Hey all! Special thanks to everyone who stayed with me on this one. It wasn't the easiest to read on a couple of levels, I know. I appreciate your support as I experimented with different material, and a different style. The boys are grateful as well. They did all the hard parts, really. I was just their conduit.

And for those who left a review in their wake - you guys are the best.

As always, I don't own them and I don't earn any money from what I post here. And if there is anything I have learned from this story, it's that none of us will ever own them. They will always do exactly what they want, no matter how much we might try to tell them not to.

Chapter 10 – Within Arm's Reach

There was a time, so long ago that it should have taken place in black and white, when they had been good at this. A bad thing to be good at, but they were. Knew the rhythm of death, the process of grief, the necessity of moving forward despite the pain. There was a time when they knew these things, but that was long ago and this was now.

The brunt of it, as usual, was throwing itself at Daisy with all the merciless force of the General landing on the far side of the long since washed-out Dry Creek Bridge. A Hazzard family was obligated to mourn their loss at the same time that they threw a huge party, and the female Duke was flawlessly playing the role of hostess. Since this was Jesse Duke, Uncle Jesse Duke, no less, who had raised half of Hazzard in his own way, this might have been the biggest party ever. It brought the entire town home, even those who had obligations in other parts of the country, like Enos and Cooter.

Good thing, Enos being here. Someone else to watch over Daisy, and the cop was doing just that. Bright spark that Daisy was, running around, tending to guests and refusing to consider rest, she could combust at any moment, and if she did, he pretty much figured the whole family would blow up right along with her.

The whole family, which was really just Daisy, him and Luke now. Luke, the other wild card in the room. The animal that was usually quite tame, but should never be poked at, or he just might bite. Luke could be ferocious when he was hurting. It had been a long time now since they'd all seen it, but none of them had forgotten exactly how angry he could get, least of all Cooter, one of the few people who'd been varmint enough to keep Luke at bay when they were younger.

So Enos was watching his female cousin, and Cooter had an eye on the oldest one, leaving Bo to himself. Nothing to do but think, but that was Luke's thing. Think and drink, because for all the promises made and all the years without a working still in the family, there seemed an unending supply of moonshine that their uncle had "kept back." For medicinal purposes, of course.

The suffering that Bo feared, well it had happened, but had mercifully been very brief. Their uncle must have been exhausted. When it was clear that even Emma Tisdale no longer knew how to care for him (and amazingly, she possessed twice the skill of Daisy when it came to these things. Why didn't you give her a chance earlier, Uncle Jesse? She obviously loved you), they'd had to move Jesse to a hospital. At first, the three of them had all been there, but that quickly became impossible to maintain. So they'd begun taking turns staying with him, and before two weeks could pass, they'd gotten that call from Luke – come right now.

And though the man that raised them hadn't been conscious in days, it made perfect sense that he would choose Luke's watch to die. Everyone knew Luke could handle it. And if Bo might normally be frustrated that his uncle didn't see him as being as capable as his oldest cousin, this time he was secretly relieved. Oh, he and Daisy had made it to the hospital in time to say goodbye, but the one who took the worst of the crisis was Luke, and that only seemed well, just -- right. The way it had always been.

Thinking, Bo was left to now, because Luke, he was doing all the drinking. Quietly, but with obvious determination. Drinking in exactly the same manner you'd fill in a hole, one that was six feet deep. One shovel (or mouth) full at a time. Thing was, a hole could be filled. This gap in his cousin, in him, nothing could ever fill. No amount of Jesse's moonshine would ever replace Jesse. And for all his oh-so-smarts, Luke never did seem to learn that lesson. Still, he was going quiet and easy into drunk, and that was more than a mercy, because a loud, rough, drunken Luke was about as dangerous as things could get.

Daisy was looking, well, just like Daisy always did, unless you knew her well, had grown up knowing every muscle in her face. The frown under the smile – Bo could see it and so he nodded to Enos. Wandered over to Cooter, and mumbled a suggestion to the former mechanic before sitting next to Luke. Waited for Cooter to move away, then Bo gently took Luke's drink away from him, finished it himself. It wasn't that he really wanted that fire in his own belly right now, but he knew that Luke would tolerate sharing, but would never let his youngest cousin tell him that he'd had too much, even (especially) when he had. Drinking Luke's moonshine kept them on even ground, sharing a drink like they had since the first time Luke deemed him old enough to sip off the top of his beer.

"Cuz." Didn't want to fight, didn't think he'd have to. But he approached Luke carefully all the same.

Blank stare, just the slightest fold of skin between Luke's eyes, as if he already had a headache, but there was no one at home in that brilliant blue. Well, this was good and bad. Luke was pretty far gone, but he wouldn't put up any kind of a struggle. "Come on," Bo said, hauling Luke to his feet, and away from the dining table that he'd clearly been sitting at for too long. Hoped that by the time they got to the far end of the living room, Cooter would have accomplished his mission. Looked like he had – empty couch and that would do for now. Soon it would be empty house, because even if Hazzard needed this party, everyone in the county understood the Duke kids' need for it to end, and Enos and Cooter would see that they found the door quickly enough.

Daisy, though. She might have been ready for the party to break up, but not because Bo had set it in motion. Dark, glaring eyes that she normally saved for Luke were aimed at him right now. Couldn't worry about that, though he stored it away for future reference. For now he had to determine whether Luke needed more than a rest. And, thankfully, Emma Tisdale understood herself to be their de facto aunt and took Daisy quietly away – somewhere. Didn't matter where, not right now. Not while he was helping Luke figure out how to lie down (and this was not the first time Luke had been too drunk to remember how to do that, but it had been a long while), not while he was making sure that his oldest cousin didn't wind up on his back.

Somewhere in there, Cooter tapped him, the nod of his head indicating that he and Enos were the last ones left and on their way out. The sound of Miz Tisdale keeping Daisy busy with cleaning away the debris was a welcome one. It was almost over now, the public grieving. Now the real grieving could begin.

With Luke all stretched across the couch and bearing watching, there was no place for Bo to go but the patriarch's recliner. Sat there and figured he didn't know how to do this, how to be the one that his cousins could count on. Luke was drunk and Daisy was angry and it all boiled down to him being something he'd never tried to be before. (Steady, Bo. How many times had Luke said that to him? Understanding, finally. Steady, not just for the next two minutes, but for a lifetime. That would be what it took to really sit in this chair.) But for now, Luke seemed unlikely to actually need him for awhile, and he could hear Daisy thanking Miz Tisdale and saying goodbye to her. (She's grieving, too. We need to spend more time with her. But that was for tomorrow or the next day.) Hoped Daisy wouldn't yell at him right now for breaking up the party, but when she came into the living room and he was forced to look up at her from his semi-slouched position, she just stared quietly back before planting herself at his side on the arm of the chair. Uncle Jesse would tan her hide for sitting on the furniture that way – sat himself up and pulled her into his lap. Felt her snuggle into his neck and rested.

Must've been hours later that she woke him with a kiss to his forehead, saying she was off to bed and telling him to do the same; Luke would live through the night. But Bo was up now, so he just watched his oldest cousin, figuring the sun would be up soon enough, and maybe by then he'd know how to handle everything.

Well, wasn't this just perfect. He had drunk himself stupid, privately hoping that somehow the condition would be permanent, but here he was, coming to and perfectly aware of absolutely everything. The pain in his head echoed the one in his heart and together they threatened to make him sick.

But – Bo's snores.

Knew he was on the couch because that one seam between the cushions was digging into his shoulder blades like it always did anytime he'd napped here. The couch was too short for him (and Bo's feet hung off by miles whenever he happened to fall asleep here), too old to be comfortable for more than the briefest of naps, anyway. So he was on the couch of the old farmhouse where he'd grown up, and why was Bo snoring? Bo should be in their room, in bed, but – too bright for this but – managed to unglue one eyelid just enough, and there was Bo. Keeping watch over him, 'cept that watch dog done fell asleep.

Chores, he decided, would have made all of this bearable. If they'd been running a farm, there would be chores. And he could have punished himself by trying to do them, hung over and sick like he was.

Hauled himself up with some half baked plan to –

Nope. Bathroom first. Tried to stay quiet in there. No need to disturb anyone else, and in truth that was a selfish thought. Did not want to see his cousins' faces until he could trust his own not to betray his feelings. And that might take hours.

Got a grip on his stomach and was going to keep it. Headed to the kitchen with the idea of maybe some toast, but missed, somehow overshot and found himself out in the cool of the front porch. Sat himself right down on those steps, elbows on knees, legs slightly spread and head hanging down. No way to sleep like this, but a man could try.

Sleep, maybe not, but he must've lost some of his awareness of the world because he was startled by that creak in the kitchen floor behind him, that board that had never been fixed. And from the timbre (a lifetime of hearing it change as they'd all grown and gained weight) it was Bo. A walking guilt trip, his cousin. Luke had done him wrong yesterday, Bo and Daisy both. He'd been there for them from the time their uncle had passed and on through the burial, resting very little himself, but seeing that they found enough peace to sleep and stay functional. And then, once the services were over, and he'd managed to get back home, the lack of privacy had done him in. He'd found his own peace in oblivion.

He'd only been the Duke patriarch for four days, and already he'd screwed it up.

His cousin had never been light of step, but this morning, he'd clearly become an elephant, one that Luke could feel almost as well as he heard him. And he knew the moment Bo realized where he was, too. Heard the door behind him screech open then slam, and before he could yell about it (good thing, too, since yelling might actually have caused his head to explode) his cousin's hand was on his shoulder, and all that weight was thumping down next to him.

"How you doing, Lukas?" Well, he'd spent pretty nearly his whole life next to this loud man. There was absolutely no reason on Earth he should have expected him to get quiet now.

A hand in the air then dropping back into his lap, he decided, was all Bo needed in order to understand that he would live. Wished he'd had a few more hours to pull himself together, but he just didn't. It was time now. They weren't kids.

"How about you?" he managed, looking his cousin deep in the eyes.

"Not… not so great." It was the eye contact that had done it, gone right through that façade and into Bo's heart. Luke had always had the easiest access there.

And, easy as breathing, Luke pulled Bo to his side, and let his cousin lean on him. Was glad his cousin was within arm's reach. It was time.

Daisy. Sometimes she was their anchor and sometimes she was the very person that could sail them straight into those rough seas.

Over the weeks since Jesse's death, Luke had been turning the place into a farm again. Spring was mostly past so there wasn't a ton he could plant this year. But livestock, that he'd been acquiring. Bo had been part of the decision-making, but not the investment, not yet. He and Luke had agreed that until the youngest Duke was really ready to move back to Hazzard to stay, he shouldn't incur the expense of the farm. And for now, Luke's savings were enough to get the place going again.

Daisy was a disaster around the livestock, seemed to have forgotten the chores they'd spent most of their waking hours on for twenty-plus years. Was burning things she tried to cook. Was sewing one pair of pants to another. Was obviously struggling.

For all that Luke was supposed to be so intelligent, he lacked a particular skill when it came to women. He knew how to do a lot of things with the female of the species. Talking to them, however, his super-smart brain couldn't handle.

Bo ought to resent that Luke wasn't even trying, but after a lifetime with his cousin, he knew Luke wasn't very likely to change. Besides, it just went to prove that smart wasn't everything.

"Daisy." Spooked her pretty good, and he hadn't even gotten to the hard part yet. Took the ladle out of her hand and turned off the flame under her soup, just to be on the safe side. Caught a nervous look from Luke, too, out of the corner of his eye. But his oldest cousin was a safe distance away in the living room, pretending to be invisible. It was mostly working, too. "Sit," he ordered his female cousin, gently enough that she did. Now what? Snuck a glance at Luke, who looked downright green. No help there. Closed his eyes.

And remembered. Understood, suddenly, why their uncle had done it so often, this eye-closing thing. Consulted Jesse silently, behind those lids, just as his uncle had probably consulted his own mother. What do I do? Found his answer.

"Your mind ain't here. You ain't set fire to the house yet, but you're gonna, soon, unless you do some serious settling down. What's going on, girl?" Even managed to sound like Jesse, to his own ears, anyway. Sat across from her and waited. Watched her look at the table, slender fingers tracing old scars, and bit his tongue to keep himself from talking.

When her head lifted, he was reminded of a hundred childhood moments, when she'd catch his eye like this. Got a secret for you, Bo. Of course, back then, her lips would have been formed into a half-smile, right corner of the lower one between her teeth. And the look would have been followed by the name of a boy, one that his female cousin had her eye on. (Don't tell Luke, she'd beg, and back then he hadn't understood why. Some years later when she stopped confiding in him that way, well, by then he knew.)

"I promised Uncle Jesse I'd go back to school." It was news and, come to think of it, wasn't. Just like their uncle to nudge his only girl that way. Bo and Luke he'd leave to their own decisions. Daisy, well, he'd guide her and count on her cousins doing the same. Wasn't exactly fair, but Hazzard might never figure out how to be that kind of fair.

"And you don't want to?" He'd stayed quiet as long as he could. Bo had an opinion on this matter, and it matched his uncle's.

"I do, but I can't leave y'all here…" And this was the other half of the equation. The menfolk would guide the women, and in turn would find themselves on the other end of some serious mothering. One heck of a mixed up place, Hazzard. And Bo would never have known just how different and wonderful it was, if he hadn't left for awhile.

"We'll be fine, sweetheart." And just look at that, Luke had magically made himself visible and even downright audible again, now that all the cards were on the table. Ought to resent that, but well, it was just… Luke. And they were on the same side, so there was officially nothing to complain about. "Bo's goin' back to Atlanta for awhile anyways, and I been livin' on my own for a few years now. I promise not to starve to death without you."

She hadn't heard that last sentence, clearly hadn't heard a thing after 'Atlanta.' Disbelief.

"You're going back?"

"Just for one more season." And why did he feel like he needed to justify this? Luke was fine with it.

But she wasn't mad, he could see that now. Wasn't asking for justification or explanation. She was just surprised. And maybe, just maybe, that look on her face right now came close to admiration.

"Good for you, sugar."

It was too soon. They'd both known the date for a couple of weeks now, but it was still too soon. Daisy was up in Durham, having managed to find her way back to school after all, so now it was just the two of them left. And somewhere in the next few minutes, there would only be one. Probably. Everything in Bo's eyes and posture was second thoughts right now.

Didn't make this easier.

"Cousin." In the past few years Luke had learned one thing. "What do you want?" To ask, not to assume he knew.

"To go. To stay. Both." As to tolerating Bo's nonsense, he'd never really get any better at that, probably, but his cousin didn't even seem to notice him rolling his eyes. About the same way he never noticed the green grass or the fresh air. Luke's eye rolls, his smirks, his sarcastic comments, even, were just – there.

"Pick one." Not as impatient as it sounded really. Just stating a fact. Bo had to pick one.

"We's always been a team, Luke."

A team of mules, Jesse taunted from wherever he was (felt an awful lot like right here, on his own front porch). Heartbreaking and comforting all at once to realize that in this way, his uncle would never leave them. Felt his face twist through the emotions until it ended in that half-smile. Rested his hands on Bo's shoulders in a deeply familiar way. Figured there ought to be grooves there, worn into the bone and muscle, considering the number of times he'd reached out to his cousin this way.

"We's always been a team," he agreed. "And we's always gonna be. Me and the farm, we ain't goin' nowheres. We'll be here, come winter, waitin' for you."

A nod.

"Pick one."

Felt himself pulled tightly into Bo's arms. This kind of affection was just a fact of life, if you'd grown up with Bo Duke. Best just to let it happen, because it was going to anyway.

"I'll be home in December." He'd picked one. It wasn't the one Luke wanted, deep in his gut. Wanted to keep Bo here, within arm's reach, but the older Duke was a patient man. He could manage for another seven months or so before his cousin came home. Besides, in the end, Bo shouldn't have any regrets. Luke didn't. And it was Jesse's parting gift to them – no regrets.

"I'll miss you." Okay so he'd learned two things. To ask, and to say.

"Love you, Luke."

"I know." Oh well. Bo would understand.

Held on that extra minute, so close, eyes shut tight against leaking moisture, Bo's heavy breath shifting the dark curls above his ear (hidden tears in that, too), then let his cousin go and watched him get into the sedan he'd been driving. Waved as Bo drove away, and settled his face into that lopsided smile. He could wait. It wouldn't be long now before they were the Dukes of Hazzard again.