There was no way that Alfred F. Jones could stop thinking about this new superhero. It was just so…unusual. A superhero in New York City? Psh! Like that was true!

But, that superhero was the talk of the school. Someone had put Ivan Braginski in the hospital with a concussion and someone had taken Gilbert Beilschmidt to the hospital after he was attacked in an alley…by Ivan Braginski.

But, how believable was this superhero theory? And who would believe it?

Strutting down the hallway, Alfred walked towards the cafeteria. It was hamburger day and he sure as hell could go for one right now. He had to talk to Kiku about this…maybe they could turn it into a comic book.

XXX

Kiku Honda sat in the middle of the lunch room at a table full of athletes. At the end of the table where Kiku sat was the quiet hockey player Matthew Williams. He never engaged in any of the athlete-talk that went on around them. Kiku himself was on the tennis team, but who was he kidding? He was a nerd at heart that preferred books over balls. He could sympathize with Matthew. Talking about sports was meaningless.

When he saw his best friend approach, Kiku blinked in acknowledgement and gave a soft hello. No sooner had Alfred sat down, he began to speak, "Yo! Kiku! Did you hear about that superhero guy that kicked Ivan's ass?" Alfred half asked, half shouted at Kiku.

Kiku knew that Alfred must be ecstatic about this. Ivan was the quarterback, and with him being newly-concussed, Alfred would be quarterback in his place.

"Yes. I heard that he is as quiet as a shadow and as invisible as one, some say he has super powers. He has been secretly 'fighting crime' for little over a month."

"This is crazy! Who do you think would be out of their right mind to do this?" Kiku watched Alfred's eyes and saw something unsettling in them. A nervousness, almost.

It was gone the next minute. His normal confidence flooded back into them again and the arrogant edge returned to his voice, "Like, c'mon, this is New York City. He'll get himself killed by the mobsters or gangs if he crosses their path. What an idiot."

Kiku Honda couldn't help but feel that that was exactly something that the self-proclaimed hero Alfred F. Jones would do.

XXX

For as long as Gilbert Beilschmidt could remember, he had always been gay.

In fact, his ex-boyfriend was Ivan Braginski, and it had been a horribly abusive relationship.

Of course, Gilbert had dumped him due to his mistreatment and ever since then Ivan and Gil had bitter feelings towards one another.

Gilbert Beilschmidt had been left with a warning that night; a few broken ribs, a punctured lung, and several bruises.

The doctors said he would be in pain for the next few days and that the real danger had passed by him. They said that whoever brought him to the hospital had done it just in time. He could've drowned in his own blood if they had waited any longer.

This brush of death had little effect on Gil, though. He was more concerned/obsessed with the thought of the hero that saved him, the pained blue eyes with a splash of relief in them. The way the hero carried him as if he were as light as air…

Who was he?

Gilbert thought that it was Alfred F. Jones, he even asked. But the hero stayed silent. When they reached the hospital, Gil woke up for a very brief moment to hear the name "Distant Vision" roll off the next-to-invisible hero's lips before he slid into the shadows and left Gilbert Beilschmidt to choke on the blood filling his lungs.

Not too long after his savior left, nurses rushed out in a panic, pulling him up and dragging him into the hospital.

The rest was too foggy to remember.

He did, however, remember his brother and his brother's boyfriend rushing into the hospital room in a panic, Ludwig trying to remain calm while Feliciano sobbed.

It was a few days after the alley incident that Gilbert was discharged from the hospital. Ludwig was on a tirade about the dangers the city presented and how he should be more careful and for a day, Gilbert felt like the younger brother.

A day later, he went into school sporting yellowing bruises and a keen interest in the gossip about Distant Vision and his latest acts of kindness.

Distant Vision, according to the grapevine, was relatively tall, blonde, and a total hunk. He could 'turn invisible', he had super strength, and just the night before he had saved a girl from being raped in Queens.

All the girls were in love with him already, picturing Captain America or Thor wearing a cape and rescuing them from the dangerous New York City.

But Gilbert fell in love with the blue eyes that had gazed worriedly into his.

XXX

Matthew Williams slammed hockey pucks into the net with unrelenting force, one after another. It was a habitual stress reliever.

He had so much on his plate.

The blonde had to pass all of his classes, complete all his projects and homework, all while trying to cope over the recent murder of his parents. Then there were rumors flying around about that new superhero, Distant Vision. Matthew's head was spinning from the extremity of it all.

Gazing at the clock for the first time in a few hours, Matthew realized just how much time had passed him by as he tried staving off his negative thoughts and memories.

It was late at night, and Francis was expecting him home soon.

Straightening himself, Matthew glided across the ice gracefully and left the rink, waving good bye to the janitors and Zamboni driver before heading to the shower.

The water was hot and the locker room steamy, but all Matthew could think about was the water pounding on his back and the mobster that murdered his mother and father right before his eyes.

The news hadn't played it up to be as bad as it was, and everyone forgot about it as soon as it happened.

But Matthew knew that it was nothing to take lightly, as the NYPD had. They passed it off as your average, run of the mill break-in and murder, but in reality; there was nothing average about death.

What was worse? The Vargas twins went to school with Matthew and it was their grandfather that had done the job. Matthew saw Romano Vargas much more than he liked to, and Feliciano would chatter to him happily about paint mixtures and new pencils in art club.

They had no idea what their grandfather had done.

As Francis and his parents picked Matthew up to go live with them that horrible day, the Canadian made a silent promise to himself.

It had been a month since it happened. The rooms of Matthew's new room were bare, boxes lined the walls, and the only thing that had really been unpacked was Matthew's stuffed polar bear, Kumajirou. The blonde had thought that his old friend would keep the nightmares away. But they persisted. They scared him into not sleeping at all, out of fear that he'd have to relive the worst memory of his life over and over again. And each night, he'd whisper his promise like a mantra.

When the water turned cold, Matthew knew it was time to go home.

He would not sleep that night. He probably wouldn't sleep again for a long time. He still felt the gaping hole in his chest that his parents murder left, and he had very little to fill it. All that remained of his parents was stale memories, their screams, and a stuffed polar bear.

Slamming his locker, Matthew slung his gym bag over his shoulder and headed out of the ice arena. He had a sleepless night ahead of him.

On his way home, he saw Francis' best friend, Gilbert Beilschmidt a few yards ahead of him, heading the same way.

XXX

Francis Bonnefoy gazed at the clock nervously. And Francis was never nervous, not since his aunt and uncle were murdered and Matthew had come to live with him.

It was almost 9:00 at night. Matthew was not home from the skating rink yet and the city was a dangerous place, especially as of late. Francis had this nagging feeling that something was going to happen to Matthew, maybe not tonight, but soon and it was driving him insane with worry.

Matthew had hardly said an entire sentence to Francis in that entire month that he lived there.

Maybe it was just part of the healing process, he didn't know. But whatever it was, it was no excuse for him to be home so late and worry Francis sick.

He took to pacing, gazing at his watch and the chandelier and anything but the front door. He didn't know what would come through it, whether it be a silent Matthew or a cop bringing horrible news…

Finally, at 9:05 on a Monday night, the door opened, letting both Matthew and Gilbert into the Bonnefoy residence.

Of course, Matthew was silent as usual, not trying to speak or explain why he was so late like he would have a month ago.

And then Gilbert opened his mouth, "So I think I'm totally in love with Distant Vision."

I'm totally going all Batman in this bitch. Tell me how you like this chapter?

SHIPS: GerIta and AmeriPan (BROTP)

Alfred F. Jones - America

Kiku Honda - Japan

Matthew Williams - Canada

Francis Bonnefoy - France

Feliciano Vargas - N. Italy

Romano Vargas - S. Italy

Distant Vision - ?