"Can you come and pick me up? Please, dad."

It was the middle of the night, and you were supposed to stay over at your friends house for the weekend. Aaron was about to go to bed when his phone rang, a frown forming on his face as he recognised your caller ID.

He answered the call, and you immediately begged him to come and pick you up. Aaron agreed, of course - you sounded distressed, scared even, and Aaron knew that something must have happened.

Half an hour later, Aaron arrived at your friends house and saw you already standing outside, your duffel bag clutched to your chest. You hurried towards his car, barely letting him hit the breaks before you climbed in.

Aaron looked at you through the rearview mirror, a worried expression on his face as he pulled off the driveway and back onto the street.

He decided to wait with the questioning until you two were home, but once he parked the car, you already bolted outside and through the front door.

Aaron barely caught up to you as you reached the stairs to your room, gently grabbing your wrist to keep you from running off.

"You need to talk to me, sweetheart." He said, keeping his hand on your wrist, his grip gentle yet leaving no room for discussion.