This is my first "Dukes of Hazzard" fanfic, but I have loved the show since I was a kid. This is just a little something that popped into my head after binge-watching the first four seasons. The title is an allusion to a song by Iron Maiden. Note: I wasn't sure of the actual age difference between Bo, Daisy, and Luke; I was thinking I would use the actor's actual birthdates, but Tom is actually nine years older than John. So, I'm guessing that there are about three years between Luke & Daisy, and then two years between Daisy & Bo. Also, I'm pretty sure that in at least one episode, Jesse said his late wife's name is Martha (I believe this was in season two or three, when Jesse is talking to another old Ridge-Runner). I have borrowed some lines from the episode, while asserting my own mini-scenes and a lengthy flashback (in italics). If you read, please review!

Fear of the Dark

Whatever the red gas was, it filled the entire car. Luke couldn't see where he was driving, and their lungs were full of the stuff. The General Lee was airborne. He came down heavy, but even blinded the Dukes could still stick the landing. Bo found the smoke container in the backseat, and tossed it out the window. Luke climbed out the window, and gulped in the fresh air.

Then he noticed the man with the gun.

"Luke, I think someone made these windows..."

"Bo."

"...a mite too small." Luke raised his arms in a defeated gesture.

"Get out of the car, Blondie."

Bo manoeuvred out of the passenger window and raised his hands. He glanced at Luke over the roof of the General. It was the guys from the Boar's Nest who had made a move on Daisy and knocked Cooter around. Luke shook his head. He didn't think they should try anything, with two guns trained on them. Besides, Luke had a headache from the smoke, traces of which were still pouring out from the windows of the General.

The man holding a gun on Luke finally spoke, "Okay, plowboys, once some of this smoke clears, we're all gonna go for a little drive. Moody, you and pretty boy take our car. Luke and I will follow behind you in their car." Luke cocked an eyebrow and shot a glance at Bo. These guys knew who they were. Something smelled rotten, and it wasn't that smoke bomb. Bo looked uneasy.

"I don't much like being separated from my cousin."

"Either you get in this here car with me, or Moody will separate Blondie – from his body."

"Luke?" Bo was itching to throw a punch, but Luke didn't want to take the chance. He had a feeling these boys were serious.

"Alright, but you touch one hair on Bo's head, I'll knock ya so hard yer great-grandchildren will be dizzy."

"That really depends on you, cowboy." Luke followed Moody's car in the General Lee, conscious of the gun Turk kept aimed at his side, and of the blonde head visible through the back windshield. They drove a few miles to the old Hazzard Coffin Works at the edge of town. It was a deserted, desolate place. The next big storm would probably bring the whole building down. The crooks herded the boys in, and set to work tying their wrists and ankles. Despite their predicament, Luke and Bo were feeling pretty relaxed. Sitting next to each other on the floor, they somehow felt that everything was going to be alright. They just needed to bide some time and figure out a way to escape. Luke could tell Bo was fine, because his sarcasm was intact.

Turk went outside to make a call. A sure sign that they'd been targeted, and not just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Luke couldn't begin to conceive what could possibly be going on. When the man returned, Luke tried fishing for a little information, but he didn't catch none. "Put 'em in dead storage," Turk commanded, when Moody asked what they should do with the Duke boys. "Get it? Coffin Works, dead storage?" Them old crooks had a laugh about that. Luke glanced at Bo, as the younger man faked a laugh. He wondered if his cousin understood what they meant by that, since he didn't seem too ruffled about it.

Hauling the Duke boys up by their arms, the crooks led them over to two wooden coffins, leaned up against the wall. "You're not really gonna put us in there, are ya?" Bo asked. He was trying to sound annoyed, but Luke could hear the note of alarm in his voice.

Instead of answering, Moody smiled and shoved the blonde into one. It wasn't quite tall enough, and Bo was squished inside, his neck bent uncomfortably. In the same unceremonious manner, Turk shoved Luke into the other casket. His heart dropped as he heard them nailing the lids down; he was worried about Bo. The two crooks laughed and said something Luke couldn't make out. Once he was sure they had left, he asked, "Bo, are you alright?"

"L-luke. I-I can't b-b-breathe."

"Bo –"

"There's n-no a-air in h-he-re. I-I'm g-gonna s-suff-o-cate. T-too d-d-ark." Bo was breathing fast, coughing out fragments of words, with each sharp intake of breath. Luke could tell he was close to hyperventilating. He would need to calm him down, before he passed out. Or they would be in real trouble.

It was a little known fact that Beauregard Duke was deathly afraid of small, dark spaces. It wasn't that he minded the dark itself, cause he didn't. Since he and Luke had shared a room in childhood, he had never feared the dark. What terrified him was claustrophobic spaces that made him feel trapped, especially when he couldn't see anything around him. He didn't even like going into the chicken coop unless it was daylight, or the moon was shining brightly through the chinks in the walls. And he absolutely refused to crawl under the porch, no matter if something needed to be done under there.

These kinda spaces made him think of being buried alive, of dying. This was the closest to hell he ever wanted to get.

Bo didn't always have that phobia. He knew the exact day when he had learned to fear those things. I suppose the traumas of childhood really do cling to a person.

Bo Duke was a curly haired, fair specimen of boyhood. Impulsive and hotheaded, even at the tender age of nine-and-a-half, Bo had already gotten into a number of schoolyard scrapes that year. Sometimes he just couldn't help himself, especially when the Duke honour was at stake. Though he would never, ever have sassed a teacher, Bo had been known to get his share of after-school detentions. Once for jumping his bicycle over the see-saw at recess, while Enos and Mary Lou were on it; once for asking Mabel to marry him, and then making her cry when he asked Sarah Jane half-an-hour later; one for releasing the class's pet gerbil; and quite a few times for playing hookey with his teenage cousin. On that particular day, however, he had gotten in trouble for slugging Hughie Hogg. The boy had attempted to cheat him out of his lunch money, which Bo would have easily walked away from, if Hughie hadn't referred to him as a "no good, no account Duke," and made a particularly nasty comment about the rest of the Duke family.

Who could blame Bo then for throwing the first punch?

Other kids had circled around the two, cheering on Bo. The boy was determined to teach the Hogg some manners. The fight didn't last long; Daisy arrived shortly after, her pretty hair in two long braids on either side of her head, the third-grade teacher right behind her. As Daisy pulled Bo off Hughie, Mrs. Lowe lifted the other boy from the ground, and taking both their ears in hand, she marched them to the principal's office.

Bo was lucky to have gotten off with nothing more than a slap on the wrist and a few days detention. There was no love lost between the principal and the Hoggs, but he had to punish Bo all the same. The boy didn't care what any of them thought. He was more concerned about Uncle Jesse's reaction. He knew he would be disappointed, and he didn't think he would be able to take the look on Jesse's face when he got home.

Daisy offered to wait for him, but Bo said he was old enough to bike home by himself. She was reluctant to let him do so, but she could tell how determined and upset he was. So she left him there to serve his time, but secretly checked the condition of his bicycle before she went home.

Sitting alone in detention, Bo had plenty of time to think about what he had done. He had no regrets about hitting Hughie. He would do the same thing all over again; and he figured that in his life he would slug Hughie quite a few more times. He kept thinking about what Jesse would do to him. The more he mulled over the idea, the less he wanted to go home.

When he was finally released, Bo had decided that he wouldn't go straight home, like Daisy and Mrs. Lowe had told him to. Instead, he would hide somewhere, and stay out until it got dark. By then, Uncle Jesse and Aunt Martha would be so worried about him they wouldn't even get mad about the fight.

Thus decided, he jumped on his bike. He figured the best place to hide out would be Randall Davenport's – Cooter's granddaddy's – old scrap yard, which was really just the man's own backyard, piled high with junk he had accumulated over the years. He had some old clunkers there that Bo liked to play around in. Aunt Martha had told him never to go there alone, but he figured it would be alright as long as he was real careful.

As he turned into the Davenport yard, he finally noticed Hughie and Cletus, who had been tailing him since the Shaw homestead, where they had been stealing apples. "What do ya'll want?" the blond boy demanded.

"We's got a score to settle, Duke boy," Hughie said. "This time there's no teachers around to stop us."

"I'm already in enough trouble cause of yer big mouth, Hughie. Just get outta here."

"Does Uncle Jesse know yer here?" Cletus asked, rubbing his nose. He didn't really like hanging out with Hughie, and would have taken Bo's side in the fight, but he and Hughie was kin. His Mama, who was a Hogg by marriage but a proud Kennedy by birth, disapproved, but Cousin Boss wanted them to play together. He'd told him that he could learn a thing or two from his more conniving cousin. And what with Cousin Boss being the Commissioner and all, Cletus thought it a good idea to listen to him.

"Aw, hush up, Cletus!" Bo retorted.

"I''ll take that as a no," the chubbier boy whispered under his breath.

"What's the matter, Duke? Ya chicken? Bawk. Bawk." Hughie imitated a chicken, sticking his hands under his armpits, and flapping his arms like wings. If Bo's pride hadn't been insulted, he would have informed the Hogg just how stupid he looked.

"I ain't no chicken."

"Ya sure are. You and the rest of yer family, especially that cousin of yours. Mabel overheard Billy Jo tell Dick, who told Katie, who told Dallas, who told me, that Luke wouldn't fight Sonny because he's a coward."

"You take that back, Hughie Hogg!"

"Make me!"

"Alright, I will!" Hughie may have been sneakier than the serpent, and squawked more than a parrot, but behind all that show, he was a natural-born coward. Though the Duke boy was younger and smaller than him, he knew how hard Bo could hit. So when the blonde lunged for him, he ducked behind the nearest car, and what was supposed to be a cock-fight turned into a cat-and-mouse chase. Bo took off after Hughie.

"Hey, fellas!" Cletus hollered. "Fellas!" He ran after them.

Bo was gaining on Hughie, so the Hogg pushed over a stack of tires in Bo's path, slowing him down. This gave Hughie a momentary advantage, which he used to hide. "Hughie, you jackass," (Aunt Martha would wash his mouth with soap if he heard him using such language) Bo panted, glancing around, "where are you?"

"Right here!" Hughie jumped out from behind a car, startling Bo. Bo didn't recover fast enough from his surprise, and Hughie was able to push him into the trunk of a nearby car. He slammed the lid shut with a triumphant holler, and proceeded to shake and beat on the vehicle Bo was in.

"That was a," gasp, "dirty trick," gasp, "Hughie!" Cletus admonished when he had caught up, struggling to catch his breath.

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Let me out, Hughie!" Bo yelled, banging on the lid. "When I get outta here, I'm gonna whup ya!"

Hughie chuckled. "Don't make promises ya can't keep. I think ya need some time to cool down."

"Aw, c'mon Hughie. Let Bo out."

"And let him pummel me? I mean, he needs some time to settle down. This'll teach him a lesson. Ya don't mess with a Hogg." Truth was, Hughie didn't know how to get Bo out. He had acted prematurely, without thinking about how he would extricate Bo once he got him in there. He didn't have a key or nothing. But he wasn't about to let Cletus know that. He wanted to pretend he was in control of the situation. "We're gonna be late for supper. Let's go."

"Hughie..."

"Cletus, I said, let's go. Bo's fine. It's not my problem anymore." Hughie huffed and walked off, content that he had won. Cletus glanced at his cousin's retreating form, then at the trunk.

"Bo?" he whispered, just loud enough for the Duke to hear.

"What?" was the snappy reply.

"I'm gonna get help. Please don't be mad at me."

Bo sighed, "I ain't, Cletus. It ain't yer fault. Just get me outta here."

"CLETUS!" Hughie called.

"Comin'! I'll send someone real soon, Bo. Promise." Bo heard the boys cycle away, leaving him alone, in the dark trunk. He pounded feebly against the lid, and gave a half-hearted shout for help. Suddenly he felt powerless and scared, though he didn't want to admit it, and lonelier than he had ever felt in his young life.

It was getting dark, and the folks at the Duke farm were worried about Bo. "Jesse, ya need to go look for him," Martha said. "We've been waiting long enough. He knows better than to stay out this late without callin' and tellin' us where he is."

"I'm sure he's fine, darling," Jesse said, putting a strong hand on his wife's shoulder. "He's only a boy. What kinda trouble could he get into?"

"Jesse Duke, as I live and breathe. I swear Trouble is that boy's middle name. And Heaven knows what sort of mischief you and yer brothers used to get into at that age."

This last reminder disconcerted Jesse, as he remembered his own childhood antics."You're right. Luke, come on, we'll go look for him."

"I'm comin' too, Uncle Jesse!"

"No, Daisy, you stay here with your aunt, in case Bo comes back." The strong, broad man, his dark hair speckled with white, grabbed his red hat from a hook and the truck keys from the counter. Clapping his nephew on the back, and giving him a solemn nod, the two plunged into the cool Georgia winter evening, to look for their little lost sheep.

There was no sign of Bo on the road between the farm and town. When they got into Hazzard, Luke and Jesse decided to split up, and meet in front of the sheriff's station in an hour. As Luke pulled his bicycle from the back of the pick-up, Jesse reminded him what time he was to be back. "I don't want you to go getting lost too."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm gonna go talk to Sheriff Roscoe. If Bo's missing, he'll wanna help. If anyone can help find him, it'd be Roscoe. Now, you be careful, ya hear!"

Luke checked all of Bo's favourite spots, but the boy wasn't in any of them. He was considering going to the old Mr. Davenport's scrap yard, in the back of his homestead, but he figured Bo would know better than to go there alone. Still, he should check. There were a lot of things a boy could hurt himself on. As he was pedalling out there, he heard someone yelling his name. He stopped, and saw Cletus Hogg puffing after him.

"What ya want, Cletus? I'm in a hurry."

"Bo."

"Bo? Have ya seen Bo? Do you know where he is?"

Cletus nodded, and between pants proceeded to tell his story to Luke. He would have told him sooner, but his Ma was real strict about him being home for suppertime, and he had had to sneak out just to come tell him, cause she didn't like him out after dark. He hoped Luke wasn't mad at him, cause he hadn't know what Hughie was gonna do, and he didn't think Hughie had known either.

"That's fine, Cletus. Just show me where Bo is." The two boys biked to the junkyard, and manoeuvred through piles of metal and scrap, as Cletus tried to remember where he had chased their cousins. "C'mon, Cletus. Don't ya know where you're goin'?"

"I'm sorry, Luke. It all looks different in the dark. Wait! I remember this. That's it," he pointed to a black 1963 Buick Riviera with a crushed front end. Luke jumped off and tossed aside his bike, and shouted his cousin's name. He and Cletus listened, but they couldn't hear anything.

Luke knocked on the trunk. "Bo? Bo! Are you in there? Bo!" There was a quiet knock from inside."Cletus, run to Mr. Davenport's and get Uncle Jesse on the CB! Tell him what's goin' on, and then see if he's got something we can use to open this trunk!" Cletus ran faster than Luke had ever seen him run before. In the meantime, Luke kept talking to his cousin, reassuring him that help was coming, and they were going to get him out. Bo wasn't answering, or if he was, it was too quiet for Luke to hear. Luke yanked open the back door, and started tearing apart the backseat, hoping that he could reach the trunk from there. Adrenalin and worry gave him new strength, and Luke was able to tear the seat off. Luckily the only thing separating the trunk from the seat was a panel, which Luke ripped out easily.

"Bo!" he reached his arms in, and pulled out the smaller boy. He was trembling from cold and exhaustion and fear; his face was slick with tears. Luke removed his jacket and draped it around Bo's shoulders. He rubbed the boy's arms, trying to promote circulation. "Bo, are you alright? Bo? Speak to me."

"Luke?" The boy blinked several times and started crying. He threw his arms around Luke's neck and buried his face in his cousin's shoulder. Luke's arms wrapped around the shivering body.

"You're okay, Bo. You're okay. I got ya. I'm right here."

Luke could hear Bo dissolving into a panic attack in the casket beside him. He felt helpless. He wished he could pull a Hulk and break right through these ropes and boards. "Bo, I need you to listen to me. I ain't ready to lose you. Bo?"

"L-lu-ke."

"Listen, cuz. I'm right here. You're okay. Ya just gotta calm down."

"C-can't."

"Yes, you can. You can do this."

"I-I'm t-trapped, L-uke."

"I'm gonna get ya out of this, Bo. But you need to listen to me. I want ya to close yer eyes, alright, and take a couple of deep breaths. We'll do it together. In," Luke demonstrated; he could hear Bo take a shaky breath in. "Out," he blew the air out slowly, and he could hear Bo doing the same. They did this ritual a few more times, punctuated by encouraging words from Luke. He could hear Bo's breathing steadying. "That's it, Bo. You're doing real good."

"I'm alright, Luke."

"Atta boy." They were quiet for a few minutes; Luke tested his bonds, and Bo shifted, trying to make himself more comfortable.

"Bo, I've been thinking. Let's rock these coffins back and forth. Maybe we can bang them together, get them on the floor, bust out of here."

"All right. I got nothing to lose but a mouthful of splinters." Luke smiled. Yeah, Bo was alright. He was cracking jokes again.

"Okay. Go for it." Rocking back and forth, they banged their respective coffins against each other, until they came to a stand-still. They were stuck. "You're leaning on me!"

"I ain't leaning on you. You're leaning on me." Luke rolled his eyes. Yupp, Bo was definitely fine.

"Oh, whichever. Go the other way, all right?" They banged against each other again. "The other way!"

"Here goes!" The coffins crashed to the floor, the old wood splintering into pieces. Luke took a deep, greedy breath of (relatively) fresh air. It felt good to be out of that little wooden box.

"You okay, Luke?" After all of that, his cousin was actually asking about him.

"You bet. Come on, Bo. Roll over here." They rolled over so that they were face-to-face, their hands touching. Luke starting working on the rope binding his cousins wrists. Once Bo was free, he untied Luke's wrists, and as Luke worked on freeing his own ankles, Bo rubbed the back of his neck and then his wrists. When he was hyperventilating, Bo's skin tended to become more sensitive, and it hadn't helped none the way he had been hustled and restrained. Luke helped his cousin stand. They looked at each other, and Luke clapped Bo on the back, before giving him a quick hug.

Not long after Luke had freed Bo, Mr. Davenport and Cletus arrived. Mr. Davenport offered to carry Bo back up to the house, but, with all due respect, Luke refused the offer and piggy-backed his cousin to the house. Bo clung to his neck, and rested his weary head on Luke's shoulder. In the warm kitchen, Mrs. Davenport made the boys some hot chocolate, and draped a blanket around Bo's shoulders. Mr. Davenport CB'ed Jesse to let him know Bo was safe.

Bo clung to Luke's side, speaking very little. Luke thought Bo must have had a real fright not to be his talkative self, and to forget to thank Mrs. Davenport for her kindness. In fact, it seemed like Bo wasn't fully aware of what was happening around him; though he drank from his mug with a relish, as though he hadn't had sustenance in days, he didn't answer of their questions. He held Luke's hand like it was a lifeline, keeping him from floating out to sea.

When the Davenport's front door opened, and Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane and Uncle Jesse entered, Bo threw himself into his uncle's arms. Roscoe offered to drive home Cletus, who was sure his Mama would whup him good – not for sneaking out to help the Dukes, but for not telling her what was going on and getting involved with Hughie.

Jesse kept Bo pressed to his side in the truck, his right arm wrapped around the boy, his left hand on the steering wheel. The three didn't speak, and Bo soon drifted off to sleep. With his uncle and cousin on either side of him, he knew he was safe. Jesse carried Bo into the house, and passed the boy to Martha, who cuddled him and led him off to get ready for bed. Daisy was anxious to hear the whole story, but Jesse quieted her prattling and sent her off to bed. "Ya have school in the morning, young lady," he admonished, when she protested. And Daisy never dared disobey if Uncle Jesse told her to do something twice. There would be no more talk about it tonight; there would be plenty of time to deal with what had happened tomorrow.

Jesse sat down at the kitchen table and sighed heavily. He ran a hand down his whiskered face. Luke thought he looked tired and old. He guessed it wasn't easy raising three kids, especially three rambunctious children with a penchant for getting into trouble. Luke shifted his weight from one foot to another, and then finally said, "Goodnight, Uncle Jesse."

"Luke."

"Yes, sir?"

"You're a good boy. Sharp too. You did good out there tonight."

"Thank you."

"Listen, I'm going to ask you to make me a promise, but I don't want you to do it, unless you think you can keep it."

"What is it?"

"Bo's got a reckless temper, and he gets himself in over his head more often than I can count. The good Lord knows that's not something he's gonna grow outta. But I want you to promise me that you'll take care of him. Someday I'm not gonna be here to take care of ya, nor Aunt Martha neither, and I wanna be sure that someone is looking out for that boy. It's a lot to ask of ya, but I trust ya. Do you think you could promise me that, that you'll always look after Bo?"

"Yes, sir, I promise."

Late into the night, Luke lay awake thinking about that promise. He was glad that Jesse trusted him with something that important, but he was worried too. What if he couldn't keep his promise? Who knew where the years ahead would take them? What if someday Bo decided that he didn't want Luke there to look after him anymore? If he failed Bo, he wouldn't just be disappointing Jesse. He'd be failing himself too.

"Luke?" Bo whispered. He was out of his bed, and standing beside Luke's.

"Yeah, Bo?"

"I had a nightmare. Can I sleep with you?"

"Sure ya can." Luke slid over to make some room for his cousin. The smaller boy crawled under the sheets next to him, and curled up close. They laid there in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for saving me."

There was a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue – which Bo would become familiar with in years to come – about how he should have kept his head about him and kept out of trouble. But glancing at his cousin's silhouette, by the light of the moon streaming through the window, Luke didn't want to say it. "I'll always save ya, Bo."

"I know you will." Bo was confident in Luke's promise to Jesse, even if he knew nothing about it, and even if Luke didn't believe in himself. Bo felt there was nothing his older cousin wouldn't do for him. "I love you, Luke."

"I love you too, Bo."

Luke drove the General Lee the rest of that day and the days following, and Bo didn't even complain about it. Their experience had shaken Bo up pretty badly – between the gas and the coffins and the panic attack. He wasn't really fit to drive. At least, not up to his usual speed, and to Bo anything less was a snail's pace. After panic attacks, he was liable to be shaky and on-edge for a couple days at least. Luke didn't want to chance it.

That night, Bo and Luke were sore and exhausted as they collapsed into bed. It wasn't every day that they were abducted, framed, and caught in a chase with their own look-alikes. More like every second day. It happened more often than one would think, aside from the freaky Halloween masks. But that was Hazzard for you.

Though he was completely drained, Luke couldn't sleep. He couldn't seem to turn his brain off. He kept replaying the day's events. Someday he should write some of this stuff down. Maybe he could sell it and make a hefty profit. No one would ever believe it.

"Luke, ya awake?" Bo whispered in the dark.

"Yeah."

"About today, I know I...with the smoke bomb and everything...sometimes I just...what I mean is...thank you."

"You're welcome."

"And Luke?"

"I know, Bo. Me too."

"Goodnight."

"Night." Luke listened as his cousin's breathing steadied and slowed. The sound comforted him, and he could feel himself drifting off to sleep. He thought sleeping in a dark, drafty, cramped room wasn't so bad, when he had his cousin there to share it with him.

END