This guy is really little. Trust me, I tried to make it longer, but this was the best I could do. Sorry it took so long, too. Remember that guy I mentioned in my last author's note? Yeah, well, I got to see him a couple days ago, which also meant that I got to say goodbye to him for good. Woooo. And before that I was going through a really tough time, so it was hard to get myself to write. But I did it!

Here's to more frequent updates and maybe a little bit more happy things in life!

P.S. Over 100k words! You guys have read a looooot of fanfic to get here, haha.

CHAPTER STATS

Word Count (excluding A/N): 1107

Date Updated: 7-6-13

Current Review Count: 786

Julia hurried down the path into the darkened town. Chelsea wasn't at her house or anywhere else on her farm. She hadn't come into the shop at all that day, either. She had disappeared and Julia wasn't having it.

"Chelsea!" Julia called as she emerged onto the beach. There was no reply, but the blonde saw a dark figure slumped over on the sand near the waves. She sighed, recognizing the frail outline.

Chelsea didn't move as her friend sat down next to her on the sand.

"Chels, it's really late," Julia said, gently putting her hand on the farmer's bony arm. "You have to go home now."

"He's not here," Chelsea hiccupped, her face still facing the ground. It was covered by a veil of stringy chestnut hair. "Vaughn's gone."

Julia shook her head, put her arm around Chelsea. "You don't know that, Chels. He'll be here tomorrow."

"They still haven't found those two people missing from the shipwreck," Chelsea said quietly, her voice hoarse. She finally looked up at Julia. "He's not going to be here tomorrow, Julia."

Julia blinked. The intensity in Chelsea's gaze struck her—it was so different from the fading cloudiness they'd shown the last week. But this change wasn't necessarily a good one. Chelsea's eyes were so incredibly sad. Flashes of hopelessness, desperation, and regret were all swimming in the blue. She was saying so much more than what she actually said.

Chelsea blinked and two hot tears rolled down her cheeks. He was gone. Vaughn was really not coming back. She couldn't really wrap her mind around it. He'd saved her life so many times—she couldn't even come close to returning the favor. But oh, did she wish that she could have.

Now, she was never going to see him again. She would never see that rare smile of his that she loved so much, or hear his rumbling chuckle that she'd barely heard any of already. She wouldn't get to feel his arms around her ever again, and she'd never see him roll his eyes when she tripped. She'd never hear his irritated drawl. She'd never be able to finally kiss him.

He would never know how she felt.

She looked up into the cloudy, dark night. Why couldn't it have been her? She would trade places with him in a heartbeat. If she'd died in her shipwreck, then there wouldn't have been a farm on the island, and Vaughn would never have been on that boat.

He would still be alive.

She inhaled sharply and felt the tears pour out of her, shaking her tiny frame.

Julia tried to comfort her by rubbing her back, and then just hugging her. She really couldn't think of anything else to say. As much as she hated to think about it, Chelsea was probably right at this point—Vaughn wasn't coming back.

Julia blinked as tears pricked at her eyes. She'd miss that damn cowboy, too.

Ooo

Riley pulled the spare key to Vaughn's apartment out of his pocket and used it to open the door. He walked inside, the air shifting noticeably at the intrusion. Everything still had its familiar layer of dust settling over the top.

He finished surveying the room and heaved a sigh. It was so lonely here recently. Riley moved over to the futon and sat down, noiselessly watching the dust particles move around in the streaming Sunday sunlight of the window.

The phone began to ring. It was the third time this week, which was strange, since Vaughn's phone usually never rang. He didn't feel that it was his place to answer it, so he let it ring until it stopped just like he'd done the last two times.

Only this time, it just kept ringing and ringing.

Riley rolled his eyes and walked over, the shrill noise getting the best of him. He picked the phone off of the receiver and spoke.

"Hello?"

"Riley, damn it. Why didn't you answer sooner?" A familiar drawl growled from the phone.

"I'm sorry man," Riley laughed. "I didn't think you'd want me answering your phone. How's Flowerbud treating you? It's been—what? Two weeks of storms?"

"Two and a half. I'm goin' insane, Riley."

"Well, the phone lines seem to be working again. Does that mean the storms have stopped?"

"Yeah, the ferries start up tonight. I'll be back by tomorrow. Thanks for watching my place for me."

"Don't mention it, man. Your apartment is way better than mine—and that's saying something."

Vaughn snorted into the receiver.

"So, I guess you're not heading back to Forget-Me-Not tomorrow?"

"Hell no," Vaughn said. "That's the last place I want to be. Well, naw. Flowerbud is the last place I want to be."

"And what's the first place?"

"I need to get back to that Island, Riley."

"I thought so."

The sound of a muffled male voice came through the receiver, then Vaughn's voice once again. "I've gotta go, Riley. Thanks again."

"Alright man, take care."

The call ended with a click.

Riley sat back down on the futon. Vaughn better get back to that island soon, or Chelsea would have moved on.

He sat up suddenly, an idea striking him.

Those two needed to get together, and he knew just how to do it.

All he needed were a few more vacation days.

Ooo

Gray walked into the lobby of the Inn at Forget-Me-Not, meeting his wife at the counter.

"Any luck?" She asked him, her eyebrows raised.

"No," Gray sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "That Vaughn guy must be a real coward for him to not show up here two weeks in a row after meeting you."

"Now, Gray," Claire pursed her lips. "Don't jump to conclusions. You know this has been a really active storm season. He could have just been unable to travel."

Gray's eye twitched. "So he's just staying with our daughter, wherever that is?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "There you go, jumping to conclusions again."

"Where else would he be?" Gray asked, crossing his arms.

"Gray, really," Claire frowned. "You're acting ridiculous. We don't know enough to even begin to speculate. Besides, Chelsea likes him, so he's probably a wonderful young man."

"I don't trust him," Gray grumbled, pulling his hat down.

Claire plucked his hat off of his head and put her hands on her hips. "You need to have a better attitude, mister."

"You need to give me my damn hat back, woman."

Claire glared at him and he glared back, but neither of them could keep it up for very long. They were both too tired.

And there you have it. What do you think about this little twist? Review and tell me if you thought Vaughn was actually dead or not! ...What a morbid subject, haha.