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Arthur had just finished putting the old bed sheets in the wash along with Peter's pyjamas, and refilled his water glass. When he got upstairs, the boy was still in the bath and looking very sorry for himself.
"How are you feeling?" He asked him, holding out the towel for Peter to step into and be wrapped in.
"Like poo."
Arthur chuckled and started drying his hair, "Happens to the best of us…" He covered him in the towel and picked up a pair of nice clean pyjamas, just a t-shirt and some trousers, "You can't help it when you get sick."
Peter shook out his now messy hair and continued his pouting, "I'm sorry I didn't make it to the toilet…"
"Don't be silly." Arthur pulled the t-shirt over the boys head and smoothed out his hair, "Sometimes it happens really quickly, and that's ok."
Once he was all dressed and cosy again, Arthur led him back to bed where the sheets were now clean and changed, and tucked him in with the bowl by his side. Just in case.
Honestly, he wasn't all that used to this whole parenting thing. Mostly he just remembered how his mother treated him when he got sick, and how she would hold him and coddle him much to his brother's jealousy. Luckily for Peter, he was an only child, and only ever got attention. It made him a brat sometimes, but when he was like this he was less of a problem. That and Arthur felt bad for him - this was probably his cookings fault, but he wasn't about to admit that.
Looking at Peter now, it was hard not to want to hold him and make him feel better.
"Remember to drink lots of water, little sips." Arthur held out the water cup for him to take, "Get some rest, and I can come up again later with some dry toast for you to eat."
"I'm not hungry…"
"Of course not, but you might be hungry later."
"What if I'm sick again?"
"You have to eat something." He smoothed his hair off of his forehead, feeling the burning temperature the boy had, "It'll help line your stomach, just a bite or two. See how you feel later." He gave him a kiss in his hair and let Peter sink into the pillows, eyes heavy.
"My head hurts…" he croaked,
"You're dehydrated." Arthur pulled the duvet up to his shoulders, "Just keep having little sips of water and it'll go away."
With that said, he stood up from the edge of the bed and closed the curtains so the morning sun didn't disturb his little one's nap. He needed to rest and get his energy up again the poor thing.
While he was sleeping, Arthur made sure to clean and keep himself busy, ears always primed to listen out for Peter calling for him. He got the dishes cleaned and away, and hung the bed sheets out in the summer sun.
Later in the day, Arthur took up a tray with more water and plain toast for him. He knocked before entering, and found Peter just sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
"How do we feel?" Arthur asked, placing the tray on the side table. He didn't open the curtains, only turning the lamp on a low setting.
"My head still hurts, and my tummy keeps bubbling…"
"Well we can't have that." Arthur sat next to him and felt his head again, it was a little cooler than before, but not by much.
"Does your tummy hurt at all?" He asked as he put a hand on it to inspect it. Poor thing, this was definitely a touch of food poisoning.
"A little. Here." He pointed to his right side and Arthur lifted his shirt to gently press there, it bubbled a little in response.
He shook his head and let Peter right his shirt and turned back to the tray he brought up with him.
"Not good, I'll have to brew you a very special potion for this."
"And magic kisses…? for my head."
"I wouldn't forget those." Arthur smiled at him and pulled out a little pot of tiger balm. "This will help the magic kisses work the best." He took a little of it on his finger and rubbed it on Peter's temples and forehead, then gave him three kisses, one on each cheek and on the top of his head.
"And poof!" he wiggled his fingers at him, "Now it'll feel better."
Peter giggled, "It's all cold."
"That's the magic working." Arthur assured him. The menthol from the tiger balm would soothe his headache and hopefully cool his fever a little too, but it wasn't Arthur's only magic trick.
"Right, your magic potion." He picked up a little tablet from the tray he'd brought and held the glass of water, "This is very special, I've infused it with fairy dust. Watch and see…" As soon as the tablet was dropped into the water it started fizzing and turning the water a bright orange.
Peter's eyes were wide as the water became juice before his very eyes - in reality it was just electrolytes and vitamins to help him stay hydrated, but the fizzing was useful to add flare.
"Try it…" Arthur held it to him, and the boy took it with both hands. He looked unsure.
"Is it going to taste like medicine?"
Arthur shook his head, "It's like orange squash." He promised, "Or fizzy orange."
With some hesitance, Peter took a little sip and scrunched up his nose, "It's weird… But it's ok."
"Yeah?" Arthur took the cup from him and set it back on the table, "You don't have to drink all of it, but I'll let the fairies know they should improve the recipe."
It earned another giggle.
Peter was awake now, a little more perky than when he was first sick. Arthur just hoped that it had passed, and he could rest the remainder off.
"Do you want to try a bit of toast?"
He thought about it for a few seconds before shaking his head, "No.. I still feel bubbly and icky."
"Alright. Anything else I can get you?"
"Uumm.. can you bring the TV in my room?"
Arthur frowned at him. That was the request of a boy that was definitely feeling better already.
"How am I going to get the TV up here?"
Peter shrugged and played with his seagull stuffed toy - it had luckily survived unscaved from the violent sickness he'd had earlier, though definitely a little tear stained from the whole ordeal.
"You could lay on the sofa to watch TV if you want."
"I want to be close to the bathroom…" Peter muttered, shame clear on his face.
Arthur sighed, oh he was a soft heart, and Peter was the one person who seemed to be able to soften him into subservience sometimes. He was nothing if not a father at this point, as much as he denied it. Micronations didn't seem to heal or age as fast as real nations, they were vulnerable. As much as Arthur didn't want to admit that this child in front of him was a nation like him, the fact was that he had been 8 years old for close to 60 years.
"Alright - but just this once." He held up a finger to him, "And just for today. Tomorrow you'll have to sit downstairs."
Peter hugged his toy with a big grin on his face, "Okaaay."
The rest of the day was quiet. Peter sat in bed and watched animal shows and fell asleep through some of it, only needing help once or twice to use the bathroom, but he didn't throw up again for the whole day. The real nightmare was over.
Arthur sighed in relief when Peter was sat upright in bed, wiggling his feet as he watched a documentary on whales, and happily nibbling on dry toast with his "juice" drink. He felt like he could finally relax.
Except when his phone started ringing, and he saw a facetime call from Alfred pop up. He could feel the headache behind his eyes.
He'd mentioned it to a few people for advice - the elecrolytes were Ludwig's idea, the tiger balm Yao's, but Alfred had been silent until right now.
He stepped out to answer it.
"How's parenthood treating you?" Alfred was stupidly close to the camera, only showing the top of his face, but it was obvious he was also still in bed, and obvious he was looking oddly smug at Arthur's clear frustration and tiredness.
"It's fine - Peter is fine. Better."
"Aw, good." Alfred chirped, "You look like ass." He crunched through some chips as he spoke. It was grating.
"Thanks."
"Can I talk to him?"
Arthur frowned at the screen. That was why he called? Typical, he was just as childish.
"Fine…" He went back into the room, "Peter - Alfred's called for you."
Peter looked excited and held out his hands for the phone, crumbs on his chin. When he got hold of it, Arthur used his now free hands to clean his face. It was met with a little flailing and protest - Peter wanted to look cool in front of the big awesome America.
"Hey squirt!" Alfred had shifted so Peter could see his whole face, that bright hollywood smile on. He also had crumbs on his face, which he quickly wiped away when Peter laughed.
"Heard your dad poisoned you."
"Excuse me, don't say things like that." Arthur popped into frame. It was probably true, but also embarrassing. Next time he'd just go to the local chip shop for them.
"The cool guys are talking." Alfred waved him off.
"He also gave me a magic potion so it's ok. Look, see?" Peter held up the half empty orange cup to the camera, "I feel better and watching TV."
"Ah yeah, TV always helps. You got your captain with you too?"
Peter nodded, and hugged his seagull.
"Aw man, look at you! You're all set. I just wanted to make sure the old man was taking care of you right. You'd tell me if he was being a big meanie, yeah? Cus I'd come beat him up."
Arthur didn't look as impressed with all of this as Peter did, but he couldn't deny something that was making him happy. If he was smiling and chatting, that meant he was going to be ok and Arthur could feel a little less guilty about his cooking.
"Alright squirt, you can hand me back to your dad, ok? I'll keep tabs on him."
Peter giggled, "Yeah ok. Bye Alfie!"
"See ya lil guy!"
Arthur took the phone back and left the room again. After a few seconds he cleared his throat, "Thank you… for that."
"For what?" Alfred chuckled, reaching for more chips. At this point he knew it was just to annoy him.
"Helping cheer him up." Arthur leaned against the nearest wall, "He looks up to you."
"Yeah duh. I'm like really tall."
"Shut up." He hated that that even made Arthur smile a bit. He tried to hide it behind his hand but it was obvious, and Alfred had seen it and was beaming about it.
"Well hey, you need to take care of yourself too. And maybe don't try cooking again since you've already developed an iron gut from it."
"You're pushing it."
"Sorry." Alfred laughed at himself, "You're doing great."
"Thanks Alfred."
Once he had hung up, Arthur stood there a little longer against the wall. How odd it was, to know that so many other nations he knew were eager to offer help, whether a remedy or just a little company. Sometimes being such a little island felt lonely, but he was happy to know they were there now. Happy to help and able to offer it through a screen. He felt lucky. And lucky to have Peter here just the same.