Author's Note: We're back to America again. The man really loves his daughter. You shouldn't be surprised that we would come back to Alfred and Allen. So far, I am getting better with adding 2P!'s to the story. Allen really doesn't like Baby Florence, does he? Let's see how Alfred gets out of this one. I know what I will be doing next week. Plus, I have the Fallen City Christmas special finished. One down, two more to go. For now, enjoy this week's match.

Match Twenty-Five: Deodar:

The two American men sat on the couch. Alfred had a nervous look on his face.

"I really need to get back to my daughter," he said. Allen rolled his eyes.

"Always about that damn baby!" he shouted. "This is why I hate babies! So damn needy! They just cry and cry! So annoying."

"But…" his counterpart said. Allen smacked himself on the forehead.

"Even when I pull you away from the brat, you can't focus," he said. "Forget about the little brat and pay attention to me!" The American man frowned.

"What do you want from me?" he asked. Allen looked up and smiled.

"What do you think? I want your life," he said. Alfred stared at him.

"Huh?" he asked.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" his darker self asked. "I want your life. I want to live as you." The American man blinked.

"You want my life?" he asked.

"Yes," Allen said.

"But why?" the other man asked. The darker American threw back his head and groaned.

"Why do you think?" he asked. The other American man sat quiet.

"Alfred?" he heard on the outside. Alfred turned to the wall.

"That's Lydia!" he said. The American man tried to get up, but Allen grabbed him by the wrist. Alfred tried to fight him off.

"Let me go, man!" he shouted.

"No!" Allen snapped. "You will listen to me!"

"My family is worried about me! Stop!" the other American man yelled. Allen wouldn't let go.

"How are you going to get out of here, huh?" he asked. "There is no door!" The American man wouldn't give up.

"I will find a way out!" he shouted. Alfred managed to pull out of his double's grasp. He started to feel along the wall.

"Yeah, good luck with that," the other America said. Alfred just ignored him.

Lydia looked around the house.

"Alfred?" she asked. "Are you here? Hello? Hello?" There was no one in sight so far. Lydia put her hands on her hips.

"Where could he have gone?" she asked. She looked up when she heard the phone ring. Lydia trailed the sound to the kitchen.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Uh… who is this?" a woman asked on the other line. Lydia raised her eyebrow.

"Mrs. Lopez?" she asked.

"Lydia? Is that you?" the old lady asked.

"Yeah," Lydia said. She looked around the kitchen.

"Listen, I'm trying to look for Alfred," she said. "Have you seen him today?"

"No," she said. Lydia was about to speak when she heard the baby crying down the hall. Her stomach turned.

"Um… Can you hold on for a moment?" she asked. "I have to go see my niece."

"Sure, dear," the old lady said. Lydia set down the phone and walked down the hall. What was Alfred thinking leaving Baby Florence all alone in the house? Something had to be wrong.

Alfred looked up.

"I have to go to my daughter," he said. The American man felt around for the door. Allen threw back his head and groaned.

"Give up already!" he shouted. "I'm not going to let you out of here." Alfred turned his head.

"But little Florence needs me," he said. "I have to go to her."

"Forget about that damn baby!" his other self shouted. "What is it going to take to get you to pay attention to me?" Alfred spun around on his heel.

"What do you want from me?!" he shouted. Allen groaned and threw back his head. Why did his other self have to be so stupid?

"I already told you," he said. "I want your life."

"What about my daughter?" Alfred asked. Allen put up his hands in a shrug.

"I don't care about that little brat," he said.

That was all Alfred needed to hear.

"Then no," he said. Allen raised his eyebrow.

"No what?" he asked.

"I won't let you take over my life," the American man said. "I don't even want to think about what you would do to Baby Florence." Allen gave him a cold smile.

"So is that a no?" he asked. Alfred folded his arms across his chest.

"Yes," he said. His other self smirked.

"You'll be back," he said.

"No," Alfred said, shaking his head. He turned back to the wall and felt around for a door. The American man kept knocking. Finally, he paused when he heard something hollow.

"Here!" Alfred shouted. Something in him told him to close his eyes and think up a door. (It seemed childish to him. But his daughter needed to him.) He reached out his right hand. Cold metal touched his fingers. Alfred opened his eyes.

There it was.

He opened the door and walked out of the room. Allen waved at his back.

"Bye," he said. The American man didn't look back. He just went out the door and closed it behind him.

Lydia looked up when she heard the door close. Alfred stood in front of the living room wall. The American man froze.

"Oh, it's you," he said. Lydia folded her arms across her chest.

"And where have you been?" she asked. Alfred rubbed the back of his head as he nervously laughed.

"I don't think you would believe me," he said. "How's Baby Florence?"

"Fine," Lydia said. "I changed her diaper and gave her a bottle."

"Oh," Alfred said. The American man turned and walked down the hall.

"Alfred?" Lydia asked after him. Alfred didn't respond as he sped up with his walking towards his daughter. He opened the nursery door. To his relief, Baby Florence was still in her crib. She was awake and reached up to the bright pink mobile over her little head. Alfred about fell to his knees. His daughter was going to be okay. He walked up and picked up the little baby girl. She cooed against his chest. The American man stared down at her tiny face staring back at him. Alfred wouldn't let her go.

He didn't notice Allen watching him from outside the nursery window.