Kristy_DUke

I think John Schneider did both of them. John was really into magic acts and doing magic/card tricks while growing up and all.

~LUKE DUKE~ Abruptly I am thrown awake due to another harsh nightmare that sends cold sweat racing down my face with chills racing up and down my back. Jolts of pain shoots through my body as I stiffly sit up from resting against the hard hollow wall that I sit next to. My vision clears up after a long moment to realize that I am once again in Bo's hospital bed instead of standing next to Frank Mills watching Bo being beat at gun point. For a long moment I stare down at Bo as the night mare of watching Bo being held at gun point plays clearly in my head as the feeling of hoplessness once again conquours my body. If only he'd wake up... I force myself to take my eyes off of my silently still cousin to look up at his monitors that shows no improvement if any at all. I sigh warily as I remind myself to be strong for my cousin as I had always been in the past. "C'mon Bo...please wake up...we all need you to wake up," I sigh looking down at Bo as I begin to run my hand through his thick golden blond hair and sigh at the sight of his bruised forehead, "Uncle Jesse has been home for over a week now...he's been here as well as Daisy and Cooter. Jesse is going crazy with you not waking up...we all are. And ... Bryceton. He's moved into the farm a couple of days ago I guess. Jess says he's really approving and opening up there." I sigh in frusteration as all I get for return is the off beat of his monitors, the only thing telling us he's still somewhat a live instead of dead. I watch for a moment, taking in his still bruised and cut up body as my imagination plays wildly within me at all they had done to him while being captive. "Jesse is doing OK at home, he has reoccuring nightmare...it all still haunts him I am told. I guess that is what is to be expected," I sigh watching him lie silently as if in protest against ever waking up, "maybe if you were to wake up and be Ok, it'd help brighten him up? He...we all need you to wake up. We can get through this and on with our lifes together. "I know I haven't been the best at being there for you or helping you out since I came home, but I promise, I'll hang tough for you...I'll be there for you," I force myself to take a pause to fight off the tears that slowly leak down my cheeks, "you are my best friend...I have failed you, which means I have failed my best friend! I'm sorry...I will do anything you want to make it up to you...just please...please wake up." I fall into silence as the tears fall down my face uncontrollably and I am forced to hide my face into my hands. Slowly I fall into prayer for my cousin to wake up, to be Ok, for my family to return to the family I once knew. Abruptly my prayers are interrupted as I feel Bo's left bruised hand under my arms slowly move and jump in great surprise as I feel a stiff and cold finger wiping a trail of my tears awake. Quickly I look up from my hands and my heart comes to a halt to find Bo awake looking at me from above the tubes in this throat and in his nose. His baby blue eyes are clouded with harsh pain and harsh fear as he looks up at me as if wanting to tell me, though the tube blocks him from saying anything. "Bo!" I smile at him and I excitedly hug him, "You're awake!...Wait here a second...let me get your doctor!" He looks at me in protest as I quickly leave to attreave his doctor of which I find at the front desk.

Kristy takes in the two doctors in front of her as they talk back and forth about Shay's condition. Listening to them talk, to Appleby filling the new doctor in on Shay's condition, makes her heart tighten in painful realization on how serious this is. Before she only took it as it being a ritual child hood sickness like ear infection. But of what she is hearing seems to be a lot worse than any normal sickness that a child may go through at his age. "Is it OK that I have Dr. Walker stop by later today to look at Shay? To get her prognosis of his condition?" Appleeby says turning to Kristy, "I think it fit that she gets to it as soon as possible since she will be his doctor real soon now." "I don't have a problem with having her come by tonight to check on Shay," Kristy says feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "But what?" Appleby says stepping up to her desk, "I hear a but in that statement, Kristy." "But you know he'll have a fit," Kristy answers, "you know he don't take strangers well...he don't take you lookin' at him well." "Seperation anxiety," Appleby inserts, "every kid goes through it sooner or later, Shay may have it worse than others, but all the same. He'll have to grow use to Dr. Walker sooner or later...as will you." "I know," Kristy forces a smile at the two doctors, "I'll be home at 6:00 or around there, depends on when Hogg lets me out of here. . . How bad is it? Shay's condition?" Kristy looks at the two doctors, fighting back the tears that threaten to fall as her imagination plays games with her on how bad Shay's condition could be.

Kristy tiredly looks up from one of the papers she is editing as a roar of angry voices explodes through her closed door from the sheriff's station. Glaring up at the clock to reveal she has over an hour of work left to be done she slowly arrises from her old wobbly scratched wooden chair and makes her way stiffly to her closed door. Warily she opens the door as she lets her curiousity catch a hold of her to know what is going on. For a long moment she takes in the familiar scene of another arguement upon the local law, but this time with a new face. A pretty face to a tall woman that she has never met before standing besides the local doctor, both of them looking angry enough to shoot fire balls from thier eyes at Boss and Rosco. "Oh is this the poor guest into our fine county that you labeled as being dangerous, eh Rosco?" Kristy snarls at him to recieve a hard cold glare from Rosco's icy blue eyes. "Ghee ghee...you stay out of it Kristy Duke!" Rosco trips over his words, "I already warned her 'bout you Dukes!" "Is that so?" Kristy asks sarcastically, "Have you also warned her about how you like to implant speeding traps, how you and Hogg there frame my brothers and cousin none stop? I bet you forgot to tell her that." "You Dukes are all the same...y'all just lie," Rosco accuses me, "and if you just have to know, Kristy, she managed to wreck both Enos' and my patrol car, resisted arrest, and now impersonating a doctor." "I thought you dropped them charges?" Appleby cuts in placing a protective arm around the new comer's tense shoulders. "Ghee ghee." "Well, knowing you Rosco...you and Enos wrecked your patrol cars not her," Kristy snaps. "That is all I need to hear from you Kristy!" Boss yells from behind his cigar, "Where's Rosco's report on Garrett?" he blows smoke into Kristy's direction, "You know...from him illegally parking that heap of trash he calls a car. You better not have found a way to misplace it elsewhere like last time or you'll be out looking for another job!" "It's on the desk," I answer, "I just heard the commotion out here and figured I'd see what's -" "Well I suggest you to get back in there and work on your own business!" Hogg snaps at her. "Well I need to talk to Appleby 'bout Shay," Kristy says quietly. "Too bad," Hogg snaps, "We all agreed when you started that family wouldn't interrupt with your work, so get to it!" "Yes sir," Kristy says before backing back into her office to finish her stack of reports to edit.

Kristy sits tiredly behind her small scarred chesnut desk staring blankly down at the few pieces of paper that lie spread out in front of her. Anxiety rushes down her spine as the slow rhythmatic ticking of the small circular clock echos off the tannish white hollow walls that surround her. Her mind remains clogged of thoughts from last night as she stares blankly at the sheriff's messy hand writing that lies on most of the papers that lies upon her desk. Suddenly, her thoughts are interrupted by a loud thunder of knocking upon her scarred wooden door that she had closed. "It's open," she says dryly as she forces herself to look as if she was working. Abruptly the door is thrown open to force the hinges to squeak, echoing off of the hollow walls. Kristy slowly looks up to find the short round County Commissioner dressed in his normal attire of his three piece suit standing in the door frame with a smoking cigar in his right hand. "Where's the Pentman report?" he demands bringing the cigar to his mouth to inhale before exhaling it in her face to force her to cough. "You know the one Rosco wrote up yesterday?" For a long moment she stares blankly at him, trying to hold back her temper before searching her desk. "Here it is," she says shoving it at him and he only glares back at her. "There is a visiter here for you...I give you two minutes...top," he grunts and Kristy glares at the open door way to find her six foot two inches tall brother standing there watching, "runs over two, he's under arrest and you'll be recieving a pay cut. Understand?" "You're so kind Boss," Kristy snarls at him as he glares over his shoulder as he exits. "I keep tellin' you that you should find a better job," Garrett, Kristy younger brother says walking into the office, "you deserve better than what he gives you." "So you keep tellin' me, but I need the money," Kristy shrugs glaring up at Garrett who runs his right muscular hand through his sandy blonde hair before rubbing his silver ear ring ring in his right ear. "So what brings you here? Is Shay OK? Who is with him?" "Relax, Uncle Jesse and Daisy are taking care of him," he sighs leaning over on my desk, "Doctor Appleby was over this morning due to Jesse callin' him. This morning he woke up with a 102. 1 temperature. A degree worse than last night." "Damn it," Kristy sighs tiredly as her night awake with her ten month son crying and screaming echos in her head, "what did the doctor say?" "Somethin' about retiring soon," he says before getting an angry glare from his sister, "Oh right, about Shay. He tested him...says it seems that Shay has caught a bad case of strep throat." "Dang," Kristy shakes her head as she is washed with worry for her son, "probably caught it from Shawn from day care...he went home last Thursday with a high temperature...Shay's teacher told me on Friday what it was." "Well from wherever he caught it, he has it," Garrett says, "I am in town to grab some medicine for him...says if gets any worse he may need his tonsils out. But the medication should work it for now." "Great," Kristy says under her breath, "like I have the money for surgery! I hardly get a dime from this job and I am racking up medical payments, now surgery?" "Relax Kristy...Appleby says he should be fine, that was what the worse case could lead to," Garrett says rubbing his inch long side burns, "I just figured that I'd stop by and give you the update. I better get -" He is quickly is interrupted by the CB radio that rests upon the small book shelf that lies against the wall. "Enos," the sheriff's familiar voice calls through the static. "Yes sheriff," the deputy's squeaky voice responds quickly with a hint of nervousness in his voice. "I want you to pull up a road block up by the Hazzard Pond on Cotton Mill Road," Rosco repliles, "there is a new suspicious vehicle that I am now following on Cotton Mill Road, a mile from the pond. Be on look out for a black Bronco...don't want no dangerous criminal on the prowl in Hazzard. Khee khee." "But sheriff," Enos replies nervously, "just 'cause the car isn't familar around these parts, that don't make it dangerous?" "Oh shush you dipstick!" Rosco yells over the CB, "We'll find out then when we ticket the owner, until you keep it quiet. We don't want no one finding out and spookin' him!" "Yes sir," Enos replies with restraint. "I wonder who they framin' this time?" Garrett mills when the CB goes back to silence. "Dunno...just lucky it ain't you or Bo and Luke this time," Kristy says looking up at Garrett, "Now you better git before you get yourself arrested." "Sure thing, I'll meet you at home this afternoon," he says heading to the door before stopping, "And Kristy?" "Yeah?" she asks. "Shay'll be fine...every kid gets sick every now and then," he replies before disappearing around the corner.

I have seen 'em too...believe I posted about the commercials here before. Glad to see it back up here. Never can have too much of John or Tom! Talented men! Hazzard was sure blessed to have them in it's line up! As well as the rest of the cast as well...very talented cast!

~A WEEK LATER~ Emotions swirl like a whirl wind through my aging body as my mind races from thought to thought. This is the day I had been waiting so long for, the day has arrived where I finally can be driven home and walk through the old farm house filled with memories, freedom, and security. Never had I thought that I could walk away from Drake still breathing and still alive to be able to return home and now the day has arrived where I can go home. Excitement rushes through me like a teenager on his first dance or his first date and I fight back from jumping up from the wheel chair to wrap Daisy in a hug. "I want to see Bo," I finally say cutting through the thick silence that had came between us since she wheeled me out of my room, after talking to my doctor, "I need to see Bo." "I figured you'd want to," she sighs as my thoughts return to the last few days being held captive with Bryceton, to waking up to finding Bo there all beaten and bruised. I never felt that angry at anyone before, knowing that Drake had beaten him and to see the pain in his pain clouded baby blue eyes. The following days I sat and witnessed Drake beat him repeatedly with anything and everything, torturing and beating him instead of Bryceton. How could anyone hurt them? Tears cloud my eyes as images of Bo's funeral cloud my mind as if I was a psychic and could predict the future, seeing a life without my youngest. Suddenly Daisy stops in front of a door after a long ride down an elevator and a long walk down a bright dull long hall way. Walking to the door she looks at me and says, "Uncle Jesse, you OK? You could go home and rest...I'd be glad to take you back here after you all rested up and all. That could be best for -" "That isn't what's best for me! I'm fine...OK...I am fine," I sigh after interrupting her, "I just can't loose him...or anyone of you." "I know," she tries to smile but is unsusseful at it, "Luke is in there now, but I am sure he will leave if you want some time a lone with him." I look at her and nod numbly at her as I fight to imagine all that he had went through without me and I can't help but to feel his pain, though his past year and a half is vague to me. I watch warily as Daisy slowly opens the door and from the dark corner I spot Luke standing up at the sight of us. Slowly I motion her to move me in, to Bo's bed. Quickly my attention is averted to the last of the two beds, the one that lies occupied. The two monitors monitoring his breathing and his heart shows that both are very weak and very irregular, his four IVs drip into him, echoing off the hollow walls. "Uncle Jesse," Luke greets us at the first bed, "how you doin'?" "OK," I answer numbly staring past him and out of the corner of my eye I notice Luke nodding at Daisy, excusing himself to leave me with Bo. As Daisy pushes me next to his barred in bed my heart comes to a quick halt at the sight of his ghostly white skin that lies bruised and cut in most areas, at the sight of the large tube down his through and in his nostrils. His right hand and arm has been replastered into a new cast while his left hand looks swollen and bruised as well. "I'll let you to be a lone with him, I'll be in the hall way when you need me," Daisy finally says and I can only nod at her and listen to her shoes squeak against the tile floor and to the open and close of the door. "Bo," I finally hear myself speaking his name and I slowly begin to run my hand through his thick blond hair as I once did as he was a child only to find his forehead cut and bruised as well. "there is so much I could say to you right now...you are an amazing person, to have made it past all that you went through since I've been gone. You are here for a reason and your reason hasn't been completed yet...so please wake up, everyone here is begging and waiting for you to wake up." Tears swell in my eyes as all I get for a response is the beeping of his monitors. "I have missed you so much since I have been gone, I am so proud of you," I pause trying to think of what to say, "I spose Luke told you that I am thinking of adopting Bryceton? I wish you were awake to tell me what you think, but I'm sure Luke tol' me best for you when sayin' he didn't approve of me adopting him due to you needing me. I'm here Bo for you...and for Bryceton. I am highly thinkin' of adopting him, all I need to do is sign papers for him, we all went through the legal options the other day. He is such a loving caring boy Bo...I think you would love him too if you gave him a chance." I look at him fighting to figure out how his action would be if he were awake and hearing me talking to him. I sigh recalling a night in the cabin when Bryceton had called me Uncle Jesse in front Bo, Bo hadn't said anything, but his body tensed up. He didn't approve; wouldn't approve. Luke was right. I sigh fighting for the right choice as I look at Bo's still body, praying for him to awaken. "I know you wouldn't approve...you didn't seem too fond of him in the cabin, I don't know if it was a jealousy thing over me or for some other reason, I just sensed you not likin' him too much," I sigh, "but I just sense that this is what I am meant to do...that I must adopt him. I hope that you and Luke will forgive me and learn to love him as much as I do...I know you will. You just need to give him a chance. I am here for you as for Bryceton and as for Luke and Daisy. I am here for all of you." I go silent as I take him in with hope of seeing him awake soon after him being in a coma over a week now. Within the week I have witnessed Luke's spirit drown more day by day that he lies in the coma and tears swell in my eyes at the thought of loosing Bo. If Bo were to die, if we were to loose him, it would change so much. I told Luke that Bo needed Luke, and Bo does need Luke as he always do, but I also know that Luke needs Bo as much as Bo needs Luke; even though Luke would never allow to show it or to say as Bo would show it. Once again I pray for Bo to wake up and to be OK as I fight back the tears that start trailing down my face. "Please wake up Bo...we all need you to wake up...we can't loose you Bo," I finally say as I finish my prayers as Luke walks in behind me with Daisy and as they reach me I say, "I am going to adopt Bryceton...think that is what I am suppose to do. I feel it...it is the right thing." Daisy puts a comforting hand on my shoulder and Luke smiles weakly at me and t hrough his eyes I can see all the sleepless nights he has spent here with Bo. "He'll love to hear that...let's go see him and get them papers signed," Daisy smiles. "You wanna come a long?" I ask Luke. "No thanks...I wanna stay here," he smiles looking at Bo, "I want to be here for ...for Bo." "Look...he wouldn't want you to just sit here, he'd want you to live your life, move on," I sigh, "yeah be here, but -" "I am gonna stay," he interrupts, "I'm not gonna move out of this hospital until he does." "Ok," I smile at him as he leans down and gives me a hug before Daisy leads me to find Bryceton at the orphanage in town.

~UNCLE JESSE~ I awake yelling out in fear and in pain to find myself covered in thick icy cold sweat as my nightmare plays clearly in my head. The nightmare that I had awaken to several hours ago when I took a short nap, the nightmare that I know will plague me for a long time. I sigh heavily, feeling the pain run down my back, as my mind goes back to the past, to the way life once had been for me before I had witness Drake beating on his boy. I pray wishfully that life will return to normal for all of us while we all take care of the farm and look out for one another, though in the back of my head I know that life will never return back to normal or the way it once had been before all this. Everyone has went through so much, too much to forget about it and move on as if it never happened. "It's OK Uncle Jesse," I hear Daisy say next to me as she wipes my forehead with a cold damp wash rag, "just another bad dream." "You're still here," I smile at her as I run my hand over her patite hand that rests on my right hand on my chest. "Yeah...I'm still here," she smiles, "Cooter was here for a little bit, not for long though. He says Bryceton is doing well concidering it all." "I hope he'll be OK...I can't believe anyone would want to hurt a kid like him," I answer thinking of the five year old kid as my options of adoption sweeps over me, "Where's Luke?" "With Bo...they finally got him out of the ER," Daisy sighs and my heart aches tightly as her bluish brown eyes detect bad news, "he lies in a deep coma...they are unsure of he will ever wake up...his chance of survival lies on him waking up." Tears flow from her eyes through the tight restraints that she held to fight for her strength. Slowly I pat her hand trying to find my strength to give to her but all I can say, "It all lies in the good Lord above now...he has his plans. We need to turn to him to make sure Bo wakes up." "I know," she sighs before looking up at me, "I can go get Luke for you...Frank says he refuses to leave Bo's side unless me or Cooter are there for Bo...just like last time when Bo was here." "Could you please?" I ask and she nods as she slowly stands up to leave the room. My mind runs within me full of concern, fear, pain, and anger that I never felt so strong in my life. A hard bolt of reality hits me that I am loosing my nephew without a chance to see him again, to tell him thank-you or good bye. My heart swells within me at the thought of loosing my youngest, the one that needed me more than anyone else did, the one that made me feel important, the one I found myself being too protective of; dying with little chance of survival. Ever since I woke up I had been swept with joy that I am alive, that I once again can live in freedom of my family at the farm, that Bryceton is going to be OK and that he for once in his lifetime will know life without torture and pain, but never did I stop to realize that I could easily loose my own nephew. Tears swell in my eyes and before I can fight them back a flood breaks loose down my aged cheeks and soaking into my thick beard and mustach. After a long moment I am startled by the door slowly opening and I quickly rub at my cheeks to dry my tears to fight more tears back as I see Luke slowly and stiffly walks into the room. His own tears show through his reddened eyes though he fights to hold them back. "Hi," he finally says as he reaches me, half way looking at the floor and half way looking at me, "how are things goin'?" "Could be better, but I'm not complaining," I force a smile for my nephew who only takes a chair. "I'm sorry," he finally says after a long eery moment of silence that had drifted between us, "I shouldn't have been that naive to believe you were dead...it was just so real. Bo tried tellin' me it wasn't you last month in the hospital, sayin' somethin' was different, but I wouldn't believe him. And I should have came up to say hi sooner, but -" "No need for any apologies Lukas...none of this is your fault or anyone's other than Drake. I know you won't believe that, but I want you too, I don't want you to feel any guilt, for you should not and have no reason to feel guilty for any of this; you did all that you could. Of what I have heard thus far, you kept the farm and the family up and running...I am very proud of you Lukas...very proud," I smile at him and he looks questionally at me, "never forget that...you have done so much to make me proud. What Daisy said, just adds to that. And second of all, you should never apologize for not being here to be with Bo. Bo needs you to be there for him, now as he always has needed you. I am glad that you were there with Bo. As Daisy put it, if not for you, who knows where he'd be now if you weren't there for him and had patience with him." "Not all that patient," he sighs looking at me, "I said a lot of things I shouldn't have said nor meant that lead to this and I haven't said-" "Look...Bo requires a lot of patience at times...I know this and so do you...it isn't always easy to keep. But the one thing Bo is...is forgiving, especialy of you, Lukas," I smile at him, remembering old times, "he looks up to you and I highly doubt that there is anything you could do that he wouldn't forgive you of. You are being too hard on yourself...none of the blame goes on you...so relax and be yourself." "I'll try," he sighs looking around, "be easier if he were to wake up at least...he don't show any sign of improving." "You just need to have faith in Bo and in the good Lord above, things will work out," I force another smile on him. "Yeah," he says looking at me, his sky blue eyes show a debate of something going on in him, "So are you going to adopt Bryce?" "Ah you've heard...from Cooter I take it," I sigh detecting his unapproval in his eyes, "he is a great kid who needs loving and care for...a good home to live at." "Doesn't mean you got to adopt him! There are others out there that would make just as great of a home as you do!" he snaps and anger flares in his eyes. "I know, but - " I cut myself off, "I take it you don't agree with me taking him in...why not? You met the kid...who couldn't or wouldn't love him enough to take him in?" "Yeah he's a loveable kid and he does deserve a great and loving home, but why ours, Jesse? I personally would admit you'd make the perfect dad for him, but that's not what Bo -" he cuts himself off, aware of him almost letting something out. "Of what Bo? What Luke?" I ask patiently as I seek the fire dancing in his sky blue eyes. "Of what Bo needs," he finally answers, letting out a large sigh of either regret or relief, "look I know you want the kid and you will do what you want to do, and I'll be happy for you both. But that isn't what Bo needs and that is what I've been looking out for the past year." "What does Bo need?" I ask. "He needs you...that's what he needs, he needs you and your attention without having a kid to get in the way," he says, "I don't need to be rude or selfish, but ever since Bo found who everyone thought was you dead, he hasn't been the same person...he's been stuck in that shell of his over a year now without caring what happens to him! Not to mention the nightmares it all has given him and his asthma worsening. Bryceton is a great kid, but Bo needs you and your attention." Silence quickly comes into the room as all that he has said clogs my head and forces tears to my eyes. "He's been in that shell for that long?" is all I can ask. "Yes...he was very much tramatized by seeing you dead covered in your blood," he says without any sarcasm, "it is something you don't just forget or ever will, especially since that was the first dead person he's seen. I am not saying you shouldn't adopt Bryceton, because Bryceton needs you and I'd be selfish by saying not to adopt him, I'm just sayin' Bo needs you...he always have and perhaps always will." "I know," I find myself saying, "but so does Bryceton and I can be there for the both of them. I can't just abandon Bryceton even for Bo, not after all he's went through." "That's fine, but be sure it's for the right reason and not just because you feel bad for him," Luke says, "I know you love him and you'll make a great dad to him." "Thanks," I say as silence intrudes more permitedly than before as we are all left thinking of what had happened.

Nods at Daney as she walks up to the bar taking everyone in that crowds around the bar. "That is very thoughtful of you Val," Kristy smiles at Val and back to Daney, "I'll take a nice cold soda for now." "Thank-you," Kristy says as the cup of iced soda is set in front of her, "so what all is goin' on with y'all?"

~LUKE DUKE~ My heart races within me as each passing second that passes by seems to last a life time as I follow Bo's doctor down the long brightly lit hall way. Images flash clearly in my mind of how bad Bo will look when I finally enter his room to what the future will hold. My mind flashes from thought to thought, to Jesse thinking of adopting Bryceton to how Bo will handle it if he does adopt. I sigh tiredly as I listen to several doctors' names or nurses' names being called over the intercom to break my thoughts of adoption and of Bo for a brief second. "Here's his room," his doctor says as he stops abruptly by a closed door and I stop just before running into him, "it looks worse than what it really is-" "Don't lie to me!" I snap at him, releasing some of my anger upon him, "Y'all doctors say that all the time and for what? If it looks bad, then it is bad enough! Bo being trapped in that room there means it is bad...especially when he won't awaken!" For a long moment he stares at me in shock before he dares to speak again, "Yes, you're right...I'm sorry Mr. Duke, they's just words of comfort," he pauses in thought, "though I am sure there isn't much of anything I can do or say to help comfort you...at least until he is out of the woods. He just needs to wake up and we should know for sure of his chances." He smiles apologetically at me before he turns and walks back down the brightly lit hall and I sigh in guilt at leashing my anger out on him. Taking a deep breath I take Bo's cold door handle and slowly begin to open it with images of how bad Bo could look. Silently I pray as I walk into his chilly room to find his room to hold two beds, though the far bed is the only one that lies occupied. Silently I walk up to his bed listening to his monitors beeping un-regularly along with the IVs that slowly drip into him, echoing off the hollow walls. Walking around the curtian that seperates the empty bed from his I gasp in surprise at the sight of his swollen and bruised face that holds several cuts implied upon it to the large air tube that lies down his throat and into his nose for help with breathing. My heart swells up in fear as tears sting my eyes at his poor condition as I take in his still and bruised body to his freshly plastered right arm. "Hi Bo," I force myself to say as I bring myself out of shock enough to take a seat next him and I find myself covering his left swollen and bruised hand that lies upon his stomach with mine for comfort, "I'm here Bo...I'm right here." Tears sting my eyes, forcing a couple to run down my face as all I get for a responce is his irratating beeping of the machines and the dripping of his IVs. Silently I once more pray for his safety, for him to wake up and to be able to hug him once again, to tell him truthfully that everything will be OK. "Please wake up Bo...I'm beggin' you, please wake up! I can't afford to loose you, I refuse to loose you," I sigh as I wipe my cheeks harshly to rid of the tears, fighting to remain strong for my cousin, "they say you have a large chance of dying, but a little better chance at waking up. You got to fight this, Bo, and win this battle, for me, but for yourself. You can do it, Bo...I am here for you...I will always be here for you." Tears once again run down my face, but this time in an unstoppable flood as the realization comes clear to me, that I may loose my cousin, that he may not be strong enough to fight it, to win it. "I'm sorry Bo...for saying what I did that day we got into that fight and you ran off. If I hadn't been so self centered and if I was thinking of you and not said what I did, you wouldn't have ran off and see what you did...to go through what they put you through with chasing you and shooting you. You wouldn't have gone through all this pain...you wouldn't be lying there with a chance of never waking up if I hadn't said what I said. I should have gotten you out of this...should have protected you like I use to do before I ran off to war. I failed you Bo and I am so sorry," I pause as I watch him lie silently in bed for a long moment, "you are more like a brother to me...my best friend and I failed you; I failed my best friend. You mean so much to me Bo...I can't loose you, I just can't. Please wake up." "This isn't your fault no matter how much you would like to blame yourself...it isn't your fault," I jump in shock at another man talking to me from behind and I turn around to find Frank Mills standing behind me and I embarrassingly wipe my tears away, "Drake would find some way to do what he did to him...I mean Drake knows he is the one that walked in and found Jesse...or the so called Jesse dead. It wouldn't be long until he got paranoid about him and had him shot off and killed...this way Bo at least could fight." "Yeah," I answer numbly turning back to look at Bo, "I just have said some harsh things to him...from making him go back and check on Jesse to the fight we had. If he dies, I would never forgive myself...even if techniquely it isn't my fault." "I know the feelin'," he half way smiles at me and he watches Bo for a moment, "though with the good Lord's blessing he could walk out of this...you just need to have faith in Him." "Now you sound like Uncle Jesse," I smile at him, "I haven't even gone to see him yet...been too worried about Bo to even leave the waiting room." "Daisy says he's been askin' for ya...though understands with the bond you two seem to have and all," he shrugs, "I'm sure Bo wouldn't mind if you were to leave to visit Jesse." "Perhaps in a bit when Daisy or Cooter wants to stop by...I don't feel comfortable leaving him alone yet...call me paraniod," I answer. "Not paranoid...worried is more like it and you have every right to feel the way you do," he pauses for a long moment, "I just dropped by to say thanks for the help...your help got us here with Drake arrested. I am going to transfer Drake out of here with most of my men, a few of my men will stay a while for a few days...so they'll be around." "Thank-you...for everything," I smile at him as I watch him walk to the door. "You bet," he smiles back at me before disappearing behind the door and I go back to watching Bo lie silently upon the bed.

THank-you Daney.

~FRANK MILLS~ Exhaustion sweeps through me as my anger seems to accelarate within me as Bryceton continues to answer my agents' questions. I watch as he slowly answers the questions he is given and notice how alert and aware he is as well as how helpful he wants to be. I sigh fighting for answers to questions that I know will never be answered; how could anyone hurt such a kind and caring cute little boy...or anyone for that matter? "You don't seem to be autistic," Keifer finally comments half way to himself and half way out loud after the questioning comes to a halt and an long thick air of silence enteres the room. As everyone looks at him he continues, "Well what I have heard of autistic children...they don't seem to respond or comprehend others...or talk that much. I mean Bryce seems alert and aware of what is going on as - " "I'm not autistic," the boy finally cuts in glaring at me with his soft greenish brown eyes, "that was Drake's explanation to everyone of why I was different...to label me as a retard and gather pitty at the same time. He actually got money off of other's pity towards me...by saying he don't have the money to send me to the right school and what not. I may be slow due to being born early, but I ain't no retard! I acted like to satisfy him...if not he'd put me through a lot worse than that!" "Smart thinkin'," Keifer smiles friendly down at him and Bryceton looks around the room at one man to another. "Thank-you," Bryceton finally responds after letting a brief moment of silence to come between us, "for arresting Drake and his men...before they hurt anyone else...or killed anyone else. He woulda killed Bo if not for Uncle Jesse and perhaps Uncle Jesse if not for you. Thank-you." "It's our job," I smile at him, "wish we coulda stopped him sooner." "You did a great job, don't doubt it," he smiles weakly at me before silence enters the room, "how's Uncle Jesse?" "Keifer you inform him on Jesse, I need to go out and talk to the sheriff," I sigh looking around the room, "I'll talk to you later Bryceton, get feeling better." "Yes sir," he smiles at me before I slowly walk out of the room closing the door behind me.

~LUKE DUKE~ Fear and anger continue to gnaw angrily within me as I stare blankly at an month old sports magazine that I had found sitting upon the end table besides me. Tears continue to threaten to fall through the dam I had built to block the tears of the fear, sorrow, and anger that thrashes around within me. Staring at a picture of a baseball player my mind is fixated on Bo, the scene of Drake holding him on the porch plays clearly over and over within me. "Damn it," I utter in impatience as I stare up at the clock to find it to be another hour since they had came out with Jesse's out come. Angrily I throw the newspaper down upon the hard wooden end table to glare around the small waiting room that remains a third full of visiters or mourners. "How you holdin' up?" asks a familiar voice and I turn around to find Cooter standing there before taking a seat next to me. "I'm holdin' I guess," I sigh covering my face once more in my hands before looking up a moment later, "I'd be a lot better if they'd actually come out and say something...well maybe I wouldn't. I don't know. Them keeping him back there makes me think he's dead while they are working up the courage to come out and face us with it." "Naw if he was dead they'd come out and say it...get it over with," Cooter says putting a comforting hand on my back, "besides, Bo's tough...he'll fight it...tough and stubborn. You know Bo...there is no way he'd die without fighting with knowledge that is what Drake wants. Just the thought of Drake wanting him dead will make him fight to remain a live just to spite Drake." "Well what if he isn't tough enough? What if his fight wasn't enough?" I ask looking at him just as a tear breaks through my dam to trail down my right cheek, "I can't stand to loose him." "I know...but if it is his time, then it is his time," Cooter shrugs. "Yeah," I answer silently while wiping my face to allow a long moment of silence to join our conversation before asking, "How's Bryceton?" "Talkative...talking to him you'd think that nothing ever happened or that he had to put up with all that he had to," he smiles, "I mean he's hurt, yes, but he looks on the positive side. That kid is something else." "What is it?" I ask after a moment silence and I force myself to look at him. "What's what?" he asks trying to act innocent. "You are hiding something from me and you know it!" I snap. He sighs as he looks up to watch a grieving young woman begin to pace the floor a few feet away. "Bryceton says that Frank and the FBI is tryin' to persuade Jesse to adopt Bryceton," he finally answers looking back at me, "Bryce is very hopeful that Jesse will become his adopted dad...said that Frank said that Jesse is thinking heavily of adopting him." "Adopt him?" I ask as my mind spins wildly with in me, my heart drops a few notches lower than before in dread, "Damn it!" "What? The kid needs to live in a loving and caring home where someone will actually love and care for him...something he really needs," Cooter sticks up for the kid, "the kid is so loving and caring himself...Jesse and y'all would be perfect for him. He needs it so much, Luke." "I know," I sigh looking at him, no longer caring of the silent tears that slowly streaks my face, "I know Bryceton needs all that...needs Jesse as his father. Jesse would be the greatest for the part that Bryceton needs...I agree with you and would be for it." "But what?" Cooter asks. "But Bo would hate it and you know it. I mean when ...if Bo makes it out of this he'll need Jesse for himself," I sigh fighting for the right words, "Bo needs Jesse...especially after the year and a half he has had...Jesse's attention. You know Bo wouldn't like it at all." "I know," Cooter sighs, "I knew that is what you are getting at too...he'd get over it." "Perhaps," I sigh as silence intrudes once again. "Dukes," calls a husky voice after a long few moments of tense silence to make me jump out of my seat to find his doctor to be around my size with graying black hair. "I'm Bo's doctor, Dr. Nelend," he says and we shake hands to find his to be warm and clammy. "How's my cousin, doctor?" I ask looking him in the eye. "Well at the moment he remains unconsciense...in a coma state trance; I'd be honest with you, we all would know and feel a lot better when and if he awakes," he sighs to pause to glance down at his clip board, "He has suffered a bad concussion- some hit to the head that was pretty hard, he broke three ribs, two puncturing his lungs to make breathing even more difficult or at all for him. His shattered arm only looks worse than before and he has a lot of bruises and cuts that I imagine he had recieved while being held captive...as well as loosing a lot of blood." "Will he be OK? Does he have a chance of waking up?" I ask praying silently for my cousin's health. "As I said, we all would be more comfortable about his health if he woke up," he sighs, "we have came up with that he holds a sixty-five percent chance of waking up or living. He holds the odds at least." "May I see him?" I ask with anxiousness to see my cousin. "One at a time," he sighs motioning me to follow him down the large bright hall way.

~UNCLE JESSE~ "Thanks Mr. Duke," says the medium sized detective with light reddish brown hair as he leans upon the metal railing that lines the end of my bed. His hard cold creamy blue eyes sends chills racing down my back as he glares into me while rubbing a deep long scar that runs up his right lower arm. "Thanks for you time and for your cooperation...you have been through a lot." "Not as much as some," I am slow to respond as I watch most of the agents slowly walk out the door behind the sergeant. "Perhaps, but still a lot," the sergeant sighs, his hard cold eyes seems to soften now that his men have filed out of the room, "I guess I'll leave you to your family now...they have my number if anything else comes up." "OK thanks," I answer stiffly as I watch him slowly and warily walk to the door as if he was an aging man suffering from harsh arthritis. Watching the FBI agent slowly close the door, I finally move in a fight to gain comfortness before giving up in realization that there is no chance of gaining comfortness in an old hospital bed with two IVs running into me and a stiff air tube up my nose. A long moment of silence creeps by before the silence is interrupted by the loud scratchy squeak of an opening door. Stiffly I turn to find Daisy slowly walking in and by the trail of her mascara running down her soft cheeks, I can tell she has been crying. As she forces herself to look up at me, I throw her a smile in my little effort to try to comfort her. "Uncle Jesse," she finally says as she reaches my bed, obvious that she still is fighting back more tears. "What's the tears for?" I ask in attempt to comfort before realizing that I am not the only one in the hospital, "How is everyone else?" "Bryceton I guess should be ok by the sound of things," she pauses to take me in for a long moment, "Bo is still in the ER." "Things will work out, just like the good Lord plans," I finally come up with an answer and she only nods before rubbing her cheeks harshly. "How you feel?" she finally asks sitting down besides my bed. "Sore and stiff, but that is about it," I shrug, "it could be worse and I am thankful that it isn't. They say I'll be out within a week or so." "Yeah," she answers as she glances up at the blank wall that lies a few feet from the foot of my bed, "we thought you were dead...that is why no one looked or helped you out before." I look at her for a long moment thinking of her last sentence that she had spoken as if by apology. "Yeah Bo said somethin' of y'all thinkin' I was dead," I shrug thinking of the past, "Drake is something else that is for sure...something I hope is put away for a very long time! . . .Well it wasn't me." "I guess not," Daisy says almost numbly and for a moment I pat her hand, trying to tell her it is ok. Though as she glances up, I see the emotional pain rolling through her dark bluish brown eyes, pain that says it isn't all of my death that is bothering her. "What else is wrong?" I finally ask, "I can tell it isn't just me here that is bugging you or what had happened back there by the cabin." Abruptly she glances back at me for a long moment before answering, "This isn't the time to be talkin' of that...you should get better, rest and regain your strength." "No!" I say too harshly and unmeantfully, "I mean, I want to know what happened while I was gone...what happened to Bo...well everyone, but Bo...he seems," I pause, "seems so withdrawn. It could be Drake at the time, but the pain he was in was obvious it's been awhile, then the broken arm and all that. I want to know what happened...everything and now." "Yes sir," she says, her voice sounding appologetically before she slowly begins to tell what all had happened, starting from the day they went to the town picnic and me staying home sick. I listen sincerely as she continues to explain Bo's nightmares and the shell he has hid himself in since he found me supposedly shot to death on the living room floor. Anger explodes through me as she explains of the boys' arguement that led Bo to witness Drake killing another man, the chase they sent on Bo, to Luke finding Bo almost dead on the farm's front lawn. "They musta been keeping tabs on Bo in the hospital because when he was released, they tried a shot on him, but missed and got Luke, or got Luke to get to Bo. One or the other. Luke told Bo to run for it, which he did only after a long moment of persuading...that was the last we saw of him 'til now." Silence fills the room for a long moment as my mind runs wildly within me and I begin to say a silent prayer for Bo and for Bryceton. "You mean he has been that. . .that distant for that long?" I finally ask, "I mean when they brought him in, he was really withdrawn, I just figured it was from Drake kidnapping him." "Ever since he saw you lying dead on the living room floor," she answers looking up at me, "has driven Luke in frusteration and worry over the year and a half, he's tried everything. He feels so guilty about it all...the fight only increased that all. The more he sees Bo the more he refuses to forgive himself or to see that it wasn't him...though through it all he was strong. He held Bo up...even if he hasn't or doesnt' see that. Luke kept the farm going as it was before you left and was there for everyone." "Sounds like Luke," I finally answer, "how is he?" "Waiting for word on Bo...he refuses to leave until he hears it...just like he refused to leave when Bo was here for that length of time after thier arguement," she answers, "Bo's asthma has worsened...they learned that when Luke tricked Bo into going to town and visited Applebee's office a couple of days before thier arguement." "Worsened? Damn," I utter out loud, "I never could imagine it getting worse than what it was before all this." "Yeah...I know. His nightmares seemed to only worsen it by the night," she answers silently. My heart tightens in grief at the thought of my nephew's asthma getting any worse and at the thought of what all this had affect on it. I sigh looking up at her as a deep long silence interrupts between us. "They want me to adopt Bryceton," I finally interrupt the long silence. "They?" she asks glaring up at me with emotionless eyes, "Adopt Bryceton?" "The FBI...Frank Mills more like it," I answer looking up at her, trying to see what she thinks, but she blocks her emotions heavily now, "he says that Bryceton talked heavily of me when they talked to him...that it was me that protected him from his father...all I did, is try to. But Mills says it would be easier if I were to adopt him since he already knows and seems to like me so well than to go to foster homes and what not." "Are you?" she asks continueing to look at me, "Do you want to adopt him?" "He's had a hard life," I answer as if to answer her question. "That is no reason to adopt anyone," she snaps at me, "pity leaves you nowhere...you should adopt him because you want to adopt him, because you love him, not because you feel sorry for him or that he has had a hard life." "I know," I sigh thinking of what my other children would think, "What would you think of if I did adopt Bryceton?" "I think you would make a perfect dad for him, that you would love him and take care of him like no one else has ever done or ever will do," she answers, "I think that it has to be up to you and not what I think or Bo or Luke. It is your decision." "I know...but I want your input," I answer, "I am seriously thinking of adopting him and yes it is up to me, my decision, but I also want your imput." She looks at me for a long while before answering, "I think it would be good for the both of you."

~CHAPTER EIGHT~ Staring blankly into the ugly peach cream colored wall that hangs hollowily across the room from where I sit in the large waiting room, the rhythmatic ticking of the clock only adds agitation to the fear, anger, and frusteration that eats livily within me. I sigh tiredly as I hide my tear stained face into the palms of my hands as my mind runs wildly within me, with clear thoughts and images of the past year and a half to what I had found out only a couple of hours ago. Ever since I had recieved the frantic phone call from Bo over a year and a half ago, I had accepted the hard truth of Jesse's death, accepting that it was a harsh way to leave this world, but it was his time to go. I accepted Jesse's tragic death in knowledge that I didn't have a choice, but to accept it and to move on. I knew I had to be strong if the farm had any hope of living and growing as Jesse would want it to. But most of all, I knew I had to be strong for Daisy and Bo, Bo needed my comfort, my strength in knowledge that I was there, even if he had trapped himself within the thick shell. I feel myself tense up in surprise at feeling a soft gentle touch of reassurance land on my shoulder and I slowly force myself to look up to find Daisy sitting next to me. "He...they'll be ok," she finally says wiping her tears away. "Maybe," I sigh looking around at the half filled waiting room, "but things will never be the same...Drake came here and wrecked what once was, scarring them for life, mentally and perhaps physically." Tears boil up once again in my eyes and I push them away in my own pride as I fight back my emotions. "Luke," she finally sighs, "You have been there for me when I needed you the most, but what is most important, is that you were there for Bo no matter how frusterated he may have gotten you. You held us together and you are the one that helped the farm stay together...thank-you. You are a great guy all around, but you also deserve to show your emotions, to let your guard down once in awhile." "Maybe," I answer once again as I feel the shock returning to me at thinking of seeing my Uncle Jesse again, of picturing him tackling Drake who had held Bo at gun point. My imagination plays wildly within me at all that Drake could have done to him and the boy. "I can't believe that anyone would even think of hurting Jesse or Bo...Bo was right." "He was right? About what?" Daisy asks watching a few FBI men begin to walk around. "In the hospital, when he was here and I was here to look out after him," I sigh, "he opened up a little to me and I ruined it by doubting him. He said it wasn't Uncle Jesse there that he saw, said after thinkin' of it there was a couple of differences, but I had to be the one that doubted him, tellin' him it was wishful thinkin' or something like that. But he was the one that said it wasn't him there and he was right." Silence grows between us as Frank Mills and a few men are ushered down the hall way and I sigh wondering where they may be going. "You worry too much Luke," Cooter finally breaks in besides me, "anyone would have said that to Bo if he were to say that to anyone else...everyone saw Jesse's face at the funeral, and they all saw Jesse, not some jackass dressed to be him. Don't blame yourself Luke...as Daisy said, if it wasn't for you the farm wouldn't be a live and growing as it is now nor would Bo ever open up to anyone." "He may not either," I shove back at him as I stand up, "I can gaurantee you that just 'cause they found Uncle Jesse, that it won't bring him out of it, or ever will. He's forever scarred by seeing Jesse there, to being shot, to being locked up in that room! He will never the be the Bo we all once knew!" Slowly I walk to the window and stare down at the few cars that drive by on the dirt road and tears begin to break through the dam I had created to block them back. I sigh warily no longer caring if anyone sees the tears trailing down my face as the silence continues to grow between us. "Dukes," a gruff male's voice finally calls out and I turn around to find a small doctor in his fifties wearing thin rimmed glasses and a thin layer of graying white hair. Quickly we all gather around him, praying for some good news on Bo and Jesse. "I am Jesse's doctor, Dr. Lynerly." "How is he doc?" Cooter finally asks through the odd silence that had grew between us. "Jesse seems to be a lucky man who has the good Lord's blessing, seeing how he is a live and the condition that he is in taking in account his age and the man that had held him," he sighs glancing down at his clipboard of papers, "Jesse has suffered a bad concussion, two of his ribs are broken while three more are cracked which has scratched up his lungs, other than that a few harsh bruises and cuts. He should be good and ready to be released from the hospital within a few days." Silence once again grows within us as we look at one another for a long while. "What about Bo?" I finally speak up. "Or the kid?" Cooter follows my question. "Bo is still in the ER and what I heard, is still deep into unconciousness," he sighs, "he has another doctor who will fill you all in when he is done with Bo in the ER. As for Bryceton, the kid has been through a lot within the five years he has been alive...very obvious that he was abused on a daily routine. His condition is pretty much similar to Jesse's, if not a little worse. That is about all I know about him...I think he is out of the ER as well, but he on the pediatric floor, they'd be able to say more on his condition." "Thanks," Cooter answers. "Can we see Jesse?" Daisy finally asks with tears trailing down her face. "One at a time," he answers looking around for volunteers. "You go," I tell Daisy who looks at me questionably, "I'll stay here and wait for word on Bo." She nods before she follows the doctor down the hall for a while before I return to the window to glare down at the empty dusty dirt road.

~LUKE DUKE~ "Damn," I utter silently to myself as I am filled with guilt as I watch Bo being held at gun point up on the hight wooden porch of the cabin. His baby blue eyes are filled with great pain as tears swell within them to make clear paths of tears down his bruised and cut up face. "You can say that again," Donnell says silently besides me as explosion of gun fire lets loose in the back of the cabin, "Drake won't let us out alive...we're all dead by morning...or perhaps an hour or so." "Think positive," I argue as I glance ahead as Frank lets off a round of gun fire on several of Drake's men and I sigh in a bit of relief as a couple of them let out yells of pain as bullets make deadly entries within their chests. "Two down." "Think positive," Donnell mocks with a roll of his dark brown, almost black eyes, "I started out this profession thinkin' positive, but throughout the years I have found that things seldom turn out for the positive." I sigh standing up from kneeling down besides the injured agent and watch him warily as he holds the blood stained handkerchief to his wound. My heart races within me in fear, anger, and frusteration of helplessness as I force my way up to where Frank stands with a few more agents to recieve a hateful glare from Frank's hard clear blue eyes. "Stay back Duke, or you are liable to recieve one of thier slugs," he threatens harshly. "Wouldn't be the first," I answer and he glares angrily at me for arguing with him, "be angry all you want, but I refuse to stand back there helplessly watching him torture Bo! I came here to help him...even called you to help out...not for you to shove me back to watch! Damn it Frank...he's my cousin, my best friend! I am not about to do NOTHING to help him...this should be MY fight, not yours. To you, Bo is just another victim, but to me he is MY cousin and MY best friend!" He glares coldly at me and is clear that he is fighting whether to argue with me more or not, but instead says, "Fine, but if you get shot standing there, don't come cryin' to me!" "Wouldn't go cryin' to you anyways," I grunt out, "tell me what needs to be done, I'll do it." "Benton," Frank snaps and an young skinny agent around my heigth with light brown skin turns from his stance, "hand him a gun." Frank watches as the young agent hands me a well known gun before saying, "fight." Once again silence splits between us as the metal hand gun sits coldly in my head as flash backs of war flashes in my eyes. Fear and regret flows within me at the thought of having to shoot at antoher person...perhaps killing antoher person. Quickly, my thoughts are interrupted as Bo yells shriekingly out in harsh pain and great fear and I look up in time to see Drake thrashing Bo's shattered right arm harshly into the wooden pole until the plastered cast falls upon the wooden porch to leave Bo's shattered arm is revealed. My stomach churns as the sight of Bo's black bruised arm that holds a few cuts, but from here lies clearly shattered bone. Tears streak Bo's bruised face clearly now as he fights back yelling out in pain as Drake hits it a couple more times against the pole. Emotions swirl wildly within me as the gun lies heavy in my right hand as I realize that even with the gun, I am just as helpless as I was without it. I gasp in anger as Drake yanks Bo closer to him by yanking his hair to return the stance with his gun tightly squeezed upon Bo's right temple as his left hand reaches over Bo's chest to tightly clench upon Bo's shattered arm. "This town is as good as mine," he laughs above the gun fire as he sets his predator trained eyes upon the line of FBI men to his men as if taking count of all he has and all the FBI has left standing. "We're gonna have to shoot Drake," Frank says suddenly looking at his men. "Don't you even think it!" I yell glaring at him as my heart swells with protectiveness of Bo, with my care of my cousin, "You shoot him or even at him he'll for sure kill Bo!" "We all are as good as dead if we shoot around him," Frank explains trying to remain calm, "but if we kill him, his gang of men will be reeled into helplessness...this all has to do with Drake. Without Drake, they all don't stand a chance and they know that." "I don't care...you can't shoot at Drake, I can't let you harm my cousin like that," I say as tears sting my eyes as the truth of his words shoot bullets into my heart at thinking of watching him kill Bo, of watching Bo die watching me, looking at me for help, "I can't fail Bo that way, no...there has to be another way." "If you think of one in a second, I'll go with it," Frank says, "But if not...I start shooting." I stare at him blankly as I fight for answers and in my time of need come up empty on any solutions to save my couisn. I glance up at Bo as he heaves painfully for air while his baby blue eyes full of pain and fear stares at me, demanding me to help as I always have been able to do in the past. "I. . .I can't think," I finally say, "but you can't just shoot knowing it'd kill Bo...someone who doesn't deserve it, he didn't do nothing wrong!" "I know," he sighs, "but if not, we all could wind up dead and him...none of us don't have a chance of returning home if Drake is still alive. Drake is the key, the key we all have been shooting around, but we can't shoot around him any more." My heart stops as I feel my own tears set in my eyes while I watch Frank secretly aim his gun at Drake in hope of getting Drake without Bo. I pray silently and quickly for Bo's safety, relying on faith, knowing that faith is all I have now to rely on for my cousin's safety. As if by answering my prayers, the old wooden door is thrown open and my heart is stopped in great surprise of amazement as I see Uncle Jesse standing warily and tiredly in torn overalls and shirts, his face bruised and cut up arms. "Uncle Jesse," I say softly as I see what he plans to do, by sneaking up on Drake, "don't shoot." Frank just shakes his head. My mind wonders from the past year and a half ago of the funeral we all had attended, the year and a half Bo had been plagued into a deep shell of mourning for the dead Uncle Jesse to the night in the hospital when he was determined that Uncle Jesse was alive...that the Jesse on the floor that day couldn't have been the real Uncle Jesse. Chills race up and down my body at the sight of Uncle Jesse, making anger level over anger at the thought of anyone hurting Uncle Jesse at it looks like they did. "Uncle Jesse," Bryceton says in a whisper behind us, though loud enough for us to hear. My heart races as Jesse quickly scans through us for a long moment before he glares at Bo, his body trembles visibly from the distance from fear and anger. Abruptly Jesse tackles Drake to cause Drake to cuss out violently in anger and hatred as he shoves Bo before landing harshly upon the wooden porch. I gasp in fear as Bo harshly is thrown against the railing before richocheting down the long hard five wooden steps to lie silently still in the dusty dirt ground. My heart stops at seeing his still figure before glancing up to see Uncle Jesse atop of Drake in time to see Jesse throw Drake's gun upon the ground, pinning Drake to the porch. Glancing around, I quickly run past through enemy lines and past the enemy who watches in confusement as gun fire slowly comes to a halt. Reaching Bo I drop harshly to my knees, no longer caring for my own warfare. Holding my breath, I slowly turn him over on his back to check his pulse to find a slow and weak heart beat and him breathing minimally. Unconcious. I sigh taking acount the damage Bo had recieved while being kidnapped, his body seeming to bruised and cut up all over; his right arm is covered in blood that bleeds out quickly, chills race up and down at the sight of his arm. Sirens rings out in the distance and I sigh in relief at hearing Rosco coming, in hope that he is bringing some sort of help. "Luke!" cries a recognizeable voice that I haven't heard in a long time. Looking up I see Uncle Jesse walking to me slowly, pain and fear still etched into his crystal blue eyes. I am surprised to see him a foot a way from me instead of near Drake and glance up to Drake to see Frank and a couple men arresting him with a lot of difficulty. "Uncle Jesse...we thought you-" "I know...Bo told me," he says and we hug for a long moment before we both kneel besides Bo. "Figured as much...he seems to be ok as ok as he can be, just unconcious right now," I sigh and he holds onto my shoulder. "Thank-you Luke," Jesse says as Rosco pulls up with Hogg in the passenger seat and I am relieved to see a couple of ambulances behind him. "I knew how violent Drake was, so I figured I'd be of some help and bring a couple of ambulances along in case," Rosco says stepping out as if by apology, "I had to do something." I watch a couple of ambulance men visit Bryceton with Cooter and a couple of agents who were talking to him about all he can remember. "Thank-you for what?" I sigh, "I didn't do anything." "Then you did more than you realized you done," Jesse sighs placing a caring hand on Bo's forehead, "the way Bo talked, you did everything...kept the farm together after I so called died. You were there for him...he needs you." "I don't know how he gets that...if I did more, we wouldn't be here...well he wouldn't be at least," I sigh filled with guilt. "You need to give yourself with more credit...we all could do something different, whether we should have or not, is another story," Jesse displays some more wisdom, "you were there and that is what counts...you helped him more than you realize, you just need to talk to him." I sigh looking down at him and for the first time realize that I once again have tears in my eyes for silence to intrude between us. I glance up at Jesse fighting with what to say only for the silence to be interrupted by a rupture of hoarse, force, and painful coughing as Bo awakes to show his pained blue eyes as he gasps for air. "I...can't...breathe," he gasps as a couple paramedics reach him and he grunts to argue as the slowly help him upon the stretcher to place an air masks upon his mouth and nose. "We'll need you to come with us sir," one says to Jesse, "can you walk? If not we have-" "I'll walk," Jesse says stubbornly walking over to Bo's left side, "Things will work out Lukas," Jesse finishes up as they help him walk to the ambulance. I sigh watching them leave me behind and I look around at the busy agents running around. "C'mon Luke," Rosco comes from behind, "I'll lend ya a ride to the hospital if ya wish...we can call Daisy on the CB." I flash a small smile at Rosco in gratitude, "Thanks sheriff," I answer and follow him to his car.

~UNCLE JESSE~ Anger and frusterations boils harshly through me toward Drake and his men for all that he has done to Bryceton and now to Bo. If only I had attempted to make some kind of struggle with them, my boys would have known the truth about the awful man and his evil companions; knowing enough to leave them be. My imagination plays lividly within me of all the possibilities that could be happening outside as the recognizeable sounds of gun fire ricochets out side the cabin's walls. Emotions rage within me like an angry river as pictures and thoughts of them killing Bryce and Bo, or hurting them any worse than what they already done. "You've grown quiet old man," the large guard smiles at me from his post, knowing he now holds the power over me once again. At least with Bo here, they hadn't tried anything with me, because each time they tried Bo would attack them full of anger and hatred, not caring if he got hurt or not. "You will too one day," I remark, "when you begin to face the concequences of your horrible actions." The tall muscular man tenses his sharp muscles up his arm to display an array of artwork winding up and around his upper bare arms. "You only wish old man," he laughs at me as the door is thrown open and a smaller and older man walks in with his gun drawn. "C'mon Raymond," the new intruder says in an order, "we need your help outside...the old man ain't goin' no where...the place is surrounded." The man the guy called Raymond slowly and stiffly stands up from his post, glaring at me as if to say this isn't over. I watch with a hint of relief as they slam the door shut behind them and listen to thier heavily foot steps tromp out the main area to either the front or the back door, another door slams shuts. My heart races quickly within me as I stare blankly through the dark room that has been my prison for over a year if not more now. Silently I say a long prayer for my safety as well as Bo's and Bryceton's safety out of this evil place, only to realize that through time I had given up hope of ever going home. Abruptly I my prayers are drawn short as a couple more bullets are shot about outside, followed by a few yells of great pain. I sigh in relief at not recognizing any of the cries of pain as being neither of Bryceton or Bo. Listening to the war unfold outside, my mind focuses on Bo, from the day he stumbled here so full of pain and shell shocked with fear of Luke's death. I sigh with regret and grief at the thought of Luke's death, I had tried to remain calm and confident of Luke being OK through being shot, but part of me agrees with Bo of Luke being dead. My heart seems to stop at the thought of loosing Luke to those evil men, of loosing anyone to them. The few days that Bo had been here, the more time went on, the more he seemed sewn shut in the deep, un breakable shell he seemed to have enclosed himself in. Anxiety and fear flows through me with anger at the thought of never seeing Bo come out of the shell he seemed to close himself in, at the thought of life never returning back to normal. "If only I hadn't stepped in that day long ago when I had witnessed Drake nearly beat the young child to death, Bryceton, we all wouldn't be here, awaiting for death to come swallow us whole." I think silently to send chills racing up and down my back filled with a sense of guilt mixed with the sense of relief at doing what I knew was right. "Do something old man," I utter to myself as I begin to feel even more frusterated at being closed in here while the war continues outside. Though instead of moving, I sit silently upon the old torn bed as my thoughts instant turn from the past few days of witnessing my nephew being beat up with anything that Drake thought up of until Bo is slowly swept away in an ocean of unconciousness to the past. To the past where life was normal, where Luke and Bo working on their old car while I worked in the fields or in the kitchen with Daisy. Or perhaps all the times of helping Bo and Luke escape from the crooked law or sitting in the Boar's Nest while Daisy takes our orders and Hogg sits off to the right smoking his cigar with Rosco. Tears sting my eyes at the thought of the simple life I once lived, of the daily routine I once went through without complaint...everything so simple. Now I would do about anything to return to my simple life I once loved, being home with my family, and working on the farm I had inheridited. Though I highly doubt that I will ever again be able to feed my animals or step upon a freshly harvisted field or smell one of Daisy's home made apple pie. Anger piles atop of anger toward Drake for taking me away from my family, from the life I loved to be imprision in this dark dreadful place where all the hope I once had slowly leaked away from me with each slap I recieved and with watching Bryceton and now Bo being tortured and beaten. "Strengthen up old man," I say to myself once again, "these tears won't get you no where." Once again my thoughts and visions are sent to an abrupt halt as loud shrieking cry of harsh pain and pure fear cuts through the spitting gun fire that continues to fire outside the wooden walls that entrap me. My heart comes to a quick painful stop at hearing Bo cry out so loud, his cry is filled with heart rippling pain. Chills race up and down my body as Bo becomes silent, but his piercing scream of pain and fear continues to echo in my head and in my heart. Fear increases within me as my imaginations runs wild of all that they are doing to him outside...of Bo falling slowly to the ground due to a deadly bullet or worse! Thinking of worse I rush to my feet to send an uncomfortable sting through my feet, ignoring the sting I rush to the wooden door and am surprised as I push it open. Glaring through the neatly laid living room and dinning room that they also made all thier bed rooms, I crouch down glancing through the windows. My heart races quickly of fear within me as my mind fumbles with answers of what to do while tears of grief sting my eyes, grief of the pain that Bo has taken in. Glancing to the front door I see Drake's expensive Stetson standing tall and pround and sigh in acknowledgement that Bo would be with him. Slowly I move to the wooden door while a stray bullet shatters through the small window next to me to send me to a dead halt. Gaining back the little strength that I hold I tightly holding onto the cold metla door handle and shove it open, knowing that there is no better time like the present. I gasp in surprise as I see Luke and Cooter standing in the trees behind seveal FBI men who look serious and mean before I look to my left to see Drake smiling evilly as he holds tightly a hold of Bo. My heart tightens painfully as he seems more bruised and cut than when he was dragged out here as well as seeing Bo's right arm free of his cast to display the dark black bruise that his arm swells in with several large cuts, from here I can tell the extent of the shattered bone that lies within the skin. Noticing Drake's attention a hold on the FBI, I sigh knowing that this is the only chance I have at attacking Drake, and perhaps the only chance at saving Bo. I sigh as I fight for courage to face such an evil man that holds such deadly concequence. Quickly I charge at him, he grunts with an angry hateful suprise as I tackle him to the ground to force him to let go of Bo who is painfully pushed into the hard wooden railing before falling down the five large wooden steps.

~LUKE DUKE~ "He moves and y'all will die," Drake threatens as his large evil hands tightly hold upon the bruised and torn Bo, his gun digging deeply into Bo's already black and blue right temple. Cooter glances at me to Frank before standing still next to us, the tan child with the light brown hair rest still in Cooter's uncomfortable hold on him until Cooter slowly lets go of him. Anger, hatred, and frusteration fills within me, anger toward Drake and his men for even lying a finger upon Bo, hatred at them for seeing the harm they already done to him, and frusteration of being unable to do anything to help. My first reaction was to run after him with some hope of attacking Drake, but Cooter's words echo through my head of me being dead won't help him any. From here I can see Bo's apparent harsh struggle for air as he glares at me for help, his bright blue eyes shine of pain and fear. Slowly my attention on Bo is drawn as Cooter kneels besides the frightened boy who shakes uncontrollably in fear, fear that is apparent is all he knows. "What's your name?" Cooter asks caringly. "Bryceton Shelbon," he answers with uncertainity upon his small voice as his light green eyes glances around in fear as if trying to find comfort where there lies no comfort, "I'm five years old and Drake is my unbearable evil person everyone would say is my dad. He hurt Bo...bad." Tears glimmer in Cooters light brown eyes at hearing the truth come out of the young child's mouth. "It looks like it," Cooter finally says, "but I'm sure the FBI will try their best to stop Drake...I'm Cooter Davenport by the way and the unsociable dark brown haired guy there is Luke Duke, Bo's cousin...protective cousin I should add." "Hi," I fight a smile for his benefit and he only glares up questionable at me as if fighting if he should say something or not. I glance up as Keifer whispers something to Frank and slowly slips behind us. "He's gonna try to join the men in the back," Frank whispers glaring at Bo who slowly begins to fight in pain only for Drake to back hand him across the face with the butt of the gun again, "we are trying to sneak up on them from the back." "Better not get him killed or -" "Or what? We have to try somethin'...it is try it and perhaps die trying, or die doing nothing!" Frank snaps at me, "If you haven't noticed, they aint' about to let us go out of here alive, the kid, you, Cooter to Bo himself. You pick!" "Awright," I finally answer as my mind switches from Bo to Jesse for some reason, fighting for his wisdom that he held so powerfully, wishing I knew what he would do in something like this. "Drake," Frank picks up the enemies' attention, "let's work out a deal...your freedom for Bo." "Don't matter," he laughs hysterically, "you'll never arrest us no matter...so either way I'll have my freedom. My choice, I'd rather go down fighting and have my freedom! Bo and y'all are better off dead!" My heart races in my hatred and anger at the man that lies ahold of Bo as my mind swirls quickly as a whirlwind within me, desperately fighting for answers on how to stop someone as evil and wicked as Drake is. I yelp out in shock at the familiar sound of gun fire not too far off in the distance, the strong smell of gun powder sends my mind racing in flashbacks of all the years I spent in war. Slowly realization hits me that the gun fire is at the back of the cabin where a group of Frank's men were suppose to sit and wait command. "Damn," Frank cusses under his breath and in his creamy blue eyes I see him as well desperately fighting for answers. Drake's two men quickly move off of the wooden porch where they had been perched until Drake had given them farther notice. "Time for y'all to visit y'all's makers and to be judged!" Drake laughs once again forcing more pressure upon Bo who slowly begins to whimpper either out of pain or fear or perhaps both. "Get ready to fire," Frank says, his thick voice coated in fear as they all draw guns upon the two men that hold bigger and stronger guns, "Cooter and Luke, stay back with the kid." I go to argue only for Donnell to shove us both back until he is shot in the back right under his left shoulder. His yell is etched with harsh pain as he goes to his knees, his dark eyes glare at me, demanding me to help his pain to go away. Flash backs of seeing my own men, my friends die in gun fire at war flash inside of me, my war instinct that I thought I left at war, seems to return to me. Slowly I help him down, to sit him against the tree and press my clean handkercheif tightly upon his gun wound as I listen to his painful raspy breathing. "Stay awake Donnell, fight against sleep," I demand in a weak voice as I glance up to find Frank and his men standing continue to fling gun shots at the two standing targets as well as the two men at them, "with pressure to the wound, you should be fine, but you have to fight against sleep...save your strength." "You're the boss," he smiles weakly at me, "though knowing Drake, none of us will make it out of here alive." "Don't talk like that...the good Lord will help us out of here," I answer while giving a short silent prayer, "just watch...have faith." "If you say so," he sighs. "I do," I begin to say before a long painful screech of a cry lets out and I look up to find the taller of the two body gaurds going down with a deadly bullet slug ripped through his chest. I sigh sadly at the sight of another dead body of an enemy as more cries let out back and I pray to be able to hug Bo once again...to see him well again and perhaps return to the daily life of farming once again. My mind seems to go numb in fear and regret at the thought of loosing Bo, either physically or mentally...knowing if by chance Bo does walk out of here alive, he may be scarred inside as well as outside for life. Followed by the hatredly evil ghosts of Drake and his men, beating into unconciesouness as well as what all they have done to him. "No...no." "What?" Donnell finally speaks up from watching the fight. I glance down at him finally realizing that I had said no out loud instead of to myself as I once thought I was. "Never mind...just rest and save your strength," I sigh glancing up at Cooter who sits next to Donnell, holding the kid tightly for comfort to the kid who just watches me with alert green eyes.

~BO DUKE~ "How you feelin' Bo?" Jesse finally asks to break the silence as he sits besides me upon the old torn cot, the young child, five or so old sits on Jesse's lap. I sigh warily at seeing another child sitting on my Uncle's lap, someone that isn't even related and I fight the urge to yell at him to get off his lap. Tensily I shrug my aching shoulders at him as I sit up to force the room to swirl quickly around me in fast circles in a state of dizziness. Pain flashes through my back, chest and my broken arm as well as through my legs. My whole body aches in great pain I have never known before from the beating I had endured before I blacked out from thier harsh beating with fists and boards; of which I just awaken from. My lungs still flame with harsh pain as I fight for air as I fight to clear my blurred vision. "Tell me how you feel," Uncle Jesse says in a half order and I sigh tiredly as I look up at him to find a fresh cut upon his right cheek with dried speckles of blood in his beard. A dark bruise starting to shape around it. "It's not like you could do anything to help," I snap at him in my own anger towards Drake and his men. Who could ever hit or say anything harsh to Uncle Jesse? If only Luke was here, he'd stop him...but what if he's dead? Fresh tears sting my eyes as I think of Luke lying in my arms, blood squirting out in a flood from where he had been shot; his clear intelligently blue eyes filled with pain and fear that I have never seen in them. "I wish I could," he sighs as he throws a caring arm around me and I tense up in pain as I force myself to glance down at my broken arm, the cast holding a thick tear through it. "Let me have a look-see," he finally says and I turn my back against him for him to raise my torn weak blue t-shirt. After a short second of silence I hear him grunt in anger at seeing my back where he had beat me at for a while. "We'll get out here, Bo, then you get some real care." "I don't care," I grunt knowing he was trying to comfort me. "You don't care?" he asks, his eyes mixed with anger and pain. "Not if Luke's dead," I say half way to myself and am shocked to hear myself say it out loud. "You don't know that...he's tough," he says with a half smile. Once again I shrug my aching shoulders as I fight back the tears that threaten to come. "It's OK to cry," Bryceton finally speaks up for the first time since the day I came here, "he makes me cry too...you hurt." I look at him for a long moment, his light greenish brown eyes looks at me with care and the innocence of a child. Silence begins to grow between us as the hard metal chair squeaks as Drake's gaurd moves in his chair as he watches us. Slowly I bring my pained legs in and hug them close to my bruised chest to hide my face into my knees as tears break loose. Emotions of anger, fear, and pain swirls quickly through me to force my heart to swell up with my tears. I gasp in surprise as the large door is aburptly thrown open and I quickly look up with tears running off my cold face to find Drake himself rushing in towards me. I cry out in pain and fear as he grabs me harshly by the back of my neck to force me on my feet and as I am dragged out the door I vaguely hear Uncle Jesse yell something at him. "I shoulda killed you both the day we got you, none of this would have happened!" Drake yells under his breath as several of his men loads large guns in the living room slash kitchen area of the cabin, "Thanks to you we'll have to FBI agents and the whole works...if you only have kept your large mouth shut, we'd all be happy!" I bite my lip in my attempt to cry out in pain as his tight grip tightens to make breathing an even harder task. "We're loaded boss, what now?" asks Brenden as he approaches with Raze, the two guys I first encountered. "Tell the others to surround the place, no one leaves this place alive," Drake threatens, "then you two come join the fun with me on the porch." "Yes sir," they say heading off in different directions to do as they are told to do. Drake cusses violently under his breath as he throws open the front door and the bright haze of dreary gray sky hurts my blurred eyes from being locked in the dark room for so long. After a long moment they slowly adjust and I fight off tears as I force myself to look around as I hear a familiar voice calls out in fear, "Bo!" My heart races in half excitement, relief, pain, and fear at the sight of Luke standing alive with Cooter along with three large men who holds guns out at us. "Yeah...I'm glad you recognize him now Luke," Drake calls out to them as he draws his black hand gun and I yell out in pain as he slams the butt of the gun upon my right cheek before shoving it into my temple, "because if y'all don't drop your guns, I'll pull the trigger and we all know that wouldn't be a pretty sight. Drop your guns!" I watch as Luke orders them to do as they are told frantically as the other two joins us on the porch. "What you want Drake?" Luke calls out. "There ain't nothin' for you to do now that I could possibly want...I got y'all surrounded...and none of you are getting out of here alive," he smiles evilly at us, "and then, we'll have the town all to ourselves." "Drake!" calls the one man I recognize from the hospital, Frank Mills, "Can't we talk this over? Release the kid why don't you...Bo didn't do nothing to you!" Drake laughs evilly before whispering something to Brendon's ear and he disappears into the cabin. "You want the kid don't you?" he laughs once again as Brendon returns with Bryceton and everyone yells out with surprise and anger. "Bryce, you go join those men." Bryceton looks up at me for guidance with his soft green eyes that shows anger, fear, and pain. "Go, they'll help you," I answer trying to be strong for him. "They can try, but they will fail," Drake says as we watch Bryceton walk to Frank and Cooter. Frank talks to Cooter who slowly picks up the kid and points to me as Cooter attempts to walk, "He moves anywhere and y'all are dead." Cooter stands instantly still with the kid.

Originality and Creativity is NOT a stupid thing and I don't believe I heard anyone call or say it is stupid. I have worked hard and fought hard to keep my originality, but it has now seemed to slip...what was once was original in my eyes don't seem so original...my ideas don't seem as original as they once were or where they started out to be. Which could be a part of my problem, I don't know; but I do know I will continue to work on it and use the ideas I have set out with. I understand where both of you are coming at and support you both, you both are great friends of mine and I want to thank you for all that you have done for me, for listening and trying to help on my writing. I think the only person that can help me with my writing now, is me. Thank-you for your support, thank-you everyone for your support in my writing. People has a right to be protective of thier characters and who they are...I know I am. I would be the first to stick of for Kristy and Garrett, to thier personalities, looks, occupations , to names. But there is soo many occupations that one can pick, if one person picks out of her head that she wants to be a secetary for Hogg without even thinking of Kristy or what not...that really isn't copying if she can prove and writes it differently. Hair and eye color are limited yes and there is many names out there...but if you have a character and a certian name fits perfectly, then why shouldn't you use it? I mean yeah, if it was like Kristy or Garrett who is a majoy role in my novels, that is one thing to be upset about, but if the name happens to be a minimal character's name and the person's character don't appear to look like or have the same trait as the minimal character...it dont' nessesarily count as copying I wouldn't think. I doubt that I am making any sense here, but I am typing as I think of it of how I feel about it. I don't think it is fit to argue over names to a character that is placed like once or twice in a fic when someone picks it out of her head for her character (unless the name is creative or made up). Now if someone picked out a minimal character out of one person's fic and built her character to have the same eye color, personality, hair color and looks, yeah that is something to be upset about and what not, but if someone just has the name with a diff. profile, then that is different I would think. Yes there are several job occupations out there, but in a small town there aren't always that many job occupations -everyone has thier likes and dislikes and perhaps two people like the same kind of work, why can't they both use that occupation for thier character if it is different? I don't know, just something to think about I guess. I don't know exactly what started this or what not, but as I said I see where you both are coming from. All that is my view point of it all. ~a minimal character's name or occupation isn't worth loosing friends or fighting over. I live in a small town and I can tell you there is several names that is repeated, even in the day care I work at there is a few kids' names that is repeated, one name is used on THREE kids. So what is the big deal? If someone used the main character like Kristy, Daney, or Essy; yeah that would be something to stick up for, but a minimal character that only shows up a couple of times? And Daney, I don't think anyone wants you to leave or wants to use your character. Daney is as part of you as you are of you! I don't think that is what Essy is talking about...using your character or anyone elses character- what I understand is that she wants to create her own character with it's own personality and what not, but not to fight over a name or an occupation, when she picked it out for her character. I don't know, but that is what I got and I may not be making any sense here...

~LUKE DUKE~ Slowly I throw the old muscle car into park within three large bushes that rest several feet from the green swamp. My stomach seems to do a long series of flips within me at the retched smell of the swamp floats in through the open windows. For a long moment Cooter and I sit silently in our seats as thoughts of my cousin play clearly in my head, of creating the General Lee together, to working on our car together, to all the races we have entered and raced within the General. Tears swell in my eyes at the thought of my cousin as the thought of loosing him tears through my memories to pierce my heart. "You ready?" I jump in surprise as Frank Mills shows up at my window with a few of his men. "Yes sir," I sigh pulling myself out through the door and am soon followed by Cooter who glares questionably at me, "What we do now?" "We split up into teams and search," Frank orders, "and whenever anyone finds something, we call on our walkee talkies. Understand? Anything and everything gets reported." "Yes sir," says his men who are bustled around us and I look around the large group of men to count at least fifteen men if not more. "Good," Frank sighs looking around, "I will go with Luke and Cooter...Agent Jonathen Loaks, Agent Keifer Klerks, and Agent Donnell Zarlen, I want you three to come with us. The rest of you group I want you to group in with three men to group to go seperate ways." "Yes sir," they say once again and I sigh as I see a tall thin man with his light brownish blond hair cut in a crew cut and hard green eyes walk up to us with a man a couple inches shorter and more muscular with a darker shade of brown that is neatly cut walks up to us, his dark blue eyes are cold and fierce. Glancing around I watch the men gather in groups as a broad shoulder tall and muscular African American reaches us, his whispy black hair cut short and in a crew cut and his dark brownish black eyes are just as hard and cold as the other two. "Agent Keifer Klerks," says the musuclar man with the thinly cut light brown hair and hard piercing blue eyes, "this is my partner Agent Jonathen Loaks," he says pointing to the taller of the three before pointing to the broad and muscular agent, "and this is Agent Donnell Zarlen." After shaking hands Frank says, "OK we all set...don't do nothing heroic, stupid, or foolish! Call if anything comes up." Slowly we all head into different directions of the swamp land, the swampy mud splashes disgustingly over our boots. A few moments pass of silence as my thoughts run wildly of all that they could be doing to Bo right now and as each horrible thought races through my head, my heart tightens worse in grief and in anger towards the men that has him. Anger soars with my grief, anger that I have never known before, anger so deep that it makes me anxious to find them, to attack them, to make them pay for even touching my cousin. "Stop," Frank mumbles in a harsh whisper that seems to echo through the silence that has grown between us. Stopping I force myself to glance up from glaring at the mudd to find an old dirty cabin with a large relaxing front porch that holds a scarred swing bench on it. My heart races within me as I spot a dirty cabin with a large wooden porch with a scarred swing bench only a few feet ahead of us. Besides me I hear Keifer shift his weight as two tall men walk out of the flimsy door and walk to the wooden railing where the two men pull cigerrettes from thier pockets and begin to light them. "Raze," the tall dark brown haired man says rubbing his dark goatee, though he holds the height he seems too thin to possess any threat; though doubt that is the case. "What is it, Bren?" the taller one of the two who holds tattoos up and down his bare arms snaps back at him as he lets out a cloud of thick smoke. Raze is tall and muscular with an old crew cut of blondish brown hair and a thin beard and mustache. "When will this all end? I mean the killing, the beatings?" Bren finally says looking off into the distance, "I don't mind beatin' the blond, he's fun to torture...but the old man? That's like beatin' my old man! The blond kid, yeah that's fun...but I can't do the old man. Drake said only a couple of months ...three at the most; it's been over a year now and now he's got the blond. Where does it end? I tol' Tisha I'd be home by now..." "Relax Bren, you are way too tense," Raze smiles evilly flicking some ashes off his cigerrette, "you need to relax and have some fun...go beat Bo good, torture him some, have some fun for yourself. Drake knows what he's doin'...he's takin' this whole town just like takin' candy froma baby. Before we know it we'll have this town all to ourselves, the people too scared to stand up to us and we can get away with everything!" "You're right," the younger one, Bren finally says, "I just got to worryin' last night about the FBI and all, I ain't gonna go down for Drake; he wouldn't go down for us and you know that Raze...everything is all about himself." "We're not going down, no one is," Raze says, "Drake says a day or so for the old man to really die and then a week tops for Bo before we slowly torture him to death...placing his body right at the Duke farm...make sure everyone sees his blody body; then it all begins to unravel." We watch for a moment as they go silent and Frank steps back and sends a call to the rest to where the hide out is. "Damn it," Frank mumbles under his breath as he steps up next to me, stepping on a large twig that makes a large snap, echoing off the swamp walls. "What was that?" Bren asks throwing his cigerrette out glaring around. "Damn it!" Raze says throwing his out, pointing right us...we've been seen! "Drake, get everyone out here! They found us!"

((((((((((ALL))))))))))))))))

No such thing as being too kind or too nice. It is great to know such great people as y'all and knowing that I have friends like you all. Thanks for everything...for listening and for the help. You all are great.

You are so welcome. I am really glad to know you and everyone on here, just like a big family khee. Y'all are great too!

YOu got that right Essy! There is a lot of great people on this board and I am glad to know all the people I know on hnet! Thanks for your friendship and all that you have done for me! Thanks all...and thank-you Essy, Daney, Val, Scoot, and Riddick for encouraging me to write no matter what. 8) Your support matters to me!...A whole lot. Thanks all! Your support matters the world to me...especiall in times as this. I am sorry for all the complaining that I had done! Thanks for everything! Y'all are the greatest!