Go out and investigate/help.

"...Stay here, babe." You tell your fiancé, finding your discarded shirt and a pair of sweatpants to put on.

"Wait, what's going on?" She asks you. You can hear the apprehension in her voice.

"Someone's out there... and I think they might need help." You say, quickly putting on your clothes.

"You're really going out there at this time at night?" Christine inquires, getting out of the bed. You and Christine have known each other for years. She started out as a high school crush, one that you thought was way out of your league and wouldn't have imagined accepting your marriage proposal seven years later. You started dating a few days after you got enrolled in college, seeing as she went to the same one you went to. After you both finished college and graduated together, you both decided to take the next step and find a home to live in together. You proposed to her a little over two months ago. She's the perfect woman in your eyes. Not to say that the relationship between you both was always smooth sailings, but you always overcame whatever obstacles you both had throw at you. She's honest, loyal, sweet, caring, supportive, a freak in the sheets... She made your days worth living, and you can't wait for the day she'll be able to take your last name officially.

You and Christine are both twenty-five years old, though her birthday is after yours. She stood about 5'4, weighing in at a out 125 pounds. She isn't skinny, but isn't particularly very overweight either. She haa meat on her bones, most of which comes from her thighs, butt, and breasts. Her stomach is still slimmer than her hips, but her body isn't as athletic looking as it was in college. Not that it's any issue to you, you still love caressing her body just as much as you had when you first got the chance to.

Her hair is a rich, silky brown color, though she currently rocked the messy bedhead look from being in bed, as well as the earlier sex session moments before you both fell asleep. Her eyes are a lovely light brown, almost hazel, which magnified the intensity of her facial expressions when showing her emotions, be it joy, anger, etc. Her skin held a hue that was just one tone darker than peach, but not necessarily brown. Her genes were mixed with more than one nationality, seeing as her father was half black, and her mother half Mexican. C-cup bras fit her breasts comfortably, and her bottle cap-sized areola was a very light shade of brown, three or four tones above the color of her breasts. Her butt was round, and though not as firm as it was a few years ago, still looked amazing and jiggled with almost every step she took while naked.

You love this woman dearly. You can't wait to start a family with her.

"Yes, Christine. I can't really tell, but I'm pretty sure someone out there needs help. You hear them yelling, right?"

"So how about we just call the police and let them handle it?" She responds, walking up to you.

"I don't think we have the time if we want to help them. One of them seems like they need help, like now." You tell her, still looking at the two figures grappling around, "But call the police anyway. I'll be out there in the meantime seeing what I can do."

Christine seems unsure, but nods her head, "Okay, I guess..." She holds your chin and plants a small kiss on your lips, "Just be careful, alright?"

"I will."

Soon you are fully dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt you yanked from your dresser. Behind the dresser was a heavy steel bat that you bought a few years back, not exactly for baseball purposes. You figure its better to be armed, in case shit gets real out there.

You exit your home and the rain immediately begins soaking you and your clothes. You see the figures a few yards away and begin to approach with caution.

Now that you're closer, you can see that the attacking person on top of the other had a torn wife beater that barely hung onto his body. From behind, he seemed to be a middle aged caucasian male, one that you guess you might have been in a biker gang at some point. The person below him looked to be a younger man, probably some college kid. He had ginger hair and a somewhat thinner frame than the other guy. He wore cargo pants and a white long sleeve t-shirt... that was stained with blood in the front.

As the defending person grabs both of the attacking persons wrists in an attempt to restrain him, he spots you approaching and calls out to you for assistance.

"H-Hey, Dude! Man, y-you gotta help me out her man, this fucking guy is insane!" He pleads.