I took such a long time to pick a title for this, you know. I pretty much wasted a day's worth of writing simply to "research" song with "child" or "children" in the title. Then I picked my favourite. Which, incidentally, was Kansas's version of My Childish Hero.

Oh, and, yay, for getting back to writing my multi-chaptered stories instead of my one-shots and two-shots! ^.^

"Bon dieu, Francis! Cesse de lutter et porte tes vêtements!" cried Arthur as the small French boy slipped from his grasp once again. Stark naked, he ran off, laughing gaily at the fun of it. Arthur threw his arms in the air with a growl and gave up. It wasn't as though he was the only naked child running around. Despite the time of year, Feliciano was also sat on his brother's knee without any clothes – every time someone tried to dress him, he cried and wailed.

After explaining the situation to Matthew, they had gathered up the children and convinced Alfred to follow Matthew. Arthur, meanwhile, grabbed hold of the broken device (since Matthew couldn't carry everything) and the man in the lab coat. With complaining muscles, he had lifted the man off the floor and rushed to the nearest police station. Once there, he had explained the situation to the sergeant at the desk, took back his handcuffs and hurried back to HQ, arriving seconds after Matthew and the others had.

Lovino, Antonio and Elizaveta had all been there, summoned by Eduard. In the ensuing chaos, there was a lot of explaining, shouting, numerous languages and Alfred demanding to be taken home. Finally, everyone had mostly settled down and they had looked out some spare clothes that had been lying around, their shirts to serve as a sort of nightshirt for them all. However, they were still having trouble with children who couldn't really understand what was going on.

Matthew emerged from his room, Kiku's hand in his, and Francis barrelled into the healer. Surprised, Matthew almost toppled over but, somehow, managed to keep his balance. Looking down with wide eyes, he spotted Francis. Before the child could escape, Matthew scooped him up, leaving Kiku to walk on his own. Luckily, Kiku was the one kid who was actually quiet and calm. He walked off to the couch and scrambled up to sit beside Alfred who was sulking.

"Well?" asked Arthur with a sigh. He handed Matthew the plain, blue shirt he had found in Francis's things.

"Nothing," said Matthew shaking his head. "My power reverses the damage of wounds. If their cells were reversed... I'm not sure what to do exactly. And, even when I tried, Kiku just sat there, staring at me. Nothing happened." Glancing at the Japanese boy, Matthew leaned in conspiratorially. "Actually, it gave me the creeps, him staring like that."

"So, what do we do if Mattie cannot heal them?" asked Elizaveta from where she was struggling against the flighty Gilbert.

"I suppose we must use the device," said the Gentleman with a slight shrug. He turned to Eduard. "And how is that coming along?"

"I'm afraid it's not," said Eduard, shaking his head as he stared at the device. "It is very complex machinery."

"Tsk. Can you not-?"

"Ah, no. I can," replied Eduard, swiftly. "It will just take a while."

"So we have to take care of these brats for however long it takes you?" growled Lovino, looking mightily unimpressed.

"Brat!" cried Feliciano and giggled.

"Don't talk like that in front of them, Lovi," scolded Antonio, though he was smiling.

"Brat, brat, brat!" chorused Feliciano, Francis and Gilbert.

"Look what you have done," sighed Arthur, rolling his eyes.

"Hey," said a sulky voice. "Are ya just gonna forget about me?" asked Alfred, glaring at them all.

"No," said Arthur, slowly, as the – now older - heroes turned to look at him. "Of course we are not ignoring you."

"You're doing a good job of looking like it, though."

Once again, Arthur sighed. "We will explain everything once we have gotten the... children... to bed."

"So you are ignoring me?" Alfred scowled.

Arthur resisted the urge to scowl and say 'Bloody teenagers'. "No. It is just quite difficult to speak when there are energetic children darting around and getting themselves into trouble."

Alfred merely clicked his tongue, still looking annoyed. Arthur had half a mind to clip him round the ear but the American no longer knew about his strength. If he retaliated, Arthur would have to be healed and waste more time.

"Look, we will get them to bed right now. They have been running around and giving Matthew and everyone else grief before I got here – they are likely tired."

"You have beds here?" asked Alfred, perking up a little. It appeared that he was curious about the headquarters.

"Yes," replied Arthur before turning to Kiku. "Anata wa Kiku-san, tsukarete imasu ka?"

Kiku seemed surprised to be addressed in Japanese and a small smile tugged at his lips. The Gentleman smiled back, patiently waiting for his answer. Inclining his head slightly, Kiku said, "Hai."

"Sonogo, watashi ni shitagatte kudasai."

Nodding, Kiku jumped from the couch, the shirt hanging from his tiny body. Obediently, the boy followed Arthur towards the back of the open area. The Brit led him to one of the many rooms back there. These were bedrooms for the many heroes to sleep in if anything happened and they could not return to their own homes. For example, if Matthew was worried about them, he would demand they stay so he could watch over them. Or, if they had been kicked out of their homes, they could live here till they were back on their feet.

Stopping in front of Kiku's room, he opened the door and was astonished to here someone else behind him. Glancing round, he noted with considerable surprise that he seemed to have quite the following. It appeared that Ludwig had followed Kiku which had attracted Gilbert's attention and he had came along, too. Feliciano and Francis must have been curious for they had materialised, as well.

The children surged forward once the door was open, fascinated by a new place to investigate. Kiku found his bed and pulled himself onto it. Ludwig helped Feliciano up before clambering up himself. His brother, meanwhile, had claimed the beanbag and Francis had curled up on a pile of clothes Kiku had left lying.

Blinking, Arthur nodded slowly in approval. "Well... Goodnight," he said and made to close the door.

"Non!" cried Francis and Arthur turned to him, curious. "Berceuse!"

"Ah, mais..." began Arthur before he realised something. Although lullabies had words, they usually lulled people to sleep by the slow timing and the soothing voice, rather than the words themselves. Perhaps he could sing in English and please them all. He could even sing in French or Japanese if he could remember any of the songs his two friends had taught him. "Oui, okay," he said with a nod.

Looking round, he spotted a chair at Kiku's desk and pulled it round to face them all. Then he began to sing one of the lullabies he remembered his adoptive mother singing: All the Pretty Little Horses.

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, go to sleepy little baby. When you wake, you shall have, all the pretty little horses-"

"Posso cantare, troppo!" Feliciano suddenly cut him off. And, before Arthur could ask him what he meant and scold him for being so rude, the little boy opened his mouth wide. The Gentleman's eyes widened and he glanced round, wondering if anyone would be caught in the blast as he automatically covered his own ears. He quickly remembered he was trying to put people to sleep anyway and only shrugged when Francis immediately fell victim to Feliciano's singing. The others fought it for a while, confused by the sudden intense drowsiness, but they eventually succumbed.

All except Ludwig who must have read his mind as he had his fingers in his ears as well.

Arthur blinked at him and he blinked back. "Oh, no," he muttered, realising the children definitely had their powers. This was no good. He had no doubt they were going to lose some of them across the city if they could sing everyone else asleep, fly off and trap them within clingy vines.

Finally, Feliciano wore himself out, yawned, and settled down next to Kiku. He was out pretty quickly. Now the only one left was Ludwig who gave Arthur a look and also lay down, closing his eyes.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Arthur quietly exited the room, closing the door gently behind him. When he reached the couch, the others were yawning and rubbing at their eyes. They must have heard Feliciano singing.

"What the hell was that?" demanded Alfred, leaping to his feet as Lovino glowered at Arthur.

"Why the hell did you let him sing?" the Italian asked, still looking annoyed.

Shrugging, Arthur said, "I apologise but he started before I could stop him. I do not speak Italian to be able to understand him. At least they are all asleep now."

"Well?" said Alfred, as pushy as ever. "Tell me what's going on."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur gestured at the couch. "You may want to sit down for this." Snorting, Alfred did so and Arthur sat down beside him, gazing at the poor boy who had no idea how much his world had changed in a few short years. "Let me begin at the start."

"Always a good place to go from," Alfred pointed out.

"Yes..." Arthur eyed him, not sure whether to be irritated with the sarcasm or not. "Well, firstly, you are adopted and your twin brother is Matthew."

"Ar-Gentleman! That was a bit harsh, was it not?" asked the man in question, looking sheepishly at Alfred. He shifted his weight as Alfred stared at him.

"Oh, my God!" cried the America pushing himself onto his knee as he swivelled to look at Matthew. "That's so cool!"

"Hm," said Arthur, catching the teenager's attention. "We are all orphans."

"Ah, like Batman."

"No, not like Batman!" Arthur snapped before taking a breath to calm himself.

"Chill! I was just drawing a comparison."

"Yes, I apologise. This is rather stressful to have to repeat."

"Oh. Sorry," said Alfred with a grimace. "So...?"

"We are more like Superman or even Spider-Man," Arthur pointed out. "In that, although we were abandoned or our parents died, we were brought up by other people. You are adopted, too," he added, aware that Alfred hadn't seemed to react to that portion of his previous revelation.

"What? No way!" cried Alfred, looking incensed at the insult to his parents. "My mom and dad woulda told me by now if I was!"

"No. They did not want to upset you by what they... Look, we were all in the same orphanage at the beginning of our lives but we were... 'fostered', I suppose. By scientists."

"Scientists?"

"And they... experimented on us, for want of a better word."

"Eh?!"

"It was behavioural tests... Or so they said. "Arthur snorted at the lie. "In reality, they fed us... things. Did things we do not remember. They were hoping to give us abilities, we think. They wanted the power for themselves. But... Your parents – your adoptive parents – became guilty and spirited you away. With the failure of their experiments, they let people adopt us and we were spread through the world."

"That... kinda sucks, man."

"Quite. Yet, it did not end there."

"Huh?"

"Whenever one of us was traumatised," explained the Gentleman, "we unlocked powers. Super speed, healing, shape-shifting. And..." Arthur laid a hand on Alfred's arm. "Super strength."

"Wait..." breathed Alfred, staring at Arthur. His eyes were probably wide behind the mask he had yet to take off. "I have a super power?" Arthur nodded. "Sweet!" cried Alfred, suddenly, making the others wince. Arthur merely rolled his eyes, having expected this reaction somewhat. "But... What traumatised me?"

"Your parents were killed by one of the other scientists. They had been looking for them for years. Looking for you, too." Arthur watched as Alfred froze, his mouth hanging open slightly. Hesitantly, Arthur rubbed at the arm he still had his hand on. "Are you-?" he began, but Alfred interrupted, flinching away from Arthur slightly.

"What? No way. My parents are still alive. They have to be!"

"I'm sorry, Alfred," sighed Arthur.

"I don't believe you!"

Matthew suddenly tapped Alfred on the arm. Arthur, who hadn't been noticing the others, so absorbed was he in Alfred's confusion, jolted in surprise. Alfred looked round and Matthew held out his hand. When Alfred reached out, too, Matthew placed something in his palm and stepped back.

It was the most precious thing to the American who wore it round his neck when he wasn't out in his costume. Three rings, attached to a chain. Three very recognisable rings. Three precious rings – not just for Alfred, but for his parents, too. Alfred stared at them in disbelief.

"What happened?" he croaked, piercing Arthur with a distraught gaze.

Glancing at the others, who nodded and rose to preoccupy themselves elsewhere, Arthur returned his attention to Alfred and began to explain.

After explaining everything – except who he was; Alfred had enough to take in – Arthur offered to take Alfred home. Since he pointed out how fast he was and how Alfred would be alone to do whatever he wanted all the sooner, Alfred agreed. He wandered off to get changed as Eduard and Matthew reappeared.

"Are you going home after you've dropped off Alfred?" asked Matthew, curiously.

"Hm, maybe. Might come back here," Arthur replied before he yawned. "On second thoughts..."

"What about your mother?" asked Eduard.

Arthur grimaced. "Damn. I forgot about them." He sighed. "I suppose... I'll tell Alfred who I am before I leave and get changed there."

"Makes sense." Matthew nodded. "I'll find a bag for your other clothes."

"Thanks."

It didn't take too long for Alfred to reappear and the Gentleman's clothes to be given to him. They entered the lift and Arthur quickened their descent. When they were free of the building, he took Alfred's arm. The boy merely glanced at his hand before looking round as Arthur smoothly pulled him forward.

A few minutes later, they arrived in front of Alfred's flat and the newest hero blinked in surprise. "Woah. Cool," he murmured. Arthur winced at how subdued he was. There were a few minutes of waiting as Alfred struggled to find the correct key. Finally, Alfred inserted it as the door next to his opened. Before Arthur could decide whether to rush off before he was seen, Alfred had opened the door. As the American stepped into his home, Arthur glanced round and froze in shock.

Ivan was staring back at him in surprise and curiosity. Had he noticed the smaller Alfred? If he found out about the heroes' disadvantage, what would he do? In fact, what was he thinking right now as Alfred brought home the fully suited Gentleman?

"Gentleman?" asked Alfred, looking back at him with a frown. Startled, Arthur glanced between the two of them before nodding at Ivan and hurrying in. Alfred paused to survey the taller man before quickly closing the door. "Erk," he said, looking thoroughly freaked out. "He was giving me this real cold look..."

"Yes..." said Arthur, deciding not to let him know that a super villain was apparently living next door and that said villain knew exactly who he was. Shaking his head to rid Ivan from his thoughts, he added, "There is one more thing I must tell you."

"Oh? Did Bungy die, too?"

"Er..." Arthur stared at him as Alfred made his way into the living room. "Who's Bungy?"

"My pet budgie at home."

"Oh. Well, I am not sure..."

"Didn't I bring him with me?" asked Alfred, his eyes wide.

"I have not seen him."

"Dammit," muttered Alfred, darkly. "I loved that bird, man. He eats these little burgers I make for him."

As Alfred flopped onto his couch – which still had an empty ice cream tub on it – Arthur hovered, his brow furrowed. After a significant disbelieving pause, Arthur decided to speak up. "I really hope you are not being serious."

"Of course I am!" declared Alfred, waving Arthur to one of the chairs. "You said you wanted to tell me something?"

"Yes..." said Arthur, moving forward and in front of him. He was still slightly reeling from the budgie thing but he collected himself and cleared his throat. "Right. This is about who I am."

At this, Alfred immediately sat up. "Are ya gonna tell me your alter ego?" he gasped. "No, man, you can't! That's- That's stupid. You only tell that sorta information to, like, your love interest."

Arthur instantly blushed. Turning his head away, he scowled at the dining table. "Look, I've already done this once so let me bloody well do this again."

"Ah! Your thing with the talking is slipping!"

Sighing, Arthur shook his head and shot a glare at Alfred. "Why do I even consider you a friend?"

"You do?"

"Yes-! Oh, for God's sake!" Arthur snapped and quickly reached up to practically rip his mask off, lifting the hat, too. Glaring at Alfred, he watched the other frown, widen his eyes and, finally, his jaw drop.

"Oh. My. God."

"I'm just a superhero," Arthur pointed out with a smirk.

"Oh. My. God!"

"I think you're overreacting a bit here, Alfred," said Arthur, frowning now.

"Oh my God! You're-! Artie?! What're ya doing here?!"

"Studying English at the same college as you."

"Eh?! What the heck am I studying?! No – that's not the point! You're in America!"

"Well spotted, Lestrade. You do Scotland Yard proud."

"But! In America!" Alfred was now pointing at Arthur, his mouth still hanging open.

"No, this is all an illusion – you are actually in England," said Arthur, dryly, unimpressed by this reaction.

"You're a superhero!" gasped Alfred.

"Correct."

"But... A superhero!"

"For goodness' sake, Alfred!" cried Arthur, throwing his hands in the air, quite fed up with the way Alfred was acting. "You didn't do this the first time, Christ!"

"I don't know why you're praying at the moment," said Alfred with a grin.

Arthur glared. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"Maybe. I dunno. It's just... After the initial shock, I suppose it kinda makes sense. Except that you're here studying English in America."

Scowling, Arthur placed his hat and mask on the table so he could cross his arms. "It's not my fault. My parents and their moving and divorce- Let's just say that Oxford wouldn't accept me because of my 'spotty' education. Besides, why is it so shocking? People can go to college or university wherever they want – if they have the money, of course. And my parents do, naturally."

"Your parents got divorced?!" cried Alfred, sitting up in surprise. "Dude, I would never have expected that to happen!"

With a shrug, Arthur said, "I suppose no-one did. Francis was surprised, as well."

"Who? That little French kid?"

"Yes. Except that he's the same age as me, older than you, and also a superhero. I hope to God that this child version of him doesn't figure out how to control his ability."

"How many superheroes are there?"

After a few seconds to count, Arthur said, "Twelve. And three super villains. In this city, at least."

Alfred whistled, impressed. "That's a lot in one place."

"I know. And there could be more we don't know about. Those scientists didn't exactly say, 'Hey, we experimented on all these children – here's the exact number'."

Nodding, Alfred looked thoughtful. "So, I'm one, too? With super strength?" At Arthur's nod, he grinned. "Awesome. What do the public think of me, then? Am I liked or do the papers hate me or what?"

Tilting his head, Arthur thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose I could show you. Online."

"Online?"

"You have a website dedicated to you. So do I, apparently."

"Really?!" And now Alfred was wide-eyed, sparkling brightly in the dim lighting of the living room.

"Mmhmm. Give me your laptop and I'll look them up so you can see."

"Sure! But let me see mine first!"

With that, Alfred bounded out of the room, in search of the elusive laptop. Arthur heard him open a door and close it before opening another. He presumed he had found the bathroom before moving on to discover his bedroom. It took him longer than Arthur expected for him to return and he wondered if he was okay. Maybe he was looking through his things in there. Arthur tried to remember what it looked like from the couple of times he had been in there but the only thing that stuck in his mind was-

"Hey, why do I have that weird alarm clock?" asked Alfred as he returned with his laptop.

Arthur shrugged and took the computer. "I'm not entirely sure," he lied. Explaining to this version of Alfred would be too much trouble, he had decided. Instead of explaining, he flipped open the laptop and turned it on as they both sat at the table. Then he came upon his first obstacle – the password. "Can you think of what your password could be?"

Spinning it round, Alfred grimaced and tapped a few keys before hitting Enter. A grin spread across his face as he spun it back around. "Turns out I use the same password, even if it's not the same computer."

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Arthur opened up Alfred's web browser. He noted that the American didn't have the little annoying Internet Explorer icon which he would invariably click on accidentally. Maybe he could ask Alfred to get rid of his – and be teased for the rest of his life.

Maybe not.

Quickly he searched on Google for Alfred's site and spun it back round – noting that Alfred had left himself logged on – so that Alfred could see the messages and threads. It wasn't long before the younger hero was absorbed in reading everything, though Arthur thoroughly forbade him from interacting with the fans beyond apologising for being too busy to chat. After a while, he seemed to grow bored and Arthur obligingly searched for his own preferred fan site.

Once it had loaded, he decided that he would log in to show Alfred what you could see. He dragged the cursor over to the log-in link and froze. Instead of the option for logging in or registering, there was a name and the option to log out. The name was what caused him to freeze, though: HERO . He stared at it for a moment before promptly slamming the laptop shut.

"Hey!" cried Alfred. "What'd you do that for?!"

"I-I'm sorry," gasped Arthur, rising from his place and grabbing his things. He had to get away, he had to think, he- "I have to get back or my mother will be getting worried," he explained, hurriedly as he rushed off to Alfred's bedroom to get changed, using his speed to help.

Alfred was Amelia. Amelia was, in fact, Alfred. What did that mean? Why had he done that, led him on, deceived him? Why hadn't he told him? Oh, God – he'd told Alfred about his date with Grace. Which meant that Alfred was in love with someone. His chest ached as he slowed and stood still, now back in the suit he had worn to dinner.

Biting his lip, he returned to the living room to say goodbye – it would be terribly rude to leave without doing so – trying to act as normal as possible despite his turmoil. He found Alfred frowning at the laptop. "Er..."

Looking up, Alfred blinked at him before smiling a little. "Hey. I remembered something."

"Eh?" asked Arthur, his eyes wide.

"Well. For a long time now, I've..." Alfred trailed off, looking sheepish.

A tumble of thoughts were going through Arthur's head. He had remembered something? Did that mean that time would heal them all? How long would they have to wait? Would it work the same for the others as it did for Alfred? Had he remembered being 'Amelia'? Was he confessing something? Was he confessing the 'Amelia' thing? Should Arthur forgive him?

"Er, I've been rather hungry."

Arthur stared. "Huh..."

"And, well, I know I probably don't have much food here – McDonald's for the win! So I was wondering if you knew where the nearest one is? Or the nearest pizza place. And it's number." Alfred grinned at Arthur encouragingly as Arthur stared back, expressionless.

Finally, the Brit roused himself. "No. Sorry. Must dash." And, with that, he slipped from the flat, putting on a burst of speed once he had gotten past the front door. Just as he reached the top of the stairs, however, his stomach grumbled and he stopped. He was as hungry as Alfred, it seemed. Perhaps getting something to eat on the way home would be a good idea.

He breathed a heavy sigh and turned around to walk slowly back to Alfred's door, grumbling to himself. May as well kill two birds with one stone... Knocking, he waited, feeling uncomfortable and a slight blush creeping up his cheeks. This was going to be awkward.

Alfred answered the door and blinked at Arthur. "Forget something?" he asked, clearly perplexed.

"Yes. You."

"Huh?"

"I'm hungry, too," explained Arthur, rolling his eyes and sighing. "Come on."

"Aw, didja take pity on me, Artie?" asked Alfred, grinning.

"But we're not going to bloody McDonald's."

"I don't think they use blood in anything, dude," Alfred said, grimacing.

Sighing once more, Arthur tugged at Alfred's arm as he slowly locked his door. "This has to be quick. I've got a parent to entertain."

This chapter basically happened just for that bit at the end with the remembering and forgetting. Heh. ^^" (Well, also cause we need Alfred to be briefed on what's going on so he doesn't run back home to a house that is likely for sale by now...)

Basically... This may be more a filler chapter... Things will actually happen next chapter, I suppose. When I get around to write it.

Is that it? I think that's all I need to tell you, bar the translations...

Translations (according to Google Translate):

Bon dieu, Francis! Cesse de lutter et porte tes vêtements! = God dammit, Francis! Stop struggling/fighting and put on your clothes!/use your clothes! (Or thereabouts.) Thanks to Akatori for the corrections.

Anata wa Kiku-san, tsukarete imasu ka? = Are you tired, Kiku-san?

Sonogo, watashi ni shitagatte kudasai. = Then, please follow me.

Berceuse = lullaby

Posso cantare, troppo! = I can sing, too!

(And yes, Arthur knows Japanese, too. If he bothered to pick up a "How to speak" German, Italian, Spanish, Hungarian, Estonian, Russian, Belarusian book, he'd totally know them all, as well. He probably does know the bits that have been spoken to him but...

Actually, there's a particular reason he knows Japanese, though.)