. Canada wasn't going to break up the banter between the two, but he was increasingly becoming more and more uncomfortable in his sweater, "Arthur," Canada scratched at his left arm again, but this time he kept moving up his arm to scratch his shoulder as well. The persistent itch he'd had at the start of this journey was spreading up his arm now and over his shoulder to his back. This sweater had never bothered him before. Why it was suddenly like being trapped in an itchy death trap Canada wasn't sure, "Can I ask you a favor?" Canada raised his arm and wiped at his sweaty brow. It was cold out, but maybe the sweater was to warm.

It was Canada's tone that finally got Britain and America to stop their bickering. America backed off and Britain opened the door to let the two younger nations inside.

Britain studied Canada's face. He looked a bit under the weather, "Are you ok?" He stepped aside to let the two enter. America strolled on in and Canada followed. Britain reached out as the younger one passed placing his hand on Canada's forehead, "You feel warm. You could have a cold."

Canada nodded, "I'm fine, but do you have a shirt I could borrow. I didn't bring anything with me. I didn't think this would be a long trip, and my sweater is making me itch, and it's really hot."

"You've been scratching since we left your place, bro." America reminded once again as he walked back over to his younger brother, "You should have told me. We could've stopped and bought another shirt. I could've bought you a cool one." He reached out taking his brother's gift bag so he could go change. With all the commotion Britain hadn't noticed the gift items as he stared at Canada.

Canada laughed nervously at America's suggested idea.. Sometimes his fashion sense and America's seemed to clash. "Don't worry about it. It hasn't really bothered me until now. Besides, you're one to talk." The simple reminder seemed to cause America to unconsciously reach out and scratch his side.

"Well come on then. Let's see what we can find." Britain motioned for Canada to follow him upstairs not noticing America or the gifts as he walked away. While they walked off America went to Britain's couch and sailed onto it, a smile on his face. He sat the American clad birthday gift and the Canadian themed bag on the coffee table as he waited for his two brothers to return.

As the minutes ticked by America found himself drifting off into sleep. He was tired which was odd enough. He wiped at his forehead again he wasn't one to complain about running heat during the winter months but it felt like an inferno in here. He wiggled out of his jacket throwing it haphazardly on the floor. He was just starting to doze off when he was suddenly brought back to full consciousness by a scream from upstairs.

America bolted upright on the couch and turned to look up the staircase, "Matthew!" He recognized the voice and went racing upstairs. He took the stairs three at a time. When he reached the upstairs hallway he saw Britain standing in the open doorway of the bathroom. The old nation was staring into the small room with a look of sympathy and sudden realization.

"What happened!? What's wrong!?" America shoved Britain into the small bathroom and out of the way so he could see what was happening. America's eyes bugged as he saw his younger brother standing in the bathroom with his shirt off. "Bro!? What -!?"He was about to ask what was wrong when he could easily see for himself. His younger brother had red dots that were simply covering his left arm and shoulder, "Dude, what was that sweater made out of!?"

Canada stared wide eyed at his red polka dotted self. He seemed like he was in too much shock to speak at the moment.

Britain regained his balance and shot America a rather vicious look before turning to look back at Canada. A smile tugged at his mouth and then he laughed light heartedly. Britain knew what was going on although he'd been caught off guard by Canada's scream he knew the young nation would be fine, "You don't know what it is?" He said in a calm voice.

Canada shook his head no in horror. America took the moment to turn and stare at Britain. Britain wasn't panicked in the least. In fact he looked like he found the current situation funny, "Dude! Canada looks like a polka dotted sweater! What's wrong with him!?"

Britain laughed, "I forgot you never had this. You didn't either America. That's going to be a problem for you. It's highly contagious."

America's eyes dilated to pinpricks, "Dude that is not cool! Heroes don't get sick, and they definitely don't do polka dots! Is it the plague!? Canada, did you get the plague!?"

Canada was quickly becoming panicked with talk of the plague, and Britain shook his head no, "He does not have the plague, Alfred. He simply has chicken pox. It is quite common in children. I actually forgot neither of you had it before. It is almost a rite of passage for kids. Well it was in the elder days. Now, there is a vaccine. I am guessing you did not bother with that vaccine, did you Alfred?"

"Chicken Pox!?", Canada cried as he started to scratch his arm again.

"WoWoWo. A needle?" America shook his head no at the thought.

Britain walked over to Canada gently taking a hold of his wrist to keep him from scratching, "You shouldn't scratch. It'll scar."

Canada sighed heavily, "I should go home. You could get sick too."

Britain shook his head no, "Don't worry. I had chicken pox ages ago. I cannot get it again, and the worst part of it was France taking care of me." Britain trembled at the far away memory,"Besides. Chicken pox is worse for adults than it is for children. You should not be alone at your house." He put his hand back on Canada's head, "You already have a fever. You can stay here. If I am right your brother-", He looked back at America, "will be joining you soon enough."

"No way dude!" America cried, "Hero's don't get sick!"

Britain's head cocked to the side as he stared at America, "You realize you are scratching your side, right? How long has that been going on?"

America blinked as he felt sweat trickle down his face, "No way dude! It's from the plane ride! That's all! Besides being sick would totally mess up the reason for coming here! So I can't catch some stupid chicken disease." He started to scratch his side harder as he spoke.

Britain gave America 'the eye', and he walked over to his younger brother grabbing the seam of his shirt and yanking it up with a rather annoyed face on, "…daft…" He mumbled.

Canada stared at his older brother, "You have them too, Alfred."

America looked down at his stomach. Sure enough he also looked like a polka dotted sweater. His brows furrowed into an unhappy look. He turned to leave the bathroom ripping his shirt out of Britain's hand in the process, "Well this sucks." He walked away down the hall.

Britain and Canada followed him out into the hallway. Britain crossed his arms over his chest, "Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to go get some water!" He grumbled unhappily, "At least this explains why I felt weird since yesterday." He raised his sleeve wiping off his brow, "Hey Britain?" He stopped walking and reached out to put his hand on the wall "Can we… open… a windo-"He was standing in the middle of the hallway and not finding the wall with his hand ,because it was too far away, the dizzy nation almost toppled over. Just as he started to keel over America felt two strong arms wrap around his torso and steady him.

"Hold on there, Alfred. I have you." Britain kept his arms around America to keep his younger brother upright, but it was a struggle, "Good grief! Look at how much you weigh now!" The older nation strained. Britain tried to remember the last time he had held America up. It was a distant memory, but the child had never weighed nearly this much.

America sunk down into Britain's arms as a wave of dizziness overtook him. He noticed that his glasses had fallen off of his face and onto the floor, but he didn't care. It took a moment for the room to stop spinning, but when it did Alfred let out a short laugh, "Hey. Good catch, Bro."

"Good catch nothing! You'll give me a hernia!" Britain held onto America tightly making sure he didn't fall to the floor.

Canada came over to the two and carefully reached down picking America's glasses up off the floor. Then he reached out putting his hand on his brother's forehead, "Hey, you feel hot to me. That can't be good. I have a fever too."

"I'll be fine." America mumbled, "I'm the hero after all."

Britain started to walk back towards the guest bedroom dragging America with him. When they finally made it there Britain flopped America unceremoniously down on the sheets themed with the British Flag. Britain had to admit he was a bit surprised when America, face down in the sheets, didn't even make a fuss about being dropped like a rock.
"Alfred, Are you ok?" He placed his hand on America's shoulder and shook him lightly, but he got no response. Rolling America over Britain saw that his younger brother was out like a light. Rolling his eyes he finished situating the sleeping nation on the bed and began to firmly tuck him in.

Canada walked to the other side of the king sized bed. Starting to feel ill himself he climbed on in under the sheets. He smiled up at Britain, "Sorry for the trouble Arthur. We actually did have a different reason for coming here."

Britain looked across the bed at Canada, "And what reason would that be, Matthew?"

Canada looked from Britain then down to his unconscious brother, "I should let him tell you. It was his idea."

Britain rolled his eyes, "The git was probably trying to throw some lame party again."

Canada laughed, "No… That wasn't it." His voice trailed off as he fell off into sleep.

Britain stared down at the two sleeping nations with a mixture of feelings... some stronger than others. The brothers hadn't been together in some time. It reminded Britain of when they had been fledgling nations under his wing. He rolled his eyes to break himself out of the sentimentality. With the two of them sick there would be plenty of extra work to do, and now he had to find out what America had been planning.

Author's Note: There's chapter one. I haven't written in some time so here I go again.
Reviews and Critiques are always appreciated.