Ahahaha. Haaa. Hey guys.

Explanation in the bottom A/N. Or just go click on the link at the top of my profile. I made a vlog-thing to explain myself since I can't type it all here.

CHAPTER STATS

Word Count (excluding A/N): 1786

Date Updated: 12-30-12

Current Review Count: 681

Vaughn watched Chelsea from across the table. She was staring blankly into her glass of milk. He hated seeing her eyes so lifeless.

"Vaughn, do you know when the boats will start up again?" Riley asked, cutting through the thick silence. He didn't even seem to realize it was there.

"Naw," Vaughn shrugged. "Usually it's a day after th'storm ends. But you don't need me t'tell ya that."

Riley nodded and glanced worriedly between Vaughn and Chelsea. He knew that they had been in a tiff back when Vaughn had left, but he didn't know all the details. And then for Chelsea to just show up here out of the blue—running away because of "some bad shit"—without any explanation… it wasn't good, Riley knew that much for sure. And neither of them seemed incredibly talkative at that particular moment, even though he knew that they had to talk out whatever was going on.

"Vaughn, can I talk to you for a second?" Riley said, giving Vaughn a look.

Instead of protesting, the cowboy obliged and stood up. The two of them went out into the hallway. Riley noticed that Chelsea remained in her spot, unmoved.

"What?" Vaughn asked, frowning irritably.

"What's going on?" Riley asked. "I need some information here if I'm going to help at all."

"Y'don't need to help," Vaughn scowled. "What on earth makes y'think I need your help?"

"I don't know," Riley rolled his eyes. "Maybe the fact that you two don't seem to be entirely buddy-buddy at the moment and she looks like she's about to have a nervous breakdown?"

Vaughn was about to make some scathing remark like he usually would, but the image of Chelsea's empty eyes seemed to fill his head at that moment. She did look like she was struggling to keep it together, and as much as he wanted to help, he had to admit to himself that he just wasn't tactful enough. He'd probably end up accidentally making it worse.

"Damn it," Vaughn muttered. He rubbed his hand over his face, sighing in defeat. "Fine. Go help—whatever th'hell that means."

Riley smiled at him. "Awesome. Just go buy something for lunch or dinner."

"Yeah, yeah," Vaughn rolled his eyes as he opened the door to his apartment to get his coat. "I'll be back."

Riley watch him leave, then brought his gaze back over to the girl frozen at the table. He observed her hunched over posture, her dead eyes, and her disheveled appearance.

She looked like she'd been through hell.

He hated to think it, but she almost reminded him of Vaughn when they'd first met.

Riley shook his head slightly. This girl would get out of this—whatever "this" was.

"So, Chelsea," Riley said cheerfully, sitting back down at the table.

She looked up at him, almost startled. Her face was dirty and tired, but the swelling on her cheek had gone down some.

"How are you?" He asked her, his tone becoming more earnest.

Chelsea blinked. How was she? How could she answer that question? She felt numb, and she wasn't sure if that was an improvement from earlier or not. She settled on the easy answer. "I'm fine."

Riley nodded. "What about you and Mr. Insensitive Jerk?"

"Who?" Chelsea frowned. "Do you mean Vaughn?"

Riley laughed. "I heard you two had a bit of a misunderstanding, and knowing Vaughn, it was probably his fault."

"Vaughn's not an insensitive jerk—usually," Chelsea smiled slightly. "It was all so silly, looking back."

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?" Riley asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"He made me cookies for Spring Thanksgiving," Chelsea sighed.

"And you didn't like them," Riley said, a panic he had never seen coming settling into his gut. He'd been wrong and sent Vaughn in to get rejected. No wonder Vaughn had been pissed at him for the last week.

"No, no," Chelsea said quickly, her face turning a delicate pink. "It's not that—I just—I don't know, I thought—"

"You did like them?" Riley blurted out before he could stop himself. Goddess, he was supposed to be helping her feel better, not interrogating her!

"Of course I did," she said, staring at the floor guiltily. "It was just so—so unexpected, especially coming from someone like Vaughn—I wasn't sure if he was being serious, and…"

"And he freaked out at you," Riley said, nodding. Vaughn could be so dense sometimes. He probably still had no idea Chelsea liked the cookies.

"He left the island before I could explain, and I felt horrible," Chelsea said, taking a deep breath. "And then all that stuff happened, and I—"

She stopped abruptly, and it occurred to Riley that she might actually still be on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"Hey, it's okay," Riley said, offering her an encouraging smile. "You're fine."

Chelsea took a moment to compose herself. She would not degenerate into a mess of tears again. She would stay strong. She hated being so pathetic all the time, running away from her problems.

"Do you want to talk about it at all?" Riley offered. "I know Vaughn isn't the most talkative guy out there, so I—"

"Riley, you're too sweet," Chelsea laughed. "And even if Vaughn isn't good at talking, he makes up for it in his listening skills—and, besides, he knows exactly what to say when he has to."

Riley raised his eyebrows—that was a side of Vaughn he wasn't well acquainted with.

"But I think I'm good," Chelsea said, straightening up. "There'll be other seasons with more crops, and I can visit my parents later, and Julia will come back, and Vaughn and I are fine now, and I can always get another—another cow."

Riley gave her a sympathetic smile as she wiped away a few tears. So that's what happened—and then she got stuck here and had to go through Goddess knows what top off the whole thing. But she really, genuinely seemed like she was going to bounce back. She was strong.

Riley smiled to himself. Vaughn lucked out with this one.

Ooo

Vaughn sighed as he stood in the lobby of his apartment building. He hadn't left. There was nowhere to go out in this storm, and besides—he really didn't want to leave Chelsea.

But Riley was right. She needed to talk and he would only screw it up. He seemed to have a track record of making things worse.

He took in a deep breath and leaned against the cold wall. What was he supposed to do? He knew what he wanted to happen. He wanted Chelsea to be back to her normal, obnoxiously-happy self. But he couldn't think of a thing that he could do to fix this.

He closed his eyes. Why did all that shit happen to her? And right when they were actually on bad terms, too. The timing was horrible, and his conscious was chipping away at his sanity.

Being in love was exhausting.

Ooo

Vaughn pushed the door to his apartment open. He figured lingering in the lobby for half an hour was enough. He was starting to feel a little creepy.

"Oh, Vaughn," Chelsea said, pulling herself off the floor and walking over to him. "Where'd you go?"

The guilt in Vaughn's stomach intensified. As their eyes met, he didn't see that horrible emptiness anymore—thank Goddess—but instead, concern. She was worried about him.

"Yeah, Vaughn," Riley piped up from the kitchen area. "Where'd you run off to?"

"I went out," Vaughn sighed, forcing himself to look away from Chelsea's face.

She frowned. "Are you alright?"

He couldn't believe it.

"Am I alright?" Vaughn repeated, his mouth twitching in a scowl. "Who the hell cares? Chelsea—are you alright?"

"Wha—Vaughn," Chelsea's frown deepened, her eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean, 'who cares'?"

And she completely missed his point.

He really was the master of miscommunication.

"Vaughn, come on," she continued, and he wanted to kick himself when he noticed how she was starting to look upset again. "You know that I—"

"Nevermind," Vaughn muttered. "I meant—don't be worryin' 'bout me."

"But," Chelsea blinked, "I can't help it."

"Well, stop," Vaughn sighed. She didn't get it.

"No," Chelsea shook her head, starting to get visibly irritated.

"Why not?" Vaughn scowled. She was just being stubborn now.

Chelsea glared up at him. "Because I—"

The phone started ringing and Chelsea immediately shut her mouth, turning red.

Vaughn raised his eyebrows at her. She looked like she was about to say something she'd regret. He knew the feeling.

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

If she was going to say anything similar to what he was going to say just a few hours ago—

"Vaughn, man, are you gonna get that?" Riley asked from the kitchen, watching the scene unfold with amusement in his eyes.

Vaughn glared at him and picked up the phone. "What?"

"Vaughn! I'm so glad I got a hold of you—"

"Julia?" Vaughn frowned. She sounded pretty freaked out.

"Vaughn, Chelsea's gone! Felicia called us and—"

"I know," Vaughn sighed.

"She said they went to the farm after the storm and she wasn't there, and they found Daisy—"

"Julia, I know," he repeated, this time more loudly to be heard over her frantic squawking.

"And they—wait, what? Did you just say you know?"

"Yeah," he exhaled. He didn't really want to have to deal with her, but there was no way around it. "She's here."

"Here? Where's here?"

"My apartment," Vaughn said, his patience running low. "The place where my phone is. That y'called."

The other line was silent.

"Julia?"

"Why? How? What—Vaughn! What is going on? Let me talk to her!"

Vaughn took the phone away from his ear and held it out to Chelsea, who quickly took it from him. He noticed that her face was still red.

"Julia?" She said into the phone.

Vaughn decided not to linger around awkwardly. He walked into the kitchen area where Riley was.

"That was interesting," Riley snickered quietly at Vaughn.

"What?" Vaughn frowned.

"Nothing," Riley shrugged, smirking.

Vaughn felt his eye twitch. Damn Riley.

Chelsea hung up the phone a moment later and walked back over to the men.

"So?" Riley said, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Chelsea smiled, albeit a little unsurely. "Julia and Mirabelle are leaving the city tomorrow, and they offered to take me with them."

"To the island?" Vaughn asked.

"Of course," Chelsea said, raising her eyebrow at him. Then, she smiled at him—genuinely. "I have to finish what I started, don't I?"

Blarghghslhf. I hate this chapter. Didn't turn out well.

Anywho, two main orders of business here. First, I have a new poll in my profile. Please vote, since it'll affect the outcome of the story! Second, and more importantly, please please PLEASE check out the link to the youtube video at the top of my profile. It's a video of me explaining myself and I'd love it if you watched it for me. It contains all of my grovelling for forgiveness and that good stuff.

P.S. Thanks for the obscene amounts of reviews over the hiatus guys. I love you all. See you next update (which you can totes here about in my video). (: