Chapter 1

Vaughn watched from one of the ferry's windows as low-lying clouds gradually swallowed the Island, like a ravenous beast devouring its preferred prey. He could barely see the ocean waves that advanced upon on their defenseless island with every wave that crashed ashore, growing in strength and size. This could be the last time he will ever see the Islands.

The winds howled and whistled angrily outside, and Vaughn turned and sat down to watch the only broadcasting television on the ferry. Most everyone from the Island was gathered in the lobby area, watching for the most recent storm updates. The last report, shown not long after they had boarded, had stated that the winds were beginning to reach speeds of ninety miles per hour, and were expected to rise in the next twelve hours.

The Island's residents were in a panic. Most of the children were too young to truly understand what was happening, but even so were in tears, frightened by the reaction of the group as a whole. Most of them had brought next to nothing with them, unable to with the limited amount of time for evacuation they had been given. Sitting in seats next to him, Mirabelle and Julia watched the television intensely, hands gripped together tightly. As Vaughn watched them, Julia felt his stare and turned towards him. Upon meeting eyes, hers immediately filled with tears, and she leaned her head on her mother's shoulder. Mirabelle looked to him next, more composed than her daughter, but her own repressed misery shone through her eyes.

Vaughn didn't want to look anymore. Instead, he looked around the room again, this time catching sight of the old man, Taro. He was talking to one of the emergency evacuation team members that had helped the islanders get off the Island. If it hadn't been for them, they might not have made it off at all.

Taro was waving his arms around, still clutching that rotten old stick he always carried around for some reason. The man shook his head, frowning, and pointed to where everyone else was gathered in a cluster of bodies. Taro glared, and for a minute Vaughn thought he was going to start an argument, but with a huff he turned on his heel and sat down amongst his daughter and grandchildren.

Vaughn had overheard Mirabelle and Felicia speaking earlier about the call that Taro received in the early morning from the closest city that warned the Island about the impending storm. All the two women had known for sure was that they didn't have much time to get out, and that the city's evacuation team would be there at 6 a.m. If the Islanders weren't ready at that time, the rescue team would leave them behind.

With fast cooperation and collaboration, all of the residents had managed to get on the rescue ferry at 6 a.m. on the dot, more or less with enough supplies to last the ride. Vaughn had managed to swipe a change of clothes, enough money to last him at least two weeks, a few water bottles, his work passport, and of course, his Stetson. Maybe it was selfish of him to have thought of mainly himself when packing for evacuation, but the way he saw it, it's not like anyone else here did much different. Except for Mirabelle, maybe. Or Chelsea.

Chelsea. One of the few people on the Island whom he could consider having the title of "friend" after three years. He hadn't seen her, yet. It disturbed him, the unfamiliar feeling of apprehension that blossomed like a weed, deep in his chest.

Looking for the aforementioned girl, Vaughn scanned the room. There were twenty people on the ferry, not including the crew or evacuators. The two natives that lived at the top of the island in the jungles were not onboard either. Vaughn had watched Chelsea from the animal shop's window as she made a mad dash for Wada and Shea's hut, only for her to return alone, soaked and windblown. According to her, they "had no place in such strange thing as boat. Would rather stay on Island, risk dying on the only place they knew as home."

Vaughn couldn't really blame them.

He got to his feet once he spotted her, curled up in one of plush chairs with her dog, Mack. Everyone had witnessed the spectacle between Chelsea and the ferry's captain, who didn't allow animals onboard. Chelsea had threatened not to board if her dog wasn't allowed on, one of the few possessions she held value to. Eventually, the captain gave way, as the winds had picked up speed and the waves were reaching the ferry's deck. Both of them sat on the chair soaking wet, and Vaughn recognized one of Mirabelle's old afghans spread over both girl and dog.

Her eyes were bloodshot and vacant, staring at nothing in particular, as he sat down in the seat next to her. Vaughn clasped his hands together on his lap and leaned backwards, peering at Chelsea from the corner of his eyes.

For the longest time, they sat in silence. Mack squirmed around underneath the afghan until he found a comfortable position, before he too lapsed into the quiet. Vaughn continued to watch the people he'd lived with, more or less, for the past three years. Gannon and Chen sat near each other, watching the broadcast dully while their children, Eliza and Charlie, slept on their laps. Most of the younger adults sat together in a huddled group; Lanna, Denny, Pierre, Mark, and Sabrina. Vaughn had not seen Alisa, Nathan, or Regis, but assumed that they had found refuge in another part of the ferry.

Out of nowhere, the talking amongst the group picked up in volume, voices overlapping and blending together. Vaughn turned his attention back to the television on reflex, listening in to the newest announcement. A serious looking blonde woman had appeared on the glaringly bright screen, next to a data chart.

"The hurricane predicted to hit the recently reformed vicinity otherwise known as 'The Sunshine Islands', or 'The Island of Happiness' will reach the isle in approximately ten hours, but the speed and atmospheric pressure of the wind suggests otherwise. Top wind speeds have been recorded at around ninety five miles per hour, which is borderline levels 1 and 2 on the Saffir - Simpson Hurricane Scale. In the meantime, those rescued from the Island and other surrounding areas are informed to stay put on the rescue boats you're currently on. If you are not already on a boat, there are several evacuation ferries on the way, so sit tight and try to stay in a safe place with evacuation and survival supplies at hand. Do not go outside. The boats already on the way back to our safe houses, our meteorologists would like it to be passed on that the wind and wave intensity may increase the longer you are out there, so it's advised to travel back as quickly and safely as possible."

At that, the woman's speaking was cut, and broadcasting returned to the generic information that had been showing for the last couple hours. Vaughn sighed through his nose quietly, and pulled his hat down. Out of habit, he glanced at Chelsea again from the corner of his eye.

She had changed positions, no longer hunched up in a compact bundle. Her legs were stretched out away from the chair, and her face turned away from him, towards a vacant wall of the ferry. From the windows, you could see the rain collide forcefully with the thick glass windows like liquid bullets.

"Chelsea…", Vaughn murmured. He waited for her to turn towards him, a small smile on her heart-shaped face. But she didn't. She didn't turn towards him, or even confirm that she had heard him say anything.

"Chelsea," he said more forcefully. "Look at me." They were far enough way from most of the group, due to Chelsea's selective seat choice. With slight hesitation, Vaughn reached out to touch her shoulder. She flinched away, before turning towards him sideways. He saw the tear tracks etching themselves down her cheeks, and he froze.

"What, Vaughn? What do you want? I'd appreciate it if you left me alone," she said hoarsely, clearing her throat. Wiping her eyes, she threw a feeble glare at him, daring him to say something.

A few seconds passed before Vaughn replied. "I don't think you're being all that fair," he drawled. "You're never leaving me alone, after all. I guess it's gonna be a mutual thing, now."

Vaughn had expected that his response would at least produce a smirk, but a rivulet of tears fell from her eyes as she squeezed them shut, her head on her knees. Mack whined and bumped his head against her ribcage, but Chelsea ignored him.

"Are you alright?", he asked quietly, looking around discreetly to make sure they weren't drawing attention. Vaughn thought that Chelsea would be mortified if people had seen her displaying weakness in this way.

"What a stupid question," her muffled voice whispered. She looked up at him again, her sapphire eyes glittering with unshed tears. "Do I look like I'm alright? Does anyone here look like they are alright?"

By the time she finished speaking, Chelsea was nearly shouting, and a few people cautiously glanced over to them. Standing up, Vaughn blocked Chelsea from the rest of them and grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stand up. "Let's go for a walk," he said.

"A walk? We're on a ferry, during a hurricane that's potentially going to destroy our home. And you want to go on a walk?", she began shouting again. This time, a few more people looked over to them, and Vaughn glared at them menacingly before guiding Chelsea out into one of the halls of the ferry.

She didn't fight, however. Complying with Vaughn, Chelsea led the way slowly, her eyes scaling the floor while tears dripped onto her boots. She still had the afghan wrapped around her narrow shoulders, and Vaughn found it almost endearing. They stopped once they reached one of the available resting rooms, and Vaughn immediately made a bee line for the coffee machine. With two full cups in both hands, he went over and sat next to Chelsea, who was sitting on the edge of the room's queen bed with Mack. With a small 'thank you', she took hers from him, and for the second time that day, slipped into silence.

With Chelsea, Vaughn never quite felt that silence was uncomfortable, like with some others. It was comfortable enough, and Vaughn preferred not having to speak to fill in the quiet.

"My animals", she said, looking up at him. "What are they going to do? And Shea and Wada…", she finished, her voice breaking on the last word. Vaughn watched as Chelsea lost the control he had always seen in her, and admired, though she didn't know that last part. He was at a loss of what to do, what to say. Who to be.

"There will always be new animals," he countered. "And I'm sure Shea and Wada will make it through. I'm sure with all of the years they've lived in the wild, they've been through storms before."

"That isn't the point!", Chelsea exclaimed, grabbing his arm in a vice grip. Two jeweled eyes met, and smoldered. "That Island was nothing before all of us. Everyone in town contributed, everyone brought it back to life. That foundation could be gone, completely destroyed, in less than twelve hours. That Island means next to everything to me. It's my home, and it's where I discovered what I was supposed to do in my life. It's where I found those great people sitting out there right now. It's where I found you, Vaughn. That place is so…special."

Despite his shock at Chelsea's outburst, Vaughn sighed, and closed his eyes. With no words making their way to his tongue, he settled for the next best response. Pulling Chelsea to him by the shoulder, Vaughn held her head to his chest, feeling her shudder and exhale as she leaned into him. Never one for physical closeness, Vaughn nearly pulled away a few times as a reflex, but managed to push away the urge. As the minutes passed, her shakes and assorted noises slowed down until they became nonexistent. They sat like that for a long time, neither caring to move, or daring to disturb the other.

Vaughn listened to her heartbeat, and could feel it through his vest. He had never been in such close proximity with someone else before, close enough to hear their inhales and exhales. It was strangely comforting, another unusual sensation to Vaughn.

Eventually, Chelsea sniffed, and coughed. "Um…Sorry, about that meltdown of mine you had to witness. Trust me, that doesn't happen often."

She tried to pull away, but Vaughn caught her by the arms again. He didn't want this to end, and that troubled him.

"Let's stay here for a while. Take a little bit longer break from the tension that's in the lobby."

Chelsea shrugged, rubbing her still slightly pink eyes. "Okay. Sounds good to me."

She flopped down on the bed, and slightly grimaced at the uncomfortable mattress. Vaughn gave her a half smile, before sitting down at the opposite end himself. Stretching his legs out, he kicked off his boots and crossed his arms behind his head.

"Thank you," he heard a small voice say from the other side of the bed. Sitting up for a second, Vaughn raised an eyebrow at her as if to say, what are you talking about?

"I…You…Well, you didn't have to do…what you did do. Am I making sense? You know what I mean," she waved him off. "It's like you knew exactly what to do."

Vaughn chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Yeah, I know what you mean. You're welcome. And I just did what I thought would be right to do."

"Well, you thought right then. That was really nice of you. Maybe you aren't such a jerk you tend to be all the time after all."

"Don't count on it," Vaughn grumbled, laying back down. He heard her laugh, and a fine dusting of rose colored his cheekbones as he smiled when she couldn't see.

It was quiet for a few moments, aside from a loud yawn from Chelsea's direction and some shuffling. Vaughn glanced over at her, and smirked at the sight of Mack, who had mysteriously disappeared until now, trying to get underneath the afghan Chelsea was still draped in. Her eyes crinkled in a smile as she kept blocking the way, and eventually he grudgingly settled for a spot on the outside of the blanket.

The old Chelsea was coming back, slowly but surely. Despite the old tear tracks that weren't quite faded from her cheeks.

Vaughn swung himself into a sitting position again, and shifted his hat. "I should get back to the lobby. See if there's been any weather changes, how long we have left on this boat." The ferry managed to absorb the angry waves quite well, so most of the passengers didn't feel it, but the rain and wind knocking against the ferry windows was just as loud, if not louder, than ever.

"Don't go. Not yet," Chelsea mumbled, and Vaughn turned around to see her eyes slit open, her limbs sprawled out and limp. "Stay here."

Skeptically, Vaughn raised a silver eyebrow. "Are you going to sleep? You seem tired."

"Aww, is Vaughn concerned about something? About a person? That would be a first."

He glared at her, frowning. Was she really that dull?

"Very funny. Maybe I'll leave after all." This seemed more like the regular bantering that had happened the most often on the Island. Vaughn couldn't decide if he preferred it this way or not. It was familiar, if anything.

"Nooo, no. I was just kidding. Please don't go. Stay here, lay down, take a nap. Goddess knows everyone could use one here. I'm surprised that more people hadn't nabbed rooms."

"I'm going to go and check on everyone in the lobby. See if there's been any new updates. I'll be back," he said, tugging his boots back on.

Chelsea frowned sleepily. "Okay. When you come back, don't tell me if there's been a change. I don't want to know. And you better come back."

"Yes, Mother," said Vaughn dryly, before exiting the room into the hallway. He walked back into the lobby, where the number had dropped significantly. People must have retired to the available rooms in either of the two hallways. It was understandable, as most of them had been up and in a frenzy since three a.m. The only ones left in the lobby were Taro, Mirabelle, Felicia, and Chen.

Vaughn trudged up to them, and greeted them with a tilt of his hat.

"Is Chelsea okay?", Mirabelle fretted. Her motherly instincts must have kicked in, Vaughn thought sourly. "We saw you lead her out of here, and she seemed upset. Not that anyone blames her, of course. It must have been very hard on her, being responsible for a great deal of the success on the Island. Poor thing…"

Vaughn just grunted, and looked away. "Have there been any new updates?", he asked Felicia.

"Not anything good, dear. We're about four hours from our safe house still, and we're lucky we got off that Island when we did. The winds are beginning to surpass one hundred miles per hour in speed, and according to the broadcasters, the amount of rain along with the growing waves will most likely result in flooding." Felicia sighed, and put a hand to her cheek in despair.

Vaughn nodded, but said nothing before tipping his hat at them again and walking away. He heard Mirabelle call to him, "You take care of Chelsea, Vaughn. I know that's where you're going now. So make sure she's coping alright with everything, or you'll hear from me!"

Vaughn rolled his eyes, glad she couldn't see his face. Opening the door of the resting room Chelsea resided in, he took in her still form and assumed she was asleep.

Grabbing a blanket from one of the dresser's drawers, Vaughn sat back down on the bed, repeating the process of kicking off his boots before he noticed two cerulean eyes watching him. "Yes?", he asked. "I thought you were already asleep."

"Halfway," she murmured. "I heard you come back in, though. Anything new?"

Vaughn hesitated, narrowing his eyes at her. "You told me you didn't want to know."

"Oh, yeah," Chelsea said, remembering. "I changed my mind, don't tell me. I'd rather be ignorant, in this case."

Vaughn chose not to reply, and laid back down where he was before, his feet by her head. He was staring out the window to his right, counting raindrops, when she said, "Turn yourself around."

Vaughn glanced at Chelsea. "What?"

"I said, turn yourself around. Put your head down here, and your feet down there, like I am. I swear, you weren't this dull when I first met you, cowboy…". Chelsea giggled drowsily.

"You're slap-happy. Go to bed," he retorted. She was just as quick with her response, saying, "Not until you do as I say."

Sighing, Vaughn turned himself around so that his face was even with hers, and she was grinning in satisfaction.

"Are you happy now?", Vaughn growled, rubbing his forehead.

"Yes, thank you. You're like my man-slave," she said, still watching him.

"That's just great," Vaughn muttered, giving her a half-hearted scowl. "Your man-slave."

Chelsea didn't reply out loud, but smiled and closed her eyes. Vaughn couldn't help but to study her face; she became a completely different person when her eyes were closed. It was interesting to him.

In a flash, they were open again, blue projecting out at him. "Thank you again. For everything," Chelsea said to him. She scooted a few inches closer to him, and he could feel the warmth radiating off of her. What was she doing?

"Like I said, it's nothing."

"But it is. You don't have any idea," she said. Chelsea's eyes had turned intense once more, and Vaughn was reluctant to meet her eyes for very long.

"I do," he said. Turning around, he hid the slightest blush from her, unwilling to show her the affect she could have. He didn't want to believe it himself.

"One more demand, man-slave. Turn towards me, I'd like to see your face."

"Why does it matter?", Vaughn slurred, battling a sudden onset of drowsiness.

"It doesn't, it's just a preference. Please?", Chelsea cajoled.

Vaughn turned back to Chelsea, as if he were a puppet, under the control of someone else. "This is the last favor I'm doing for you for a long time," he muttered. "You owe me now."

"Okay," Chelsea sighed, before closing her eyes for the final time. Within what seemed like seconds, she was out, her face relaxed.

Vaughn scooted back a few inches, and closed his own eyes before shifting to his stomach. He did abide to her wishes, though, and kept his face tilted in her direction.

Despite the confusion and uneasiness Vaughn drifted off to sleep faster than usual, his insomnia helped by the presence of someone he cared deeply for sleeping near him, whether or not he willingly accepted it. He even almost managed to forget about the devastation that lay in the hours ahead.

Almost.

Author's Note: Hi readers! I'm glad you decided to check this fic out. The idea came to me after reading an article about the Hurricane Earl that's sweeping across the eastern coast of the US, currently. To anyone that has a possibility of being affected by the hurricane, I pray that you're safe, healthy, and with others. I'm not entirely sure how long this fic is going to be, but maybe five or so chapters. We'll see. Feedback is appreciated, and thanks for reading!