Author's Note: We haven't heard from America in a while, have we? Well, here we are. I didn't know where we were going with him until tonight. Towards the end, the story just wrote itself. I can't wait to see where this plotline goes. You are going to have to read to see where it goes. I already see where we are going next week. You are just going to have to wait around until next Monday. For now, enjoy this week's match.
Match Twenty: Hazel:
Alfred stood over Baby Florence. How could someone so small sway a person? He had never had to care about anyone but himself. Then Florence and Lydia came along. He actually started to care more. Not just about his girls. He started to care more about his fellow allies. Now, he is taking care of a little baby.
He's going to have to care more than ever now.
Someone's been stalking them. Alfred didn't have any proof. Just a notion. Police can't do anything on a notion. Still, Alfred knew that he had to do something. Lydia ordered a security system for the houses.
"Is that really necessary, dude?" he asked. She looked over her shoulder with her phone to her ear.
"You can't be too careful," she said. He couldn't argue with her. She did have a point. A company came by on a Tuesday morning. They set up the alarm system and the cameras. Alfred couldn't help but wonder if this was going to be enough.
His finger caressed the baby's right cheek. So small. So vulnerable. Alfred wanted to keep his daughter by his side forever. The American man kissed her on the forehead. He looked up when heard a knock on the door. Lydia stood in the doorway.
"Oh, it's you," he said.
"Can't sleep either?" she asked.
"No," the American man said.
"Me neither," Lydia said. She walked over to his side. The young woman looked down at the baby in her crib.
"Do you watch her sleep every night?" she asked.
"Yeah," Alfred said. "Isn't she beautiful?"
"Yes," Lydia said with a nod.
"You know something?" he asked. "Watching her sleep does something to me. It kind of calms me down, you know?"
"I understand that," Lydia said. She held her hand to her belly. Alfred glanced over at her.
"Hey," he said.
"Hm?" Lydia asked.
"Are you going to keep the baby?" he asked. Lydia lowered her eyes.
"Yes," she mumbled. She held her hands to her stomach. He reached out and touched her arm.
"I'm here if you need support," the American man said. Lydia pressed her lips together. She slowly backed away.
"What?" he asked. "Did I do something wrong?" She shook her head.
"No," she said. Alfred frowned.
"Why do you hate me?" he asked.
"I don't," she muttered. "I'm just…" Lydia trailed off. He's proved himself worthy of trust. He was good with her sister and he was good with his daughter. So… What's the big problem? Lydia shook her head.
"Forget it," she said.
"Lydia," Alfred said.
"Forget it," she said again. She folded her arms across her chest. The American man sighed.
"Fine," he said. Lydia shook her head to herself.
"I don't hate you," she said again under her breath.
"Hm?" Alfred asked. Lydia turned and walked out of the nursery. The American man stared at she walked out of the darkened room. Lydia closed the door behind her. Alfred turned his attention back to the baby. Baby Florence was still sound asleep.
"I don't know what to do with her," he whispered to the child. The American man shook his head to himself.
Alfred had been kept out of the loop of what's been going on lately. He hadn't noticed it until Allen brought it to his attention.
He was back in the living room. This wasn't his living room. It wasn't the girls' living room either. Where was this place?
"You're in my house."
Alfred turned around. Allen sat on the couch, watching him. The dark counterpart smirked at him.
"Why am I here?" the American man asked. Allen snorted.
"You always ask me that question every time we meet," he said. "Why can't you remember what we were talking about?" The dark version of himself rubbed his forehead.
"Frankly, I'm getting tired of explaining it to you," he said.
"I have to get back to my baby," Alfred said.
"I know," Allen said. The light counterpart looked around the room.
"Where is the door?" he asked. "What did you do with the door?"
"Oh, that old thing? I took it out of here," the darker America said.
"What?"
Allen sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're always going on and on about that damned baby. I can barely keep your attention long enough to talk to. Now that I've trapped you here, we can talk properly. Isn't that great?"
"I have to get back to my daughter," Alfred said. Allen threw back his head and groaned.
"Again with that baby?!" he asked. "Forget about that little brat! Come! Sit down!" The American man's body went stiff.
"What… What's happening to me?" he asked. Alfred found himself walking over to the couch. He tried to stop himself but found it impossible. The American man took a seat next to his darkened double.
"Much better," Allen said. Alfred's eyes shifted back and forth. The darkened man gave him a cold smirk.
"Now we can really talk," he said. He was grinning now.
On the outside, Lydia walked up to Alfred's front door. This wasn't like him. The American man would've called if he was going to be running late. He wouldn't bail on his own daughter. Something had to be wrong.
Lydia knocked on the door.
"Alfred! Are you up? It's me!" she shouted. She knocked on the door again. No answer came. This was not good. Lydia searched around for the spare key that Alfred kept hidden in the box by the door. She dug around in the hole while trying to calm down.
Maybe he's just sick. That's right. He's just sick and I just yell at him for not calling. It will all be fine. It's going to be fine.
Lydia found the key and pulled it out. She stuck it into the lock.
Allen turned to the wall where the door should be.
"Ah," he said. "Looks like your sissy-pooh is here." Alfred lifted his head.
"What?" he asked. His darker counterpart smirked.
"I wonder what fun I could have with her when she comes into the house," he said. The color drained from Alfred's face.
"No…" he said. Allen broke down laughing.