His chest hurt. Breathing wasn't working. Head swimming through something thick. He felt as though he was falling over. And spinning round and round. It was taking a lot of energy to stay conscious. Then again, why was it he was trying to stay awake, listening to someone laughing? Maybe if he let himself sleep, everything would be fine...

A swishing sound reached him, swiftly followed by a slicing sound. The pressure on his chest was released and he fell to his knees, still feeling dizzy. He took deep, shuddering breaths and coughed a few times. Opening his eyes, he blinked several times before looking up.

Harry appeared to be enraged: he was scowling at someone. Alfred followed his gaze to see the very person he had wished for. "Gentleman..." he whispered in relief.

The Gentleman was standing with his cane in hand, the sun glinting off its polished metal. In his other hand appeared to be the same device that Harry had been using to steal people's powers. "I apologise for being late," he said to Alfred, not taking his eyes from Harry.

A few feet away, Harry's eyes widened suddenly. "You..." he breathed.

"Yes," confirmed the Gentleman. "And I am afraid that you will never be as fast as me." With that being said, Arthur aimed the device at Harry and pulled the trigger. A red beam hit the villain before he could move. Beginning to yell, Harry dropped to his knees. He placed his hands to his head and glared up at the Gentleman. For a moment, Alfred thought that this was the end. No more fighting. He could relax. However, this was not to be the case as Harry suddenly disappeared.

Alfred struggled to stand, crying out as he spotted the man trying to attack the Gentleman from behind. Then he blinked and the Gentleman was behind Harry, pulling the trigger once again. Once again, Harry yelled in obvious discomfort, perhaps even pain, as the beam hit him once more.

Frowning, Alfred finally managed to get to his feet. As he stood massaging his bruised ribs he wondered what was happening. After all, the device took people's powers and put them inside the person holding it – didn't it? Was Arthur getting all of them now? After he had said he didn't want his power, too... But, as he watched, he noticed that the beam only went as far as the device before stopping. Alarmed, he also saw that the device was changing colour, slowly become red.

With a grunt, Harry moved suddenly, slapping his hand to the ground. His hand landed where a shadow had fallen. From the black shape, spikes rose, quickly moving to pierce the Gentleman. "Arthur!" cried Alfred, anxiously, stepping forward.

He had hardly moved when the Gentleman disappeared for a second, reappearing just as quickly behind Harry. But, with his movement, the beam had been broken and Harry was able to get to his feet. Alfred glanced between the two. The device was now half red and the Gentleman seemed to be grimacing. Harry was breathing heavily and was scowling at the British hero.

"I..." panted Harry. "I still... have powers... with which to destroy you... Give me the device and I will let you live."

A smirk appeared on the Gentleman's face. "I am afraid that no powers will come out of it now. Our lovely technical genius has made sure of that. This device now lets me take away your powers but keeps them within it. However, I greatly doubt that it will last much longer."

With darting eyes, Alfred tried to make his way back into the situation. After all, he was a hero: he should be helping Arthur, not standing on the sidelines again. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Harry laughing.

"But it is useless if I know when you'll use it! I can read your mind, after all! Besides," scoffed the villain, "you have bound yourself to these silly ru-"

The beam shot out from the device again, catching Harry in it once again. He cried out and, once again, he fell to his knees. "I am afraid that you underestimate Eduard," said the Gentleman. "If I do not pull the trigger while this is not full, it will fire the beam itself until it has collected all your powers."

"Damn... you..." growled Harry through gritted teeth. For the second time, he slapped his hand to the ground, forming a sheet of ice which spread rapidly towards Arthur. Alfred cried out once again, beginning to move towards his hero. However, the ice suddenly stopped a foot from where the Gentleman had stayed, quite still, obviously not wanting to break the beam. "No!" gasped Harry. Glancing at him, Alfred saw that he didn't seem to be in pain any more.

"Ah," breathed the Gentleman through gritted teeth. The device was now completely red and he let it fall, backing off as he did so.

"Er..." said Alfred, wondering what was going to happen now.

"Get back!" cried the Gentleman, glancing round at him.

"Wha-?" began Alfred as his eyes widened. A high pitched noise was now emitting from the thing. It's gonna blow, flashed into his head and he stumbled backwards. The noise became louder and higher, causing Alfred to wince just before there was a dull bang and the device seemed to collapse in on itself. He blinked and stared at where it had been. Where was the explosion?

"I see that, once again, Eduard did not explain this well..." said the Gentleman, suddenly beside him. "Are you all right?" he asked, worry etched on his face. "I am terribly sorry that it took so long for me to get here..."

"That's cool," said Alfred, smiling at his Gentleman hero. "You saved me, didn't you?"

"Well, I suppose I did. Again," replied Arthur with a nod and a smirk.

Something suddenly hit the back of Alfred's head and, surprised, he turned around to find that Harry had hit him over the head with a brick. For a moment they stared at each other, then down at the brick dust from the broken weapon. "I think you should just surrender," said Alfred with a cocky grin.

"Would you care to believe that I managed to procure these?" asked the Gentleman, holding up a pair of handcuffs with a finger.

"Really?" asked Alfred with a raised eyebrow. "Where didja get them from?"

The Gentleman frowned. "Just... Please could you just put them on him without questioning me?"

Grinning, Alfred took them and, after a very brief struggle, he had secured Harry's arms behind him. "Done and done!" he declared, saluting with a wide smile.

But the Gentleman wasn't paying attention. He was gazing up at the huge beanstalk that thrust into the sky. "Damn," he muttered, mainly to himself. "I thought that would have disappeared when I took his powers from him..."

"What're we gonna do?" asked Alfred.

"It looks like we may need the others. Perhaps the Rose can take care of this..."

"But if it's high enough, it could take down a plane..."

The Gentleman sighed and seemed about to speak when he stopped and smiled. "I think that is being taken care of." He pointed upwards and Alfred could see Birdman flying around the plant. Alfred sighed in relief.

Pulling a face, however, he turned back to his hero. "But, I was thinking, I could totally cut down that thing..."

For a moment, he thought that Arthur was going to scowl and tell him not to do anything. Then he smiled and nodded. "Fine. Be careful, though."

Alfred laughed. "Why do I need to be careful?" he grinned at Arthur's worried look. Before he could be warned off it, Alfred hurried over to where his temporary cutting tool had dropped. Picking up the piece of metal, he once again threw it like a Frisbee. It spun through the air and, this time, it sliced through the beanstalk. However, unforeseen by Alfred, it carried on beyond it. He heard Arthur cry out: if that thing went too far, someone else could get hurt. Not only that, the giant plant was beginning to fall – straight towards them. "Ah. That's why..." he muttered.

As he stared in horror at the falling vine, he caught sight of fast movement. Blinking, he refocussed and noticed the Gentleman in front of the plant with his cane. Gaping, Alfred could only watch as he began to move his arm until it was a blur, pieces of plant flying off. It was an amazing sight – the plant was cut apart so quickly that by the time it fell to the ground, none of the bits hit Alfred or Harry.

Meanwhile, Birdman had noticed the conundrum of the flying metal and Alfred watched as he flew down, as fast a rocket, landing on top of it. The tool was forced downwards, slapping down into the wide river. Alfred breathed a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, the Gentleman then rounded on him. "You idiot!" he snarled. "This is what I meant by 'be careful'!" he exclaimed as he marched towards Alfred. The American only grinned in response. "This is no laughing matter!" Arthur exploded.

"That was so cool..." Alfred managed to whisper.

"Huh?" The Gentleman managed in the face of the subject change. "Are... What... That-That is not the point!"

"Sorry," said Alfred, still smiling, feeling incredibly happy. "I'll be more careful next time!"

Blinking, the Gentleman nodded. "Yes. Well. See that you do," he said, a little breathlessly. Suddenly, Alfred felt the urge to hug Arthur but the Brit moved off, pulling Harry to his feet. "The authorities will be here soon."

"Hey, Artie..." said Alfred, with a smile. The Gentleman paused, a frown on his face. "Thanks for being my hero."

"Eh?" said the Gentleman, his cheeks turning red. Or perhaps that was just the poor lighting. Alfred shrugged it off and took hold of Harry's elbow, dragging him off to the entrance to the warehouse district.

"I think that a celebration is in order, non?" Francis grinned at Alfred who laughed and nodded.

"Totally! Today was so much fun!"

"Fun?!" grumbled Arthur. "It wasn't supposed to be fun, stupid! Lots of people could have been killed! Many were injured! Some really are dead!"

"Ah, lighten up," said Alfred, smiling happily at his friend. "We should celebrate that there weren't more people dead or injured, right?"

Arthur only narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "Do what you wish," he muttered as he stalked off to get changed. Alfred watched him go, still slightly in awe of him.

"Alfred," said Francis, attracting his attention.

The American started and looked round. "Yeah?"

"Actually, I do not think that it matters too much. Mais... Perhaps you could help us make a dance floor?" He gestured to the couches, obviously wanting them moved.

"Oh, sure!" said Alfred as he leapt forward to help.

"Really, now! You need to be more aware of your strength, numbskull," sighed Arthur, sitting beside the downhearted Alfred.

"I... I didn't mean to..." muttered Alfred. "I didn't know there was a switch..."

"Yes, I know. It was that stupid Frog, thinking he could 'haze' you. Sheesh."

Alfred sniffed. "You don't need to stay with me, y'know..."

"And how else do you expect to get to the bar quickly once you've finished tidying up?" Arthur said with a shrug.

Grimacing, Alfred nodded and stared around at the mess. Apparently, the couches in the middle of the HQ were attached to the floor. A complicated circuit could make them sink below the ground and clear the space for training needs. Now the couches were stacked against the wall, the circuitry bare. Eduard was currently fixing them with his power. He didn't seem as annoyed as the others had when Alfred had ripped the couches from their place. And so the heroes had decided to party in a bar, Kiku sneaking in so he could sit with the others. Matthew could simply walk in.

"I have finished with the circuitry if you would like to put the couches back in place..." said Eduard quietly.

"Ah! Sure thing!" exclaimed Alfred and hurriedly placed them back. Eduard continued to link them up and, soon, everything was back to normal. "I am really, really sorry about that, dude..."

Eduard waved him away. "Have fun at the bar," he said, settling himself down in front of the screen again.

Alfred frowned as Arthur took him by the elbow. "Come along," said the Englishman.

"Why's he staying behind?" asked Alfred as they reached the elevator.

"He needs to watch for any criminal activity. It has picked up of late and we need someone to keep watch."

"So this is actually the Watchtower?" said Alfred with a teasing grin.

Arthur sighed. "If you say so." They exited the building, Arthur still holding onto Alfred. The American resisted the urge to break away. For some reason, being so close to Arthur was making him feel a little nervous.

"Thank you," Alfred found himself saying. Arthur slowed and glanced at him, frowning. "For everything," he added, with a small smile.

"What?"

"You..." began Alfred before blushing and looking away. "Nothing. Never mind," he mumbled. Had he really just been about to tell Arthur that he had 'completely turned his life around' and that he'd 'made his life more exciting'? The former wasn't even completely true. He had just added something to his life. The new hero was extremely grateful for the wind hitting his face, cooling his cheeks.

"We're here..." said Arthur, still sounding confused at Alfred's outburst. They were standing outside a grey, normal-looking building. A bouncer stood outside with a line of people wishing to get inside. None of their friends were visible. "You had best hold onto me tighter if we're to hurry past him," added Arthur, glancing at Alfred.

His eyes widened in surprise but Alfred nodded, looked away and held onto Arthur's arm as tightly as he dared with his new strength. There was a sudden rush of air around him before, suddenly, loud noise assaulted his eardrums and he found himself inside. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The room was segregated into a raised area where they were standing. Steps led into a dance area where several people were gyrating already. Small, round tables surrounded them. The bar faced Alfred and Arthur and, beside them, there was a DJ, headphones on, records spinning. Alfred spotted Matthew standing beside some tables which had been pushed together for the larger group.

"I assure you, Alfred, that we're inside. You can let go of me now," said Arthur beside him. With a gasp, he did so and stepped away. Realising how odd that was, he turned to stare at him. But the Brit had already made his way to the steps. What was wrong with him today? Just because Arthur had saved his life once again – and looked super cool while doing it – why was he acting like this? His heart swelled whenever he thought of what had occurred earlier in the day. And why did he feel the urge to be close to him yet rush away when he noticed.

However, when he asked himself these questions, he frowned at himself. After all, he knew fine well why it was happening...

Back home, Alfred had thought that he would love to go to clubs and bars when he was in college but, being jostled by drunken couples dancing too close to their tables while desperately clinging to his Coke, he had quickly realised they weren't too fun.

The music was so loud he could barely talk to people. The others were all drinking alcohol bar Matthew but the poor Healer had been roped into dancing with Francis and Elizaveta. Arthur was nowhere to be seen. All in all, Alfred felt lonely.

With a sigh, Alfred polished off his glass of Coke and decided to go to the bathroom. Maybe he would be able to think there.

When he got there, he was surprised to find Francis already standing at a urinal. "Hey, dude!" he cried, smiling at him. "Having fun with Mattie?"

"Oui," said Francis with a smile. "Et how is the night treating you?"

"Eh, s'alright," he replied with a shrug.

"Is Arthur with you?" asked Francis, curiously.

"Nope. I thought he was with you guys?" said Alfred, feeling a little anxious. "Should we try to find him?"

"Non, I am sure he will turn up somewhere..."

"Ah, that's good..." muttered Alfred. Then, without really meaning to, without thinking about it, he added, "I wish he was with me..."

"Quoi?" said Francis, surprised. He translated at Alfred's confused look. "What is this? Do you want him to stand with you?"

"Th-That's not exactly..." mumbled Alfred, turning away to wash his hands and hide his blush.

"Do you want him to hold your hand?" said Francis, teasingly.

Alfred stiffened – had he given himself away? After all, he had tried to figure out how to act with his friend now that he had come to terms with the way he felt. But he still felt really embarrassed and was unsure how to go about broaching the subject with his hero.

Suddenly, Francis was behind him and whispering into his ear. "Do you want him to hold you close et kiss you?"

"Wha-? Dude-!" began Alfred, stepping away and spinning around. Before he could finish, however, the door to the bathroom slammed open and a rather drunk Arthur appeared.

The Brit swayed and stared at them both. He squinted for a moment and then said, "What you doin' 'ere?"

"Huh? Wha-? No-Noth-" began Alfred, trying to sidle away from Francis as surreptitiously as he could.

However, Arthur interrupted him with a drunken shout. "You should be dance on floor!" he cried out. Then he frowned, his eyes unfocussed as he assessed what he had just blurted out. "On floor dance...? No, dance floor, on. Go," he demanded suddenly, pointing back the way he had come.

"Did you come just to shout at us, cher, or did you come to relieve yourself?" asked Francis with a raised eyebrow. He seemed to find the situation amusing. Alfred, meanwhile, rubbed at his arm and wondered whether he should keep an eye on the drunken Arthur or slip away unnoticed.

"S'at you Francis?" asked Arthur as he staggered forward, the door swinging shut. "Pour quelle raison m'avez vous laissé seul avec ces filles?" he demanded. Alfred blinked in confusion and hoped that he would start speaking in English again soon.

"Je pensais que vous auriez du plaisir avec elle," said Francis, simply with a small smirk. "Je pensais que ça ne vous dérangerait pas, mon cher."

"Je ne veux pas être avec des filles!" snapped Arthur, his mouth curling in disdain. He glanced around and noticed Alfred. "Al? Where'd you come from?"

"I've... been here... since you came in..." said Alfred, slowly, a worried expression gracing his face.

"I ask again, cher," interjected Francis. "Do you need these facilities?"

Arthur blinked and slowly surveyed the room. Frantically, he nodded and Francis guided him to a stall, closing the door behind him. "I think he is about to experience a hangover," he confided in Alfred, as quietly as possible.

"Huh?"

"He loses control of his power when he drinks too much. Et... He may have drank rather a lot tonight. I think he will need to go home soon. Perhaps you could take him there?"

"Wha-? Why me?! I mean, I'm having loads of fun here!" cried Alfred, pouting at the injustice.

"Do you not think this would be a good thing for you?" Francis leaned in. "I can help you in your quest if you pass on this opportunity. Let me know, oui?" With a wink, Francis straightened, glancing in distaste at the stall where Arthur was currently throwing up.

Alfred tried not to blush. He had thought his avoidance of Arthur during the party had gone unnoticed. Clearly, however, he was acting much more obviously now. Shaking his head, Alfred whispered to Francis. "I am still not sure how to act now that I've... well..."

Before Francis could answer the stall door slowly opened. "Oh, God..." muttered Arthur. "It's way too loud in here..."

"That is a shame," said Francis with a smirk. "Well, I should get back. Au revoir!"

Arthur flinched as he opened the door and returned to the club proper. Alfred's eyes grew wide as he realised he had been left alone with him. What was he going to do? "D-Do..." he managed to say, making Arthur wince as he leaned on a sink.

"What is it?" he asked through gritted teeth when Alfred didn't continue. Groaning, he turned a tap on and began to wash his face.

"D'you need help getting home?" asked Alfred quickly and quietly.

"No," mumbled Arthur, waving a hand dismissively. "I am perfectly capable of getting there myself. Unfortunately, I'm sober again..."

"Are you sure?" asked Alfred, anxiously. But Arthur suddenly stood up straight, shook his head, and turned to him. "I mean..." he added, noticing how Arthur didn't wince at his voice this time.

"Yes, quite sure. I'm going to slip out of the back," explained Arthur, as he made his way to the bathroom door. "I'm sure the others will know what happened," he added. He gazed at Alfred for a moment, his cheeks a little red. Alfred was unsure whether it was from the alcohol or something else. "Sorry for marring your night."

Not quite sure what the word meant, Alfred merely shook his head. "No, it's fine, dude. Thanks."

"For what?" asked Arthur, confused once again.

"Um..." Alfred mused. That 'thanks' had come from nowhere. He wondered what he did mean. "I dunno. Just automatic, I think."

"I see. Well... So long," said Arthur. He paused in the doorway and turned back, a small smile on his face. "Until the next time," he added and bowed before he swept from the room.

Alfred's heart thundered in his chest at the formality as he stared after his hero...

So... The French conversation between Artie and Francis... I'm not gonna translate that. Mainly cause it kinda gives away something which might be extremely obvious but I kind of want to keep vague till later. I say it gives it away. Might not, though. (Thank you to Akatori for the French correction, though.)

Harry was dubbed The Multitasker. But he's in prison with no powers so he kinda sucks. Sorry little guy.

That taxi driver from the last chapter... I was gonna write in a bit about how Eduard goes back to watching his many screens and there's a news report with the guy on the TV with his wife and kids and he's saying thanks to the heroes, especially that tall one who needed a lift since he made him aware of the situation so he could hurry back to his family. Unfortunately, I only remembered after I'd written like the above and then didn't think it would be a good idea to slip it in...

So, yeah, the plan for taking down Harry was: Each hero lures the guy part of the way, all of them in the knowledge that there's would be the final destination. However, there'd then be the next hero, etc. Then, when they got somewhere safer (the warehouses) a hero was needed to hold him up while the device was fixed. (Cause it was a lot more complicated than it looked.) Since Arthur was the fastest, he designated himself the last hero so he could wait in the HQ for the device before running extremely fast to where Harry was and take his powers from him. It seems pretty lame and anti-climactic but it's probably better than laying waste to this city.

Speaking of the city, I've not really decided where the city actually is. I think I'm mostly thinking of New York City as I write but, really, I don't want to set it there. That place gets all the awesome superhero things happening. But... I don't really know/can't think of any off-hand that are filled with alleys and has a park and a museum. And I kinda wanted a river... Mainly for the safely discarding of that giant bit of sharp metal. Which isn't good for the ecosystem in the river but whatever. So... This is still a completely fake city with no name. But not Gotham or Metropolis or whatever. Sheesh...

I think that's all I can say about this chapter...

However, at the end of the next one, I totally have an announcement! And it's super special awesome!