A/N: I'm gonna be honest, I just wanted to give this a shot. Might not even post it. *shrug*

Disclaimer: I do not own Austin and Ally. If I did, I probably wouldn't need to write fanfictions about it.

Who Can You Trust?

Chapter 1

"Make yourself at home."

Ally nodded numbly at the stranger and refrained from saying that her home was why she was in this mess in the first place and wasn't exactly somewhere she wanted to focus on.

The blonde stranger who'd kept her from an early grave ushered her into his strange apartment and locked the door behind them.

After taking one glance at Ally's wide eyes and panicked expression, he shot her an apologetic look, eliciting the release of a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and an attempt at a grateful smile. The reaction was forced, though, and he'd have been dumb not to notice it.

The two looked at each other for a few moments, sizing each other up in silence. And honestly, the silence was a welcome relief to Ally. Her entire day had been filled with shouting and screaming and police sirens, so silence was just what she needed as a contrast to a day that had been nothing but things she couldn't handle.

"Do you want to take a shower?" he asked, eyeing her hands warily.

Ally cocked an eyebrow at the question and looked down at her hands, surprised to find them covered in blood. The sight of it left her slightly dizzy and she had to actively suppress the thoughts of why that blood was there from flooding her thoughts. She looked up to his warm brown eyes and nodded weakly.

"I'll find you a towel and maybe some clothes," he offered before disappearing into one of the only two rooms behind her.

She took the reprieve as an opportunity survey his apartment, though the word cave would have been a more accurate descriptor. It was dark and its walls were a brown color that didn't serve to lighten it up in any way. He had a couple windows lining the wall on the side of the building that made up the border of the building, but the blinds were drawn blocking out any potential light. Not that there would have been much. It was nearly midnight.

A simple white island separated the living room from the kitchen and both were rather shabby. The living room sported a faded leather couch with a matching armchair and small TV placed on top of a small mahogany end table, which matched the mahogany coffee table between the TV and the couch. The kitchen had an oven, a sink, and a refrigerator. It wasn't too bad, but it wasn't impressive either.

She took note of the lack of family pictures or any personal affects really, aside from a simple acoustic guitar placed across the couch and a keyboard against one of the walls. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink, but otherwise the apartment didn't give off the impression that it hosted a permanent resident.

The stranger emerged from his bedroom presumably with a soft white towel and clothes bundled in his arms.

His eyes found hers instantly and Ally was struck by a jolt of electricity. She frowned in confusion, which he must've misread.

"The clothes will be a little big on you because you're a bit tinier than me, but they'll keep you warm," he explained, offering her a smile that could best be described as swoon-worthy. If the situation had been different, perhaps she might have swooned. She always had been a bit nervous around men to begin with, especially when they were as attractive as he was. Although, she wasn't sure if she'd ever met someone as handsome as he was. His blonde hair fell into place perfectly across his broad forehead and his brown eyes were warm and inviting. For a police officer, he didn't look as serious as the ones she'd met earlier. In fact, he looked like his face was more accustomed to smiling than anything else.

A bit tinier than him was admittedly an understatement. His 6' frame towered over her measly height of 5'2. And while he was decidedly long and lean, he was clearly muscular, while she was decidedly thin and lacked his muscle mass.

She accepted the clothes with a tight smile, attempting to grab them with just her forearms so as not to stain his clothes.

Noticing her difficulty, he laughed and said, "Don't worry about it. I have more than my fair share of bloody t-shirts."

The smile that followed came easier than the last two and she murmured a quick thank you, before slipping past him into the room across from what she assumed was his bedroom. As she shut the door, as she heard him mutter, "Well at least she spoke. That's a start."

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The warm water was usually a relief to Ally. Her sister used to tease her often and loudly about how long she took in the shower. None of that comfort came from the hot water spilling over shoulders in the stranger's house. Distantly, she could register the sting of the scalding water against her shoulders, but all she could feel was numbness, settling around her shoulders. She stepped out and changed quickly, staring at the steam coming off her body wistfully, yearning to feel the warmth so visibly affecting her flesh.

Taking a quick look in the mirror, Ally almost didn't recognize herself.

She looked the same of course. Her skin was always ghastly pale and the dark circles under her eyes were nothing new, since she'd been an insomniac since she was 16 and hadn't slept for an entire night in 9 years. Her caramel colored hair with streaks of blonde at the bottom was also typical. Her cheek was bruised, her forehead sported a cut that had been hastily stitched up, and her neck had large purple bruises around them. But those weren't the reasons she had become unrecognizable. Nothing about her was physically different, except maybe the large white t-shirt and grey sweatpants she'd borrowed.

The only real difference was in her dark brown eyes. They were usually fairly bright and cheerful, but, looking at them now, all she could register was the word empty. Devoid of feeling. They were the eyes of someone who had seen too much, not a young, 25-year-old girl who was supposed to get married tomorrow.

She left the safety of the stranger's bathroom with her blue sundress and brown boots in hand. Soundlessly, she padded into the living room to find him playing around with his guitar on the couch. He started to play a melody that was really quite lovely.

Before she could help herself, Ally asked, "Did you write that?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice and rolled of the couch, grabbing his gun in the process. He turned to face her on one knee, with the gun aimed at her chest.

She raised her hands as if to signal that she wasn't armed and muttered, "I'm sorry I asked."

When he realized it was her, he let out a breath and lowered his gun.

Laughing lightly, he placed his gun on the table and said, "Geez. Don't sneak up on someone in my line of work."

He stood and approached her timidly, as if she were a scared animal that was going to run.

"You are swimming in those clothes," he added, taking her in, "Oh well. We'll be able to get you clothes after we leave."

"Leave?" she asked, hating how scared she sounded.

He nodded slowly and her she noticed a bag by the door. So he'd packed while she was in shower.

"We'll have to stay here tonight and then I'll get you to a secure location tomorrow."

"For how long?"

He paused, choosing his words carefully before answering, "Well, it depends. First, we've got to catch your fiancé. Then, we'll need you to testify, so I think probably until then to be safe. But the trial won't be too long after we catch him because my boss is really pushing for this guy to be behind bars. And with your testimony, he'll go away for sure."

Ally gulped and asked, "And uhm who will be looking after me?"

"I think it'll be just me. Your fiancé is a very powerful man, so he could very well have eyes and ears everywhere. I've been told to take you somewhere safe and let no one know where until they have him."

"Just you?" Ally asked, worry evident in her voice.

He placed a hand to his heart dramatically and exclaimed, "You don't trust me? I assure you that I am the very best at what I do."

Ally smiled lightly, betraying no sense of confidence in his supposed abilities.

"I promise you," he paused, waiting for her to fill in her name.

"Ally," she obliged.

"I promise you, Ally, that I will protect you with my life and nothing will happen to you," he pledged.

She smiled at how genuine he seemed. The sincerity laced in his voice made it difficult for even her intense anxiety to generate reasons why he couldn't be trusted. She felt her fears become temporarily pacified, the words, "I believe you,"slipping past her lips before she had a chance to overthink them.

"My name is Austin," he introduced, offering her his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Austin," she answered, shaking it lightly.

She tried to ignore the sparks she felt at the contact, though the strangeness of the sensation made it difficult, and focused instead on his palm. His hand was rough and calloused against her soft, fairly dainty one and neither rushed to pull away from turned into a somewhat lingering handshake.

A look of confusion crossed his face, before leaving as quickly as it had appeared.

He smiled and leaned a little bit closer to her. Her senses were overtaken by his pleasant masculine smell as he whispered, "No it's not. But that's okay. If I were you, I wouldn't have wanted to meet me either."

He squeezed her hand lightly one more before pulling away, leaving Ally totally stunned by this strange man.

Her mind struggled for something clever to say, quickly supplying instead, "That melody you were playing."

He cocked an eyebrow at her and she continued, only slightly more confident, "Did you write it yourself?"

He smiled widely and walked back to the couch to grab his guitar. Sitting down, he perched his guitar on his lap and called, "Come sit over here," as if the two of them siting together was commonplace.

Ally hesitated for a moment before joining him. Her instincts for distance reigned supreme as she made sure to sut as far away from him as possible, but he instantly slid closer to her.

He played the melody again and asked, "Do you like music?"

She fought the urge to scoff at his question, trying to keep in mind that they'd just met, and answered, "It's my life."

His smile grew and he said, "Mine too. When I'm not saving lives or catching bad guys, I'm working on my music."

She nodded understandingly and volunteered, "I work at a music label."

His eyes widened, so, to be sure she kept his expectations low, she explained, "W-well, I'm just an assistant, but i-in a few years m-maybe they'll hear my stuff. I want to w-work my way up."

He nodded understandingly and the tune slowed down and became softer, taking on an almost hypnotic quality.

Without really meaning to, she began to hum along with his tune and he smiled really widely, his cheeks straining against his face, threatening to split open, spilling his joy everywhere recklessly.

"Why am I so comfortable around you?" she asked, her eyelids drooping tiredly taking her carefully built defenses with them.

He laughed lightly, his chest rumbling with it. The sound, which should have been on some level a disruption, only served to pull her more firmly into slumber.

"I feel the same way," he whispered, his voice all but lost on her exhausted mind.

Ally let her eyes shut and felt herself leaning heavily on Austin, but she was too tired to care about how quickly she'd allowed herself to slip into unprofessional and unfamiliar territory.

Her last thoughts before she drifted off were of the stranger who already felt like anything but.

A/N: Well this is a bit of weird thing for me. This kinda just came out of nowhere. Not entirely sure where this is going. I have an idea though. Please review and let me know what you think.

A/N2: I recently edited this because some of the writing was a little too rough and I've developed a lot, so hopefully this is better.