Author's Note: Hey guys! First of all I want to say thank you to everyone that reviewed the first chapter. Your overwhelming positivity means so much to me, and I love hearing from all of you so please keep it up! I also want to apologize real quick for how long it's taken me to get this chapter to you. I admit I lost a lot of motivation when the news came through that GMW would not be getting picked up. I know that hit all of us very hard, especially because we didn't get any real tangible Season Four explanation as we were promised *insert growl here*. I also have some other IRL stuff going on that has to take precedent from time-to-time. But have no fear, I do not plan on abandoning this fic and I hope you'll all continue to read as I write! This is a nice long chapter for you (about twice as long as the first one). It's all from Lucas's perspective and gives a lot of good background info. As always, special thanks goes to my lovely beta Jackie who probably read through this chapter a hundred times with me over the course of the past few months. You wouldn't be reading this if it weren't for her. Please read, review, and most of all… enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Girl Meets World in any way, shape, or form. If I did I would have let the original creator complete the vision he had for it, even if it meant it had to move to a different network. Because, you know, I'm not that shitty.

Chapter II: And With the Weight of His Past Heavy Upon Him the Sky Cracked in Two

Drifting slowly into consciousness Lucas was made painfully aware of how stiff his body was. His eyelids were heavy and he could hear muffled voices, as if they were coming through a radio but with the volume turned down. He tried to move, but his motions were sluggish and he seemed to be tethered to a hundred different wires. He cracked open his right eye and winced at a blinding light that was hanging over him. It took every ounce of his energy just to open the other one. Where am I…? he thought groggily.

"Lucas!" shrieked a distinctly feminine voice.

Warm hands clutched his left arm. His gaze shifted slowly over and fell upon the shining face of a pretty brunette. Lucas smiled weakly in return. "Hey Riley, what's goin' on?" he croaked.

"You don't remember?" asked a curious voice. A pale skinny boy stepped out from behind Riley. Farkle was holding the black cowboy hat Pappy Joe had lent him loosely by his side. Lucas shook his head. He immediately regretted it, groaning softly at the sudden stabbing pain he felt behind his temples. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Farkle remarked with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Riley made a sudden movement and Farkle yelped, now massaging his side with a wince. "What exactly do you remember, Lucas?" she asked worriedly.

He tried to think but only flashes of disconnected memories came flooding back to him. Eddie had just been thrown off his bull and Lucas was watching Riley and Maya argue. That's odd. Riley and Maya rarely disagreed about anything. Zay said something about him dying. Why was he going to die? His head throbbed painfully. Tombstone. He was going to ride Tombstone the Bull any minute. Then a pair of piercing blue eyes blazed into his mind's eye. Maya was looking up at Lucas with genuine fear in her eyes, but he couldn't hear a word she was saying because his brain had immediately short-circuited. On a good day, Lucas could barely focus enough to string two sentences together when she locked eyes with him like that. Now her expression was soft and pleading, two words he thought he would never use to describe her, and all normal brain function had gone out the window. The moment dissolved before he could even begin to regain his bearings. All that remained was the picture of Maya's face falling as hope failed her, and a feeling of helplessness in his heart as he watched her walk away. Lucas's memory shattered into jagged shards of intangible thought. There was a black bull in a shoot. There was a sound of rope burning flesh loud in his ears. Tombstone slammed against the metal bars in a rage, nearly bucking Lucas off in the process. His grip tightened on the saddle, the creaking sound of worn leather thundering in his ear drums. Far off in the distance a head of blonde hair gleamed in the Texas sun. This last vision soon fell away from him, and Lucas Friar knew Maya Hart was gone. The cold feeling of hope burning out gripped him and his world went dark.

"Where's Maya?" Lucas asked suddenly. He looked around the hospital room but couldn't see the spitfire blonde anywhere. Worse than that, he couldn't hear her. He could really use a ha-hurrr right about now. Riley and Farkle looked at each other uncertainly, but neither said anything to answer his question. Lucas looked away from the two that were clearly having a silent conversation, and noticed Zay hunched over in a chair at the back of the room. Strange, Zay is never this quiet. He's too busy cracking jokes, always trying to be at the center of attention. "Zay… where's Maya?" Lucas pressed. Zay looked up at the sound of his name, focused his eyes on Lucas for a few seconds, and then shaking his head looked back down at his feet. Lucas had enough of this silence. "Okay, what's with everyone? I'm fine. See?" Feeling stubborn he moved to sit up, but immediately let himself fall back on the bed when a great stab of pain shot through his ribs. "Okay so maybe fine isn't the right word to use, but I'm not dead. Y'all are acting like you're at a funeral. And will somebody please tell me where the hell Maya is?" he demanded, glaring around the room.

Farkle was the first to speak up. "Maya couldn't come," he stated plainly. Riley looked at Farkle curiously, quirking her eyebrow at his choice of words.

"What do you mean she couldn't come? She's okay, isn't she?" Lucas asked. He heard the concerned edge in his voice as soon as he spoke and immediately regretted the outburst; Riley was now looking at him with the same look she had just given Farkle. Lucas mentally kicked himself.

"Maya is fine, Lucas. She's back at the ranch," Riley answered calmly, but with a shortness he didn't usually hear coming from her. Lucas blew out the breath he didn't realize he was holding in. "But she won't be coming," Riley added with finality.

Lucas blinked at the brunette, confused by her lack of explanation. "Wait… what? Will somebody please fill me in on what's going on?" he demanded. They were dodging his question and he could feel himself getting angrier and angrier with each passing second.

Riley took a deep breath. "After what happened to you at the arena Maya refused to come with us." Lucas's mouth opened but Riley quickly interrupted him. "I don't know why," she admitted. At the edge of his vison he saw Farkle's eyes flash knowingly, but Lucas kept quiet and let Riley continue. "I'm sorry, Lucas. I tried to convince her, but it was like she was a whole different person. I don't know what's going on with her. I tried," she repeated. Her breath hitched and her face screwed up into a grimace. She looked down, refusing to meet his eyes. Farkle wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they began to tremble and Riley leaned into him.

Speechless, Lucas turned away from them and looked back over at Zay, who was now watching him intently from his seat in the corner. In fact, they all seemed to be watching him now, waiting for whatever came next. Lucas laid his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He began counting the dots.

A long silence followed, broken only by the soft beeping of the machine tracking his vitals. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other three looking at each other worriedly. They seemed to be unsure of what to say. Riley was the first to speak. "Lucas?" she whispered, shakily reaching out to him. Farkle touched her arm and she stopped just short of contact. The young genius continued to watch him closely, calculatingly.

After what felt like hours Zay cleared his throat and stood from his perch. "Come on guys, I'm starving," he announced. He briefly glanced in Lucas's direction, shook his head, and quickly stepped out through the door.

Farkle leaned into Riley. "Come on, Lucas isn't going anywhere. He's going to be fine, Riley," he whispered. Turning back to Lucas, who still hadn't changed his position, he told him, "it's going to be okay, Lucas." Lucas felt a sudden pang of anxiety sweep through him. Farkle's choice of words had just confirmed his growing suspicion that there was more going on than Lucas knew. He continued, "the doctors told us you have some cracked ribs and a pretty serious concussion, but they say you're going to make a full recovery." He paused. "You were lucky," Farkle said to him seriously. "Let's go," he then whispered in Riley's ear. She nodded slowly, still staring at Lucas who was refusing to meet either of their eyes. Riley took Farkle's outstretched hand and together they walked out of the room side-by-side.

Lucas's mind was reeling with questions. Why would Maya refuse to come see me? He knew that he wasn't exactly her favorite person in the world, but surely she'd want to at least make sure he was okay. Maybe she really does hate me. Lucas tried to mentally shake himself of this thought. They'd spent so much time together over the past year. For instance, the teachers at John Quincy Adams often paired them up as project partners. He assumed it was just because their names were listed on attendance sheets together. Riley and Farkle always seemed to get put together the same way. Whatever the reason was, this meant they spent a lot of time at each other's houses. When Maya wasn't too busy teasing him or coming up with new nicknames to call him, she surprised Lucas when she turned out to be a really great listener. He also took note that when a subject came up that was personal to either of them she became very thoughtful and withdrawn, but also asked appropriate questions at the right time and Lucas never really felt uncomfortable answering her… except for when she would ask about his past. Maya was definitely determined to figure out what it was that Lucas had done to get expelled from his old school, and she always looked disappointed when he quickly changed the subject. It wasn't that he didn't trust her to not tell everyone, though he knew she would eventually tell Riley if she found out, but he's witnessed what that knowledge has done to several of his relationships, and if he was being honest with himself Lucas truly could not handle the idea of losing Maya Hart. She was the only one of his friends that knew about his dad. She really understood what it felt like to have a hole in your heart where your father was supposed to be. He could still remember the night he walked her home from his house and, standing outside her bedroom window, let a weight off his shoulders he felt he'd been bearing alone his entire life. Maya didn't even seem to think twice about it before giving him the first true hug he could ever remember receiving from her. Despite the cold that bit at Lucas's cheek, warmth filled his body from head to toe. His heart thumped heavily in his chest trying to break free of its cage, desperate to be with hers in the space between them. Her heart fluttered fast and erratic… wild and untamable as she was. Suddenly he was overcome by an image of this very same girl in a pretty red dress. Her bright blue eyes were shining up at him as she jumped around to the beat of a song on the dance floor. Her blonde locks flowed around her and she grinned at him from ear to ear. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her, and he knew then that he would without a doubt give his life to protect that happiness. In that moment it was like he could finally breathe again, and this moment here, as they held each other in the cold winter air, he felt no different. Lucas was sharply brought back to reality when her grip loosened. She drifted away from him and his breath froze in his lungs. A chill that had nothing to do with the snow on his shoulder stole over him. Maya looked him in the eyes and his heart came to a gripping stop. He fought to unfreeze himself as he heard her tell him it wasn't his fault. Then she was saying goodnight and scrambling through her window before Lucas could even say a word. Maybe it was all an act and she's just been pretending to be your friend to get dirt on you. Lucas snorted. There was no way Maya was that good at acting. He'd seen first-hand how over-the-top she was the day she had pretended to be Riley. Her mother might be an actress but that girl doesn't have a single acting bone in her body. Then Lucas thought of how everyone else seemed to be perfectly content with Maya as their Riley. He felt a bubble of anger rise inside his chest. Lucas didn't even want to imagine what the world would be like without Maya in it, and he would fight tooth and nail for the rest of his life to make sure that never happened. Maya Hart would always have a place in his world, and a silly identity crisis wouldn't change that if he had anything to say about it. The real question is why you're so fixated on Maya when you're lying in a hospital bed barely able to move. Lucas was at a loss to this, so to avoid the burning question he conveniently turned his thoughts to his current predicament. Karma. That has to be it. He'd been waiting for this day for nearly three years now and it had finally arrived with a vengeance.

Approximately Two Years Ago in Austin, TX

"Hey, Friar! I think that's Judy the Sheep right there! You better run! She might charge you!" A chorus of laughter followed the taunt, but Lucas could only hear blood pumping through his veins as his class walked around the large metal fencing. This had been the chosen end-of-year field trip for the seventh grade class; a tour of the city's bull-riding arena and various facilities attached to it. Lucas had begged his father to not make him go with the rest of the class. He had refused of course, giving him the same sanctimonious rhetoric of facing his "past mistakes" as he always did, because how else would he "ever become a man" if he "couldn't do a simple thing such as swallow his pride". Lucas thought this to be a pretty ironic thing to say while polishing off your fifth glass of Kentucky mash, but he didn't say anything. He had learned a long time ago not to make his father angry, especially when he'd been drinking. And his father was always drinking.

Indeed the young man taunting him had been correct. There was a small enclosure not far away full of sheep grazing in the grass. Lucas tried to not show a reaction at the sight of it, nor to the group of kids snickering in his direction. Despite this his fist clenched hard at his side in an effort to control the storm of rage that brewed inside of him.

"Look everyone! Friar's gettin' ready for a fight! Good thing none of us here are weaker than any of these sheep, or we'd all be in real trouble!" More roars of laughter followed the jab.

"That'll be enough, Mr. McCullough," interjected Mr. Collins from the front of the group. The laughter died to more snickers, but Lucas knew better than to think McCullough was finished. Clearly he and their classmates had been cooking up a plan ever since they heard this was where they'd be going on this trip. As if the day-to-day harassment wasn't enough. McCullough wasn't much of a threat when he was alone. He was shorter than Lucas, though not by much. Pale, skinny, and freckled, he also had the air of someone who didn't have to work for any of what he had. His father was a big-time rancher here in Austin, but you could tell just by looking at McCullough that though he was raised on a ranch, he had never so much as touched a bale of hay or even been near a barn. But with a famous name came lots of friends that will do the dirty work for you, and because of that McCullough was always surrounded by an entourage. It made him feel safe. Lucas very badly wanted to prove that theory wrong.

"Just ignore 'em, man, it ain't worth it," whispered Zay. His best friend hadn't left his side since they had gotten off the bus, if in more of a display of solidarity than anything else. Lucas had no doubt that Zay would show up for him ready to rumble no matter what. However he also knew that Zay wasn't exactly what one might call "aggressive". He could often be heard telling any cheerleader in earshot that he was a "lover not a fighter", especially when one of those cheerleaders happened to be named Vanessa.

"You know, Babineaux, if you weren't so busy chasing cheerleaders I could swear you'd turned into one yourself," teased another voice from right behind them.

"Shut up, Dylan," replied Zay frowning. "I just don't want to see Lucas get himself suspended again because those idiots can't think of any new material to throw at him. Seriously, how long have they been on this Judy the Sheep thing? Just get over it." Zay winced as soon as the words left his mouth. "Sorry, Lucas…"

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Lucas replied through gritted teeth.

"If you ask me, I'm just waiting for one of 'em to really start somethin' today," said yet another voice. "It's been awhile since I've had a good tussle, and I can't think of a better reason for it than making sure McCullough and his little gang get what's comin' to 'em." The smacking sound of skin on skin followed this statement and Lucas looked behind him to see Asher grinning up at him, his fist enclosed in his other hand.

"I appreciate the gesture, Asher… all of you," he said, looking at each of them in turn, "but I'm really just trying to get through today," said Lucas. "Zay is right, if I get suspended one more time I'll be spending all summer on the ranch. As much as I love those horses, I love my freedom even more." Zay breathed out a sigh of relief and they continued walking around the metal structure with the rest of their class.

"Well, that about does it for these here facilities, kids. Is there anything in particular you'd like 'em to see before we wrap things up, Mr. Collins?" asked their tour guide as the group came to an abrupt halt. In reality he was the assistant to the manager of these facilities, but he explained earlier that because it was an off week for the competitions he had been asked to show them around for the day. He was of average height, with a big round stomach like that of one of the mall Santas that came through Austin around Christmas time. He was balding and had a handlebar mustache that came down to his double chin. His stained white shirt was tucked into the front of his jeans, showing off his shiny silver ox head belt buckle. The buttons on the front looked they could pop any second.

"I wanna see the horses!" piped up one of the girls that liked to hang around McCullough and his gang. Lucas thought he noticed a glint in her eye when she made this proclamation, but shook it off as mere paranoia.

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem. Is that alright with you, Mr. Collins?" he asked.

"Well… we are running short on time…" Mr. Collins answered. He looked over at Lucas as he said this, trying to get a read on how comfortable the boy was with staying a little longer. Mr. Collins was tall and lean. He wore blue jeans, a dark blue collared button-up, and he never went anywhere without his signature black cowboy hat. Lucas had heard whispers that Mr. Collins used to be a bull-rider himself once, but he was thrown one too many times at the rodeo and had to hang up his hat for a career in education. He was Lucas's favorite teacher. Not only because he felt like they were kindred spirits, but also because he kept a close eye on McCullough. He even helped Lucas with his studies when he'd fallen behind. With so many suspensions under his belt, Lucas occasionally had a hard time keeping up without a proper teacher around. In many ways Mr. Collins was more of a father to him than his own, though he'd never say as much to him of course.

Lucas gave Mr. Collins a slight nod to let him know it was okay with him, and then turned his head in the direction of the bullpen, letting him know he'd be over there. Mr. Collins pursed his lips. He obviously didn't like the idea of letting one of his students, let alone a student he cared very much about, out of his sight. After a few seconds of deliberation he turned to the assistant-turned-tour guide and nodded, throwing his arm out as if to say "lead the way". He soon disappeared into the horse barn with the rest of the group.

Lucas took a hard left and began walking back towards the metal enclosure with Zay, Dylan, and Asher trailing behind him.

Once they had reached the fence, Lucas looked around for the bullpen. Spotting it he headed in its direction. There were five or six bulls all in their own pens, either eating feed or taking a nap. Lucas looked around quickly and found the one he had been looking for. It was a larger pen than the rest, with a big wooden sign over it that read "Tombstone" in carved letters. Inside the pen was the largest bull he had ever seen. It was jet black and fierce. Its muscles rippled all through its body with every move it made. However, what was really horrifying about this bull was its eyes. Tombstone's eyes were a bright hellish red that consumed you until all that was left was your fear.

Lucas and the others stood staring at the monstrosity for what felt like an eternity before hearing a voice shout from behind them, "Hey, Friar! Planning an early funeral? You can't even handle a sheep, let alone that beast. You'd be dead in an instant!" Another echoing chorus of laughs followed the insult.

Lucas turned around and faced his rival. It seemed like most of McCullough's gang had gone to the horse barn, but he'd kept a couple cronies around as usual. As was always the case, McCullough didn't go anywhere without at least a couple bodyguards. Lucas vaguely wondered if he thought the same of him as Dylan stiffened next to him and Asher cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"What do you want, McCullough?" Lucas asked him. He tried to sound bored, but there was a sharp edge to his tone nonetheless.

"Me? Oh, I just fancied a gander at the bulls, same as you. They're really much more boring than I thought they'd be. Don't you think so, boys?" McCullough asked. A murmur of dumb assent came from the boys surrounding him.

Lucas could've sworn he'd heard Tombstone bristle at McCullough's statement, but shook it off as his imagination. "These animals deserve your respect, McCullough. They aren't play things. They're living beings," Lucas stated firmly.

McCullough laughed again. "They're living beings," McCullough mocked in a high voice that wasn't anywhere near the pitch of Lucas's own. Lucas tensed but said nothing. "You're pathetic, Friar. You can't even master a sheep and suddenly you have respect for these beasts?" he spat. This time Lucas definitely heard a grunt coming from Tombstone.

"Why don't you just get out of here and leave Lucas alone?" pleaded Zay. "We haven't done anything to you."

McCullough laughed even harder at this. "Aww, your cheerleader wants us to go, Friar. What do you think, boys? Should we go?" he asked his entourage. The bodyguards shook their heads and flexed their muscles. "That's what I thought. It's judgment day, Friar. Time to get what's comin' to ya."

Asher rushed forward blindly, managing to get a good punch in on one of the unnamed cronies before he was grabbed by two of the others and pinned against the fence. Dylan rushed forward to help him, but the boy Asher dazed had come back to his senses and tackled him to the ground. Lucas planted his feet, ready to take on McCullough, but was surprised when he witnessed him grab Zay instead, forcing him up against the pen holding Tombstone. The bull went nuts, roaring and slamming against the bars of its cage demanding to be free. A pair of burning red eyes flared in Lucas's vision and a deep dread washed over him.

"Hey man, how about we talk about this?" Zay choked through the stranglehold. "We're both reasonable guys, right?" he pleaded, a half-grin plastered on his face.

"Shut up, Babineaux!" spat McCullough. He leaned in and sneered up at him. "This isn't about you. So just be quiet and let the big kids talk, alright?"

"Oh, you're a 'big kid'" said Zay nodding fervently. "That makes all the difference, man…" he chuckled softly. Zay was clearly far from amused though as he turned his head desperately towards his best friend and shouted, "LUCAS!"

Lucas raised his hands up slowly. "Woah, woah, woah. McCullough, I understand you and I have our beef. Our whole family does. But Zay hasn't done anything. Let him go," Lucas said calmly. Tombstone was beating himself against the side of the pen now and the metal supports groaned from the stress. Lucas eyed them wearily, knowing that if they gave in then they all had a lot more to worry about than some family grudge.

McCullough roared with laughter. "Are you insane?! I have the advantage, Friar. I'm not passing this up for the world. How about you and I find out what happens when Babineaux here learns what it really means to be a Texan?" His grip tightened on Zay's collar and Lucas saw red.

The next thing he knew Lucas was leaning over Zay checking him for injuries. His friend was looking up at him with a mixture of shock and… something else. It was an emotion he'd never seen Zay show towards him before.

It was fear.

McCullough was admitted to the hospital and was in and out of ICU for weeks. The doctors assured his parents that his injuries were not uncommon with bull attacks, but it was a true miracle that he had survived. They also said that he had to come back frequently given how much damage a rampaging animal in a pen can do, let alone to someone so young and fragile. Somehow Lucas had freed Zay and lifted McCullough straight into the pen with Tombstone. The scariest part was that he didn't even remember doing any of it.

After the incident at the arena Mr. Collins stopped offering to help Lucas with his schoolwork. He no longer chastised the other kids for teasing him either, not that it really mattered anymore since they were all too scared of him to do so. The news of his expulsion soon came through the principal from the school board. He was deemed a danger to everyone around him and had to go.

The next thing Lucas knew he was on a plane headed to New York. To his father's great displeasure, he had been transferred to a military base upstate. His mama found a job cooking for a restaurant that catered specifically to Southern barbecue enthusiasts, and she even started helping out at a local daycare in between shifts. Soon she was making enough money that when Pappy Joe called them up saying he needed help at the ranch, his father had jumped at the chance and took a leave of absence from work to fly down and help him out. Lucas begged his father to let him come with him as an extra hand, but he quickly refused. He insisted that Lucas could make roots in New York and get a proper schooling like the law demanded. On his way out the door his father clapped him on the shoulder and told him that he was proud of him. The only thing that Lucas felt, staring back into his father's eyes that were so much like his own, was the same feeling he had every time he looked at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. It was a deep loathing and disgust that ran down through his very bones.

Now he was lying in a hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling that same self-hatred creep through his veins and wondering where it had all gone wrong. Was it when he fell off Judy the Sheep? Was it the years of getting into fights at school? Was it because he struggled to connect with his abusive father? Was it McCullough? He could never really be sure. The only thing he did know was that everything that had ever happened to him had landed him here. It was karma. And the thing that made all of this worse was the fact that the one person he now knew in his heart he always wanted next to him when shit went south wasn't even speaking to him.

Maya Hart was the one person in his life who accepted him for who he was… warts and all. Even Zay was afraid of him when push came to shove; but not Maya. Even when Lucas had stood up to Billy, or threatened Joey when he had Zay against the lockers, or bulldozed his way into Riley's room when she was being bullied; Maya was never scared of Lucas. She never even questioned who he was. To her he was still just a Ranger Rick. No matter what he had done at his old school, to her he would always be just a Huckleberry. He thought of the look she'd given him back in the tent and he loathed himself for being the cause of it. He'd sworn he would never do anything to lose her, and now she wouldn't even come to see if he was alive. This was all his fault. If he wasn't in this damn bed he'd go and do something about it, but he couldn't and that hurt. It hurt more than a hundred rounds against Tombstone the bull.

And as Lucas started connecting the many dots in the ceiling like stars, creating constellations in his mind, he thought of where Maya was and what she was doing. He contemplated over what kind of constellations she would trace and tell him stories about. He wondered if she thought of him or if she even cared. He wondered if he had lost her forever.