Skip A/N if desired. Story will begin at the end of the italics.
Hey guys! I have been waaaaay too anxious to get this up, so I decided; fine, I'll do two stories at once. I've already got over eight chapters done for this one.
If you've read any of my other story, Seeing the Grey, this will probably seem a tad elementary compared to it. That's only for the first few chapters though; I wrote them almost a year ago.
I have been scouring this site for an awesome Chelsea/Vaughn fic, but I only found alright ones, and very few actually interested me. There are way too many with the same awful cliches: the apartment scene, the dead animal thing, the completely unlovable, depressed characters that somehow fall in love with each other.
Honestly? Being a depressed low-life is not going to get you a cheery, care-free girlfriend. (Trust me; at least half of the fics I glanced at portrayed Vaughn as a crotchety old man.) So, you guessed it: this is a Chelsea/Vaughn fic. And I'm going to try my best with it.
Anyway, sorry about that little rant. Beware the um... unorganized wrath of the first two chapters. Thanks to everyone who reviews!
"You've got to be kidding me," Chelsea breathed through the fabric of her hoodie, fingering something. After shoving the paper back in her pocket, she drew the hood up over her head and tightening it with a sudden yank. Twenty Dollars. That was it. The hundred she had collected from her father's drawer must've blow out of her pocket, into the feisty winds.
The alley was dark and eerie, but she was well-accustomed to it along with the loneliness of her own echoing footsteps. She'd spent years wandering around here to escape from the horror, and finally she'd mustered her courage to leave it behind and never turn back.
She snuggly set her hands in her pocket and continued down the back path, unsure of where to go. Thunder called menacingly overhead; she had to find somewhere soon.
She turned down the sidewalk, gazing up at the harbor to see gray skies settled behind the hard-working sailors, yelling and quickly trying to get the nets from the boats. Rough, crashing waves licked the docks, pouring their sea-salted water beneath the their old boots. Three times a bell sounded to alert boarding along with the yells of a hearty old man clad in blue and white. He waved several passengers aboard. They clutched their coats to block out the icy wind, a mark that winter still existed in this early springtime.
Chelsea gazed upwards, into the gray and puffy skies, to have a drop splash onto the bridge of her nose and roll down past her lips. The hood had loosened and was now falling slack around her face, gathering the new rainfall. There's no way she could navigate out here in the upcoming storm.
Her glance yanked back to the waves as the man boarded the ship, her feet moving more swiftly than her mind. She stomped onto the docks and caught the boat by the side as she looked the man in the eye.
"How much for a ticket?" she spat out before her mind could register what she was doing.
He tipped his hat down and a smirk appeared on his lips. "Where do you - "
"I don't care where this is going as long as it's anywhere but here. How much?"
The man scanned her for all but a second before motioning with his hand, sending hope across the girl's face. "C'mon aboard."
The boat jerked in her hands, an uproarious horn sounding above them all. He extended his hand to her with a smile on his face, and she vaulted the side of the ship, relieved that she would be going somewhere. Her steps faltered on the newly-slick boards beneath them, but he caught her and strongly escorted her below deck.
"Th-thank you. Here," she said, pulling out the only cash she had. He chuckled and gestured against it.
"No need. You look like you might need that later."
She nodded, ignoring the insult, and slipped the currency back into her pocket. Her deep, ocean eyes search his robust green ones, surrounded by deep wrinkles. His scruffy hair was white, and he was a seasoned captain and fisherman, clearly shown by his garb.
Chelsea also looked just as she was: young and poor. Her hair almost to the point of matting, her clothes disheveled and disorganized, her skin pasty with a swipe of dirt across her cheek, and her personality meek. However, her eyes were overwhelmed with hope and gratitude, something rarely seen by the captain.
He pointed across the hall to an unused room. "We do not have many passengers, so by all means, take a room. We will alert you once we have docked."
"Thank you again," she mumbled sincerely, walking about the swaying room. It was much like her room at home with the blue paint, twin-sized, white mattress and sheets, and the plain dresser pushed into the corner.
"My pleasure. May I get a name?"
"Chelsea," she returned, and he shut the door before anything else could be said.
For awhile she sauntered around the tiny room, just gazing at everything as many times as she pleased - though there wasn't much to see - before seating herself slowly on the bed. Instantly, deeply sunken into the covers, she felt comfortable for the first time in a long time. Her body tipped back into them, her feet swinging up into the air. A grin broke out on her face.
Free. She was finally free.
Before she had longed to be just like her brother; bold enough to stand up for himself and brave enough to move out, but those were the things she hated him for too. He left her behind, and she was only eight years old.
"Brother, where are you going?"
"To college, like a big university. It's like school, but I kinda am going to stay there for awhile," he informed, tossing his baseball cap on backwards and sliding a box off the table.
Chelsea ran around his boxes scattered about the room, wanting to open them up and unpack everything. She halted right next to him.
"I don't want you to leave. It's better right here at home!" she pouted, pulling at the tail of his shirt.
"I have to. I promise to visit whenever I can," he said, "Mom and dad will take care of you."
"But I'm going to miss you! Please, brother."
He knelt next to her, tousled her chestnut hair, and gave a regretful smile. "Aw, Chels, you're makin' me feel bad." His sea foam green eyes gleamed, sorry.
"Who am I going to play with?" she uttered gloomily.
His grin widened whimsically. "Come on, you, Kenzie, and Paris play together all the time. And every time I visit, I'll schedule time just for you and me, okay?"
A faint light shimmered over her misty blue eyes. "Okay."
Their parents barged into the room and scooped up the remaining boxes. Mark took one in his hands, still focused on his little sister.
"C'mon," he said.
They gathered outside and dumped the last of his things in the bed of the his gray pickup. Mark knelt next to the tiny Chelsea one last time, easing a piece of red fabric into her hand.
"I want you to have this, Chels. Uh, mom gave it to me when I was little, so...yeah. Hold onto it," he said, eyeing their mother oddly. She just shrugged and Chelsea tightened her grip with a saddened smile.
"Mama, when will we see brother again?" the little brunette questioned quietly once her brother had driven away.
Her mother placed her hands on Chelsea's shoulders and said, "Sweetie, it might be a few months, but we'll see him again soon - don't worry."
Chelsea straightened herself. She missed her mother so much she couldn't help but sob when ever she thought too much about her. Slowly, she shook her head, trying to dislodge the memory.
That's when things were good. They should still be like that, but they're not.
She dragged herself from the bed, immediately falling to the floor with a long, steady jerk. Her head nearly slammed into the dresser. Thunder rolled ominously and lightning cracked wickedly outside. A faint yell came from the hall, so she scrambled to her feet and tore open the door just to allow water to slosh into the room. She swung her hood off her head to get a better view of the happening.
More sailors screamed, but there was no one in the passage. Her attention turned to the heavy door to the deck. Once her grip closed tightly around it, she pulled on it uselessly. Locked.
Her curiosity suddenly morphed to panic. Like a jet, the seawater poured though the gaps, spraying her worn jeans. She yanked again. And again.
"Come on!" She tried and thrust her fist into the wood. "Open!"
Like an instinct, she kicked the door with all her might and ripped the lock from the wall. But when she tried to propel herself forward, her feet sluggishly sloshed through the water - which came up to her knees now - and slowly hurried above deck.
The rain fell down as a hazy sheet, obscuring view and striking down on the deck like little piercing shards of glass. She whirled around, shouted over and over without any reply. The sailors were gone, and she was to be soon too. She was too late, and it finally occurred to her what was happening.
Running to the side of the ship, she found no lifeboats, life preservers, or jackets through the rain-hazed air.
Her soaking hair flipped around over her face as she turned more, trying to find a way out. She could stay here, but then she'd get devoured by the ocean that hungrily lapped at the deck. However, she couldn't do anything else either.
She's going to drown, and there's no way to stop it.
Her footing slipped and she slammed down on the deck, her terrified gaze finding the bow of the ship, promptly sinking below the waves.
A rush of water leapt at her, catching her by surprise and knocking her off the edge of the ship. Cool, spastic ocean overwhelmed her the moment she gasped for air, locking the salty liquid inside her lungs. It trapped her beneath it and for only seconds she fought before giving in to the torrent.
Fighting wouldn't make her live. She was going to die; that's it. And dying was still better than being back home. Her body fell limp and was sucked beneath the rage where the water was calmer.
Her eyelids came ajar just to stare up at the crashing waters and her arms which daintily followed the rest of her body. The salt stung her eyes, her throat, her lungs, her sinuses; everything. But still, she sucked in another watery breath just to end it sooner. Her face and body constricted, instinctively fighting when she didn't want to.
The current and her own thrashing pulled at the sleeve of her hoodie the moment her body quit, revealing pain-ridden scars that carried up her arm, revealing the things she tried to get away from, and they now haunted her in her final moments.
The last bubbles escaped her lips and her eyelids fell as she dropped deeper, deeper into the abyssal depths. Her brother's face flashed in her mind one last time before darkness settled in around her. It was crude as a result of her memory, and it unearthed the dead words she hoped on for so long.
"We'll see him again soon - don't worry."
The captain looked frantically around the boat.
"Is Chelsea here?" he called.
The pinkish haired girl in front of him turned, holding the tarp over her head. She glanced at him with irate eyes, giving him a crazed expression. She mouthed, "Huh?" as the lifeboat swayed back and forth, nearly overturning and they recoiled. The crashing of waves sounded just as cacophonously as the thunder screeching above. He quickly repeated his words, leaning to her.
"Who's Chelsea?" she yelled back. "The only people here are - "
He didn't hear the rest of her words over the awful, despairing hole coalescing in his stomach, not the sounds outside. The rain beating down on them, the waves that threatened to consume them, and the thunder that rung as a knell for their own deaths were nothing. All moisture in his mouth evaporated, and his eyes widened madly.
"Oh my goddess," he muttered.
The girl returned her focus on not capsizing the raft as he gazed off into space.
That poor girl was dead. He'd sent that girl to her death.
Oh deary me. It was really painful to not go through and fix this, but... ugh.