All right. I managed to do it. Busy, busy weekend here guys. Like, intensely busy. Bahaha.

Vaughn's past is explained! Go forth and read. xD

CHAPTER STATS

Word Count (excluding A/N): 1519

Date Updated: 1-23-11

Current Review Count: 169

"Wh… what?" Chelsea furrowed her brow, turning her whole body to face the irritated cowboy. Had she heard him right? His family was… dead?

Vaughn fell silent for several moments, mentally slapping himself, cursing silently. He hadn't meant to say that. He was never going to tell anyone again. Not after what had happened last time.

"Vaughn…?" Chelsea asked quietly, reminding Vaughn that he had gotten himself into a very unfortunate situation. He could feel her eyes boring into him, trying so hard to read him. It had been a while since someone had tried that. They'd all given up on him.

Then it clicked. It really clicked. Finally, it came together in his head. An epiphany. A weird realization that made him feel relieved and conflicted. Mostly conflicted.

She hadn't given up on him. She was still trying. She cared.

Maybe he could tell her…

"They're dead," he repeated, bringing his stone gaze up to the ceiling. Chelsea swallowed from beside him, still watching. She remained silent, but he knew that she was listening intently. She leaned forward, her eyebrows knit together in concern.

"What… happened?" She asked, a hint of sadness mixed with the curiosity in her voice. She suddenly leaned back, sucking in a breath. "Oh! I'm sorry—you don't need to—!"

"I was eight," he cut her off, almost smirking at her. She was such a kid. "My dad wasn't the greatest guy."

"Is that an understatement?" Chelsea asked, sensing where he could be going with this.

"You could say that," he nodded once, not taking his glare off the ceiling. "My Ma used to tell me he was real great before I was born, and even when I was a little kid. But then he got bad."

He paused to glance down at the farmer, making sure she wasn't… well, to make sure she seemed like she cared. Her blue eyes were wider than usual, enlarged by curiosity. The crease on her forehead told him that she was worried. She cared what he was saying.

"He started drinkin'. I figure he must've missed his old way of livin'. He was a theif." He explained, earning a confused look from Chelsea.

"A theif?" She repeated. "Why would your mom…"

"Beats me," Vaughn shook his head slowly, remembering his mother's face. She was so independent and strong-willed, with purple eyes like his. "She just liked the bad kind, I reckon."

"Hm…" Chelsea pursed her lips, thinking. Vaughn continued, his voice growing quieter. Chelsea had to lean in closer to hear him over the storm pounding on her walls.

"He would come home real late, stone-drunk. Now when I think 'bout it, I'm surprised he was able to get around," Vaughn paused, recollecting his thoughts. He didn't want to say more than he had to. "He'd hit Ma pretty hard, but she did a pretty good job of keepin' me away from him. Not all the time, though."

"So… he hit you?" Chelsea's voice surprised him. It was abnormally quiet, and rather sad. He shrugged, not wanting to look at her. He could already feel her gaping at him. He realized that she was probably going to cry. He sighed, but continued.

"Ma was too stubborn to call anyone for help. I guess she'd been told he was no good or somethin' and she didn't want her pride to suffer by goin' and tellin' all them she was wrong. Then one night he came home, all sideways. I knew what was comin' and hid, but Ma didn't. He must've hit her too hard or in the wrong spot or somethin', 'cuz he managed to knock 'er out so she wouldn't get up again.

"He figured out what he did and I saw him stumble out, trippin' and cursin' the whole way. I didn't see him again. The cops told me that they'd both gone away for a long time. But I knew as soon as she fell down that she wasn't gonna get up 'gain.

"They pushed me 'round after that. None of my relatives wanted to take me in, so I went to foster homes, mostly. As you might've guessed, I didn't make a whole lot of friends. As soon as I could, I got my job with the company. And here we are."

Vaughn finished, his throat feeling uncomfortable from talking so much. He cleared it, frowning. Chelsea was still quiet. He grimaced to himself—she was probably crying. And he was stuck here, too—no way to get away from it. After several tense moments, he glanced her way. She was watching him sadly, but her eyes were dry. She gave him a small smile—a smile meant to reassure. His heart fluttered.

"What was she like?" She asked, leaning her shoulder against the wall, still watching him with tender blue eyes. He felt like he'd seen that look before, but in violet eyes instead of blue.

"She was… nice," he said, shrugging. Chelsea shook her head, rolling her eyes lightly.

"What did she look like?"

"Brown hair. Purple eyes. She smiled a lot." Vaughn said, pulling his mother's image up in his mind. It was a little fuzzy.

"What was she like, besides being nice?" Chelsea asked, squinting slightly as she tried to imagine the woman who'd raised Vaughn. Vaughn sighed.

"I dunno. She liked to laugh. And she was real headstrong. She never gave up on anythin'. She also kept to herself most of the time. She liked animals and plants a lot. She was a farmer, too."

"Really?" Chelsea's eyes lit up. Vaughn chuckled before he could stop himself. Chelsea smiled. "Where did she farm?"

"Forget-Me-Not," Vaughn replied. Chelsea's eyes widened slightly.

"Forget-Me-Not Valley?" She asked, her jaw slack. "But… that's right next to Mineral Town! I've been to Forget-Me-Not tons of times, and the only farm is Marlin and Celia's…"

"Not the only farm," Vaughn said, leaning his head back against the wall, eyes closed. Chelsea blinked in realization.

"You mean the old farm was your mom's?"

Vaughn nodded.

"And that's where you grew up?"

He nodded once again.

"…How old are you?"

Vaughn raised his eyebrow at her, opening his eyes. "Twenty-five. Why?"

Chelsea blushed. "I just wanted to see if I'd ever met you before."

"I doubt it," he said, leaning back again. "You're what? Eighteen? I left the Valley right after they died. You were probably too young."

"I'm nineteen," Chelsea corrected, sighing, "and you're right. I was like two when this happened, and my mom didn't start selling produce to the Valley until I was six."

"Was your mom a farmer, too?" Vaughn asked, curiosity getting the better of him. If he spilled his guts to her, the least she could do was tell him a little about her past.

"She still is," Chelsea smiled proudly. "And my dad's the only blacksmith in Mineral Town, since my grandpa retired."

A thought occurred to Vaughn and he tried to suppress a twitch. "Is your mom blonde?"

"Yeah," Chelsea nodded, looking at Vaughn warily. "And she's got blue eyes. She's sort of short, like me. Why?"

Vaughn blinked. So it was her mom he'd run in to at the Valley before. "No reason."

"If you say so…" she trailed off, raising an eyebrow skeptically. A silence fell over the two. It wasn't awkward at all, and not quite tense, but it also wasn't totally comfortable. Chelsea was still digesting everything that Vaughn had told her. His parents were both dead. He had a drunk, abusive father. He was pushed around foster homes until he was old enough to work, and then he got a job and shut everyone out…

"Vaughn," Chelsea said, breaking the silence. He looked down at her, a bit anxious. He still was out of his element after having shared so much about himself. She looked up at him, her eyes earnest. "Why didn't you tell any of us before? Mirabelle, Julia, me… We all just wanted to help."

Vaughn scowled lightly. "Last time I told someone, it didn't end well."

"What happened?" Chelsea asked. She cringed at herself—maybe he didn't want to share that. But he did seem to be in a more talkative mood today.

"I was just starting my job," Vaughn sighed. He might as well tell her. "Someone asked. I told 'im. Next thing I know, I'm the talk of the company. No one wanted anythin' t'do with me. Said somethin' 'bout violence bein' a family trait…"

"That's stupid," Chelsea frowned. Vaughn raised his eyebrows at her. She scowled, meeting his gaze. "No one should judge you for your past. You're not your dad."

Vaughn could have smiled at her. She was so confident as she said that. He wondered if she knew that was exactly what he'd always needed to hear.

"Thanks," Vaughn mumbled, reaching up for his hat and grabbing at the empty air. Chelsea laughed at his expression. Vaughn sighed, embarrassed. He glanced over at her and felt his face heat up slightly. Her laugh was a sound he might be able to get used to.

D'aww. This is a turning point, guys. The Winter of Angst is ending soon, even though we're not quite through with the season... I wish were were, though. I want to write about Spring. The weather over here is like spring all of a sudden.

Stay tuned for the next installment. The snowstorm isn't over yet... and I wanted to apologize to people who were expecting something more physical to happen this chapter (that sounds so awkward xP). It didn't fit. At all. Have patience, please - you will be greatly rewarded. I swear.

IMPORTANT: From this Friday, 1/28 until Sunday, 1/30 I'll be on a math/science club field trip to Catalina Island, where there is no internet. Or computers. So that means I can't update next weekend. There's a 15% chance I'll be able to update before then. Odds are, it'll have to be the week (or weekend) after. If it is the weekend after, I'll see if I can do a double-update. I'm sorry!

Thanks for all the reviews, you guys. I love all of you. Seriously. I do.