"Bloody hell, when the hell is that git going to get here..." The British teenager spun around in an effort to gain some warmth in the cold winter night. Snow had not begun falling yet but there had been almost torrential rain and it had frozen on the road, making people more accident-prone than usual. He sighed and shivered, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets and looking up and down the road.

He heard a faint noise from the woods behind him and turned warily, expecting a dog or something to jump out at him. When nothing happened Arthur turned back around- then he heard another noise and spun back around. His heart sped up slightly and he took a deep breath before peering round the trees. He scanned the ground. Nothing but dark, dark, red and white, dark- wait what?

Arthur stumbled forward cautiously, kneeling by the patch of white. He reached his fingers out and felt something soft... like fur, but it was different-

The thing on the ground groaned.

Arthur let out an unmanly squeal and fell back on his backside. He then regained his composure and knelt forward, reaching out again... and coming in contact with skin.

Arthur gasped and slid his hand down the person's skin, finding facial features, then neck, shoulders, and finally chest. He guessed it was a man, or a boy, whoever it was was very small. He brushed back black hair from the person's face. He was deathly pale, the black hair in extreme context with the white skin. He was about to roll him over when-

"YO ARTIE! YA HERE?" He jumped out of his skin for the second time that night and released the boy, turning and peering over the bush he was behind.

"Alfred, you obnoxious moron, come round here!" He hissed, loud enough to make him hear him. The American teenager stepped around the foliage and stared at him.

"Hey Artie, what're you doing here? Find an injured unicorn or something?" He began to laugh before he saw the incredibly serious look on his friend's face. "Dude, whats wrong?"

Arthur sighed before grabbing his hand and yanking him down to the ground.

"Look!" He brushed back the black hair from the person's face again. Alfred gasped and reached out to him.

"What the... who is it?" He whispered.

"I've no idea, moron. What I do know is he might be hurt or something and we need to get him home now." He placed a hand on the opposite shoulder of the boy and the other on his hip, and rolled him over, before turning his face to meet theirs. Both teenagers gasped.

The boy on the ground before them was around their age, with black raven hair and a pale white face. He was wearing a red stained white shirt, a tattered black waistcoat and black trousers, which were stained with dirt. The final, most noticeable thing though, had to be the odd, curved piece of metal that was seemingly welded to the boy's face.

"Holy... what the hell?" Athur reached out to touch the boy's cheek, where the metal was, but Alfred stopped him.

"Artie, we need to get him home for now. You can poke him later." The American's voice, for once, held a hint of seriousness. Arthur nodded silently, easing his left arm under the boy's legs and his right arm under his back and shoulders before lifting him off the ground. He was incredibly light, it was almost like he was carrying a bag for going on holiday.

"Right, come on. I'll shift the stuff in the back, there should be enough room in the car." Alfred stood and ran back to his car, shoving the items in the back seat aside before stepping aside and letting Arthur in. He sat in the back seat with the boy next to him, and his head on his lap. Alfred climbed into the drivers seat, started the ignition and began driving.