They Come at Night (Crime/Romance) (OxO MATURE)

Vaughn's smirk faded into more of a perplexed expression. "You just want to walk me home," he repeated, a brow raising in slight confusion. That was until he mentioned the killer. He could have choked on his drink in that moment if he had one.

"I would have no worry about the killer. He only kills abusers, you know," he commented, looking away as he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't take strangers to my home anyways. So, I can either come to yours or go on my own."

He wouldn't ever risk showing some stranger the gas station. It was sure to have incriminating things strewn about. He finished off the last of his drink before looking at the man. "Besides you're a stranger. I don't even know your name. What is it?" he pressed, leaning forward a tad now. It was clear that he got a bit more talkative now that he had a bit of liquid courage in his system.

Vaughn listens to Aragorn talk about being a bodyguard. He gave the man a once over, and it made a bit of sense to him. He seemed to be fit and well built enough to have a job like that. “Vaughn,” he answered when asked about his name. He wondered if that would come back to bite him in the ass, but decided not to worry about that now.

Vaughn finished the last bit of his drink before taking out his wallet. He gave a couple of bills to the bartender to pay for his drinks, along with a bit extra for a tip. “Well I’m ready to get out of here when you are,” he hummed, getting to his feet. His side ached sharply from the stab wound and he bit his tongue, keeping himself from grimacing at the pain.

Vaughn followed after Aragorn, a tad surprised by the man’s height. He really did hope that the man wouldn’t try anything, as he was not in the right condition to be fighting with someone more fit than him. Normally he would at least try, but not with his current injuries.

Once they were inside, Vaughn took note of the things around him. “That’s alright, looks better than my place right now,” he replied. The gas station was always a mess. He tried to keep it clean but it got dirty so fast due to his ‘job’. He often came back covered in mud, dirt and blood, and always ended up tracking it everywhere.

“No, I’m ok, I don’t need anything to eat. Thank you, though,” he answered. He slipped his shoes off by the door, not wanting to be too rude in the strangers home. He was exhausted though, and really couldn’t wait to get into a bed and pass out.

Vaughn was more than happy about the size of the bed. He had what was considered a twin sized cot at the gas station. His legs always hung off of it, and it’s led to him having thousands of sleepless nights due to discomfort.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning back onto his elbows, watching Aragorn. “You’re going to sleep on the floor? The bed is big enough,” he said, before tilting his head in a dog-like manner. “You’re not going to sleep with me?” That’s what he had been under the impression would happen, so he was a tad confused on why else the man would invite a stranger into his home to stay the night.

Vaughn hummed in reply to Aragorn’s rambling. He felt a tiny bit disappointed, but guessed it was for the best. He wasn’t in his right mind at the moment due to the alcohol. “Your loss,” he said in a sing-song tone, pushing his hair back. He let his gaze wander to the computer, being a tad curious about what Aragorn could possibly be working on at this time.

At the offer of clothes, Vaughn sat up. “That would be appreciated. I’ll borrow something of yours, if that’s alright,” he replied. They would be a tiny bit big on him but that was not a big deal. He would just be sleeping, after all.

(You're good!)

Upon seeing that Aragorn was actively looking at information about the killings, Vaughn froze. Was Aragorn a police officer? Detective maybe? He had said that he was a bodyguard, but maybe he also worked for the police. Why else would he be looking closely into the murders? Did he suspect Vaughn or was it a coincidence that he just happened to invite the killer he was searching for into his home?

Vaughn snapped out of his shock, composing himself as quickly as he was able to. He needed to act natural, he was ok. The clothes, he needed to get a change of clothes. He got up off the bed and stepped to the closet, opening it up. He grabbed a simple t-shirt and pair of pants, then excused himself to the bathroom to change.

Once inside, he locked the door quickly and leaned back against the door. He caught his breath, sliding down to sit on the floor. What terrible luck he had. Figure stood above him; its head tilted down. It stared at him with that toothy smile. 'You could kill him,' it hissed. Vaughn shook his head quickly, eyes shut tight as his hands gripped at his own hair. No, he couldn't. Not in this state where he was already recently injured. He was stuck.

Vaughn was trying his hardest not to panic. He did not need to lose his cool here. He looked to the bathroom window and debated on climbing out. No, that would be a clear suspicion, and Aragorn would now know his physical description and name. He would be fucked if he did that, whether he managed to get away in the moment or not.

He flinched harshly at the knock on the door, his heart beating loud in his ears. Paranoia ran rampant in his brain. He was currently convinced that Aragorn knew everything. He would come out of the bathroom and there would be multiple officers in the room, waiting to lock him up. Then, his life would be over. Everything would be over.

"I'll be right out," Vaughn replied, trying his hardest to keep his voice steady and calm. He had to toughen up and get through the night. Once he did, he would be home free, and he never had to see Aragorn again. He quickly threw on the change of clothes, folding his up to put off to the side of the bed. He came out from the bathroom, setting the clothes down in their place before sitting down on the bed. Aragorn was on the floor by the bed, and Vaughn did his best to move silently. He got onto the bed, laying down and staring up at the ceiling. He had a feeling it would be a long night.

Vaughn had eventually been able to drift off to bed, but was quickly woken up by the sound of a scream. He jerked awake with a startled noise, his hand instinctively going to his hip. He didn’t have his gun on him, it was tucked away with his pile of clothes that was set aside. His heart was pounding, and he was now sitting up- body tense and eyes wide with shock and confusion.

“What the hell, man?” Vaughn breathed out, “Gave me a fucking heart attack.” Now that the initial shock was over, he was a bit less tense, but still on edge. Especially with what he found out last night. He hasn’t forgotten about that, as much as he wanted to. He almost wished that he had never seen Aragorn looking into him in the first place. A bit of blissful ignorance sounded nice right about now. He was almost home free, though. He just had to get out of there at this point. Maybe that would be easier said than done.

Vaughn sat there with wide, surprised eyes. He watched Aragorn breakdown and had no idea what to do to even begin to comfort the man. He rubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to get rid of the tired feeling. He felt like he hadn’t slept at all, and would honestly love to just go back to sleep.

“It’s ok, you just startled me,” he breathed out. He couldn’t fault Aragorn for that. He had his own fair share of night terrors from time to time. They were usually repeats of what happened to him and his family as a child. There were many moments he woke up screaming and shaking like a leaf.

Vaughn watched silently as Aragorn left, jaw clenched tight. Now he knew he couldn’t leave through the windows, even if he wanted to. He sighed as he eased himself up and out of bed. He made his way to the bathroom, pulling the shirt off and looking at himself in the mirror. His body was toned and adorned with scars. He had a tattoo on his forearm that read ‘Adeline.’ The main focus was the wound on his side. He peeled there bandages back to take a look at it. Thankfully, the stitches were holding and the wound hadn’t reopened. The messy job would do until he could get back to the gas station and take care of it properly again.

He stepped back out into the main bedroom, shirt still removed, and walked over to the bed to find his clothes. He would have preferred to leave as soon as possible and not allow Aragorn ask many questions once he returned. His gaze shifted to the computer, tempted to take a look. What did the man know about him and his case? Why was he looking into it in the first place? The answers were on that computer.

Vaughn froze like a deer in headlight when Aragorn stepped into the room. He hasn’t expected the man to be back to soon, and was glad that he hadn’t tried to look in the computer. He put his hands up, taking a small step back and shaking his head. “No, really, I’m ok. It’s no big deal-“ he started quickly, moving to grab his shirt.

He was stopped and moved to the bed where he sat. “Come on, I’m fine. It’s not that bad,” he argued, covering the wound with his hand. Of course the stitching wouldn’t last long, which is exactly why he needed to get back to the gas station and change the stitches and dressing. “Let’s not do all of this.”

Vaughn debated shoving Aragorn away, not much enjoying his personal space being forced into. He decided it was a losing battle and that he should just accept the help. It would save him time later, and Aragorn could probably do a better stitching job than he could. That wouldn’t be difficult, considering his current work was far from practical.

He huffed in defeat, laying back and letting Aragorn do his thing. “Go on ahead, do what you want,” he grumbled, tilting his head back and momentarily shutting his eyes.

Vaughn’s jaw stayed clenched through the stitches. A couple of grunts here and there could be heard, but without pain medication, he took the pain of it surprisingly well. He’d stitched himself up countless times and had much worse injuries in the past, so this felt like nothing to him at the moment.

Once they were all done, he sat back up, taking a look at the work. Practically professional level. He guessed that Aragorn may have a medical background judging by how clean they looked. “I’d much rather not talk about it,” he answered, pleased to have his personal space back. He thought back to the injury. During the struggle with the man, a pocket knife had been pulled. The man had sliced him across his side before Vaughn was able to get it out of the way.

Vaughn holds his hands up, shaking his head. “I’m ok, really. I’ll be fine, it doesn’t hurt that much,” he answered. Being there knowing that Aragorn was looking into his case made him nervous. He was fidgety, and his fingers kept twitching anxiously. He wanted to get out of there so the feeling of paranoia would begin to subside.

“I should really be going, I have things I need to get to,” he said, an excuse that he hoped would work. He reached to pick up his shirt, slipping it on over his head with a grunt, his side aching. He grabbed his pants from where they had been folded and excused himself, going to the bathroom to change. Upon returning, he had the Aragorns borrowed clothes in hand, folded neatly. “Thanks for everything.”

Vaughn took the paper from Aragorn. He arched his brow when Aragorn said he needed to repay him. “I think you repaid me enough by fixing my shit job of stitches,” he said with an arched brow. The man really felt that bad about waking him up?

He had no idea if he would be calling Aragorn. What would he need? Doing that would provide him with his own phone number as well, which could be dangerous due to Aragorn looking into his case.