I kind of edited one thing. Bo was thirteen, not fourteen when Luke joined the marines and Luke was in the marines for three years not four. Bo's sixteenth birthday will be in a few weeks. Okay everybody?
THIS IS EXTREME OOCNESS! I KNOW BOSS AND ROSCO ARE REALLY DIFFERENT THAN THEY ARE ON THE SHOW, BUT I HAD TO CHANGE IT OR THE WHOLE PLOT WOULD BE DESTROYED AND THIS IDEA WOULD BE SHOVED INTO THE BACK OF MY MIND WITH ALL THE OTHER LITTLE MONSTERS THAT WILL NEVER BE PUT DOWN ON PAPER AND WOULD TORMENT MY MIND FOREVER MORE!
Summary: Chapter One
Luke Duke looked at his younger cousin. When he had left, Bo had been a head shorter than him and healthily skinny. Now he had caught his older cousin height wise and was skinny as a broomstick although he had muscled up. He still had a devil-may-care smile, but it seemed fixed, like he had glued it there to keep people from seeing what he really felt. But what had changed most about him were his eyes. They had been, lively, innocent, and- and alive last time Luke had seen him. Now they made him look like a kicked puppy, always expecting to be hit again. Luke saw the way he scrambled to do anything that needed doing. He would return bundles to strangers who dropped them and sprint away before they could offer any thanks. He quickly returned Uncle Jesse's keys to him when he dropped them before scrambling into the bed of the truck without checking to see if there was room for him in the cab.
Letting Uncle Jesse and Daisy sit up front, Luke sat in the bed of the truck with his little cousin. Bo looked almost fearful to have Luke in such close proximity to him.
"So what's new?" Luke asked, pretending not to notice how Bo looked.
"Not much. Boss has gotten fatter and he and Rosco have gotten meaner," the blonde haired teen said. The older Duke chuckled.
A little while after they got home Bo disappeared. After a while Luke gave into curiosity and asked where he was.
"Well Bo's got himself a job," Uncle Jesse said. "He works down at the sheriff's station and in J.D.'s office. He just does pretty much anything that need doing. The hours are bad, but it puts a few dollars on the table every day."
"When'll he be home?" Luke asked.
"Usually it's after we're in bed. He says J.D. gives him a few minutes for lunch and dinner though," Uncle Jesse answered.
It was enough to stifle Luke's curiosity, but he couldn't help but feel like something was wrong.
"Get me my food," Boss demanded. Trying not to breath in the smell, it would only make him hungrier, Bo picked up the tray. Almost immediately he dropped it, sucking on his burnt fingers. The tray was scalding hot and Bo had picked it up without knowing so.
"You idiot!" Boss screamed, his pudgy face reddening with fury.
"I'm sorry," Bo apologized even though he knew it would be useless. He bent and began putting the food back onto the plate, ignoring the burning and throbbing in his fingers.
Boss's thick hands found the heavy glass paper weight and he threw it at Bo's unsuspecting back. The glass shattered loudly and Bo was knocked face first onto the floor. Shards of glass ripped through his thin shirt and tore into the skin. Red seeped into his shirt and it was all Bo could do to keep from crying out. Bo sat on the ground trembling while Boss calmed down.
"Go home," he grunted throwing a handful of dollar bills in Bo's direction. Bo snatched up the bills and hurried out the door before Boss could change his mind.
Not quite halfway through his walk home Bo saw Rosco by the creek, knee deep in water.
"Get over here Duke," he shouted. Without thinking Bo went over to him. Like a trained dog, he thought before Rosco spoke.
"My badge is in the water. Get it." Bo bent over and started running his hands over the rocks. Rosco became frustrated quickly and put his hand on the back of Bo's head and shoved down.
"Get my badge and you can come up," he hissed. Bo frantically began digging through the mud and muck as the sensation of drowning took over. His lungs were burning and his vision was fogging around the edges when he found the badge. He held it out of the water for Rosco to see. The man snatched it quickly and yanked Bo out of the water.
"Do it faster next time," Rosco said, slapping the young Duke across the face before getting into his patrol car and leaving Bo coughing and wheezing on the ground. Bo coughed and sputtered. Subconsciously, he wondered if this was the final time Rosco would ever hurt him. He threw up several times, his stomach aching as the little food that it still contained from breakfast were emptied quickly onto the ground.
After about a half hour of sitting there shaking Bo got back to his feet. By the time he got home, Bo knew he was going to get sick. He was coughing and shaking and could barely walk. He grabbed the trunk of a young tree and supported himself on it until he was steady on his feet. It took Bo more than double the time it usually did to get home. He was cold and wet from nearly being drowned by Rosco and sticky with blood for Boss's paper weight, most of which was now stuck in his back. BUt none of this was enough to compete with exhaustion.
Not remembering that his cousin was in the next bed over, Bo collapsed on his bed and began quietly sobbing into his pillow. He hated his job, but he knew that the few dollars he brought in helped and that money was tight around the farm. Maybe now that Luke was back he could quit. No, one more family member meant one more mouth to feed. He would still have to work.
"Bo, Bo, wake up," Luke said shaking his cousin when he found him a few hours later. He had woken up and found Bo lying face down on his bed covered in water and blood. He was shaking with cold and curled in a ball, trying to warm himself.
Bo finally jerked awake.
He looked around with a wild panic in his eyes. The kicked puppy look was back, but it now looked more like a puppy waiting for someone to bring a hammer down on it it's head and end it's life.
"It's alright Bo," Luke said. "What happened to ya?"
"Uh… nothing," Bo lied. "I fell into the creek on my way home and got cut up pretty bad. Mostly I'm just shook up I think."
"You got more than shook up. You're covered in blood."
"It's rocky by the creek," Bo said. That was true, but it probably wasn't rocky enough to cut him up like this.
It was dark so Luke couldn't see the ugly purple bruise in the shape of a hand on Bo's cheek or the full extent of his injuries.
"OK," he said. "Let's get you cleaned up then you can go back to sleep." Luke let Bo sit on his bed while he went and got the first aid kit. Luke pulled Bo's shirt over his head and Bo hissed in pain as the fibers that had been stuck in the cuts were ripped off. Luke rubbed his shoulder soothingly as Bo breathed deeply.
"Is this… glass?" Luke said pulling a shard carefully from Bo's back.
"Um…. Yeah," Bo said, seeing it useless to lie being as Luke held the evidence in his hand. "I think I slid over an old bottle or something." Bo was disgusted with himself at how easily and quickly he could lie to his family. He deserved everything Boss and Rosco did to him.
Luke finished cleaning and bandaging the cuts in the dark and let Bo go back to his bed once he was done. Once Bo was positive Luke was asleep he crept out of bed and went to the refrigerator and pulled out an ice pack. He sat at the kitchen table and pressed it to his face until the ice melted and it became warm in his hand. He threw away the plastic sack and crept back to his bed room, falling asleep the second his head hit the pillow.
Bo was relieved to see that the bright red and purple mark in the shape of a hand was gone and replaced by a dark blue blob and a black eye. It would raise questions, but a lot less than the big hand print.
Trying not to wake Luke, Bo slid out of bed and into the bathroom. Once he had showered, brushed his teeth, and dressed he slipped outside to do his chores. When he came back in everyone else was at the breakfast table. He glanced at the clock, 7:00.
At 7:30 he left the Duke farm and headed to work. The day went like it usually did and by 3:30 he was on the floor with Boss hitting him over the head with a broomstick. His head, shoulders, and back started bleeding, but if he was quiet and just took it then Boss would finish faster.
Suddenly the door burst open and a familiar figure was standing in front of Boss and Bo. Bo's hear pounded in his ears as the person shoved Boss away and threw the broom. The person pulled the blond teenager to his chest as tears ran down both of their faces.
Luke.
It was the wetness of his pillow that woke Bo. He looked around confused. He had never woken up or gone to work and Luke had never walked in and saved him. He was just lying in bed crying at a dream. He quickly wiped his face and glanced at the clock. 7:58! There was no way he could make it to work on time.
Suddenly he burst into a violent fit of coughing, but quickly got up and started pulling out clothes to put on. He didn't have time for a shower or to do his chores this morning. He would just do them in the dark when he got home.
"Where do you think you're going buddy?" Luke asked, pushing him back down onto the bed.
"I gotta get to work," Bo protested. To his surprise his voice was hoarse and raw. "I'm already late."
"You're sick buddy," Luke said. "I'm sure Boss'll understand."
Bo shook his head. "I'm not allowed to have days off."
"Well you can't go to work sick."
"I've done it before."
"Well you won't be doing it again."
The stood and stared at each other in a battle of wills until Bo collapsed coughing violently. Luke grabbed his cousin by the arm and steered him onto the bed.
"You're not working today," he repeated gently, but firmly. Bo nodded, knowing that he couldn't. Working through the flu was tough, but possible as long as Uncle Jesse didn't know he was sick, but working through whatever this was wasn't possible.
Bo curled into a ball under the covers that Luke placed over him. "I'll get you some soup," he said leaving the room.
By the time Luke came back in Bo was asleep with no chance of waking any time soon.
Aw… poor Bo. Why do I enjoy torturing my favorite characters so much? My parents think I need therapy. They might be right, but I will never go to a therapist. Therapist = the/rapist. Sound like someone you want to go see?
And some of this might be crap. The end was written at about three o'clock in the morning so don't blame me. Blame my parents who after all these years still have not learned not to give me sugar.