We're back! This is the continuation of Letters from War, and as you could probably tell by the excellent writing, this chapter is courtesy of Elenhin. Read and please review- it's such an encouragement to us! Thanks! -Jordyn, Ani and Elenhin

Luke drove a fist into the duffel bag. The thing could handle it and more. It wasn't the first time he drove a fist into it. It just was that the thing wasn't all that comfortable and certainly wasn't meant to be used for a pillow. Luke didn't care. He was tired. He wanted to sleep and the duffel bag was all he had. He was at the train station and in an hour he would catch a greyhound bus that would take him to Hazzard... that was one hour waiting and then he would be home with his family.

They weren't really expecting him which would probably make it a bit awkward but they had actually woken him up to tell him the leave was granted and his ride left in half an hour which meant he had to throw a few things into the duffel bag before he headed out. The first time he was able to stop for an hour he had gone shopping rather than search out a phone. A few cans of soda and a plain loaf of bread went for food as he knew he'd be cooped up at times and not always sure where he would be able to get something to eat.

Not wanting to head home without getting them something he picked out a pocket knife that just had something over it that made him think of his uncle, a measure of some flimsy materials with the sweetest butterflies and flower pattern on it for Daisy, since he assumed that she would be able to make something of it. A compass for Bo; it looked almost like a pocket watch and while Bo could tell the directions well enough around Hazzard, he wanted Bo to be able to know in what direction to look towards his cousin.

It was all safe in the duffel bag and none of it would break from a fist. The thing was that he was hungry, exhausted and aching badly. No proper rest on the ride home but only hard train seats and bumpy roads had kept him in a constant pain. While not too bad the persistent ache utterly drained him of strength and while he was starving, he only cared about lying down and resting before he got on the next bus.

No one wanted to talk with the Marine and so he sat alone in his seat of bus and relaxed as the bus approached Hazzard. He left the square and hardly even looked around before he shouldered his bag and walked off towards the farm.

It was second nature to him by now. If he wanted to get there, he got there. There was nothing like calling for a ride, it was simply marching. It was also not half as bad as it had been before he got through his Marine training. Now, it was a pleasant stroll as compared to the full week treks through the jungle.

He only stopped when he came upon the farm house. It wasn't really a constant thought either. Once he looked up ahead and saw the house there he was just unable to take another step before he took in the sight and for the first time since he threw the spare pair of socks into the duffel bag he found himself smiling.

It was run down and in bad need of paint. Obviously the porch roof needed a bit of mending and anyone could tell for sure that they were redneck hicks what with the goat by the back porch and the chicken on the pole beside the door.

It was home.

Grinning he bent down to pet the goat, grinning at him and wincing as it gently bumped him in a friendly gesture. It seemed that the farm animals had not yet forgotten him. Even though Luke himself felt awkward and out of place at the moment. With his crew cut hidden under his cover that he wished he could keep on to make sure Bo would not see the faint scar. He was wearing a uniform so different from the jeans and shirts everyone else wore with military boots instead of cowboy boots.

Even alone he was marching the same as if he was in the line. He was a Marine and it would only take first glance to see it. Yet the goat didn't care. The goat couldn't be bothered to care about the difference between green fabric and a plaid shirt.

Straightening up again Luke pushed open the screen door and stepped inside. The pick up was not there so he assumed that Jesse was out working in the fields and his cousins should be in school. It would leave him a few hours for a much needed nap and let him lie down on something soft. He only hoped that no one would take him for a burglar and hit him over the head as they came back.

He stepped inside the boys' room, grinning as Bo's bed looked utterly untouched with the blanket neatly done while his own was a slight bit more wrinkled. So Bo was still sleeping in that one, well, he could not say that he minded it at all.

He walked past his normal bed and sat down on Bo's while he unlaced his boots, the way his ribs ached at the moment it hardly made a difference if he pulled at them or not. The thing was that cracked ribs was bad, broken worse, and with a piece chipped lose it was one of the worst. Now one of his ribs under the scar had a slightly uneven edge and that was another thing he hoped that his cousins wouldn't notice. While the scar at his hairline was more obvious, a hug might have them wondering what was up with his rib.

Putting the boots on the floor he was just going to lie down as he heard a noise from the other room. He frowned as he realized that Daisy had to be home after all. Was she sick then? Worry made him push weariness aside as he pushed back to his feet and padded across the hall. Her door was slightly open but it was only now he started to hear the sounds of soft crying from in there.

Pushing it open a crack he peeked inside, not wanting to disturb her if she was sleeping.

Once more he found himself smiling as he looked inside. Daisy was lying on the bed fully dressed and in her arms was Luke's old stuffed Billy goat. What had him smiling was the ribbon tied over only one horn. She had told him that she had found it and had sent him one ribbon. When they were kids he had always teased her about the poor goat having to wear her ribbons, but the teasing was a game between them.

She wasn't sleeping, she was crying and there was a picture of Tommy there too and the smile faded from his lips as he stepped inside. It seemed to him that Daisy was going through with Tommy what Bo had gone through with the coffins. Bo was doing better now, but it didn't seem to him that Daisy was doing too good. He could only hope that writing her and admitting that he had been hurt had not made it worse.

She must have heard him for now she turned her head away.

"I'm tired Uncle Jesse. I'm gonna try sleep some," she mumbled and Luke felt the worry well up in him again.

"Daisy," he said softly as he walked into the room.

She didn't look up but she stiffened and he hoped that he hadn't scared her.

"Daisy… cousin..." He spoke as softly as he could to her. "I'm here now Daisy."

"Luke?" She turned her head to look at him and Luke nodded slowly sitting down beside her.

"It's me Daisy. I'm home on leave." Not knowing how to comfort her, the best Luke could give her was a soft smile as he gathered her close to him, leaning against the headboard of the bed and pulling her up in his arms. He couldn't care less that it put pressure on his ribs. This was his cousin and she was very clearly upset. Remembering how he had comforted her in the past by just sitting and holding her when they were children he did just that, though then she would be holding her bear Fred, or occasionally his bear, Ginger, rather than Billy. For the rest it was the same the way she leaned into him as he stroked her hair to let her feel safe.