Tales of the Tug Fork Valley

by appalachianwriter

A collection of one-shots that are McCoy friendly. More info inside.

18. It'll Be Alright (Modern AU)

September 2009

Bud tugged on the hem of Tolbert's shirt, causing his older brother to look down at him. Tolbert sighed, bending down and lifting him, placing a kiss on the boy's cheek.

"Do ya have t' go?" Bud asked softly, his hazel eyes welling with tears.

"Yeah, baby. I've got t' go," Tolbert murmured in response. "But it's okay! I'll get a leave pretty soon n I'll come see ya. When I get back, we'll do whatever you want. Just me n you."

"I don't want y' t' go!" Bud buried his face in the crook of Tolbert's neck.

"I know, Buddy. But I've got to. I promise, honey, we'll do whatever ya want when I come back. 'S jus' for a little while. It'll be okay. And hey, ya get our room all to yourself!"

Bud squirmed as Tolbert brushed his fingers against his side, tickling him.

"Hey, look at me."

Bud lifted his head, gazing at his older brother. Tolbert peppered the boy's face with kisses.

"I love you."

"I love y' too," Bud sniffled. "Please don't go."

"I have to. But I promise, Bud, I'll be back."

"Okay."

—

January 2010

Bud huffed as he sat in the office, kicking his legs back and forth while he did his homework. He'd always hated it with a passion, and he hated it even more now that he didn't have Tolbert to help him with it.

Ran'l had made it plain that Bud was to stay in the office while he went up to the mill to see why they were broke down. So Bud hadn't complained and had sat in Ran'l's chair at the desk, and had been occupying himself with his homework.

He didn't bother to look up when the door opened, figuring it was his father or one of his brothers. He heard the door close and heard someone shuffle. Bud didn't pay any attention to it, though. His brothers were always shuffling around in the office to find the tools Ran'l sent them after.

His brows furrowed when he didn't hear them rustling around. That was odd. He knew that they were still there, but he couldn't figure out why they hadn't set out to find what they needed.

"Well, geez, kid. I thought you'd be happy t' see me."

Bud's gaze snapped up, his eyes widening when he saw Tolbert. He scrambled out of his chair and ran over to him, throwing himself into Tolbert's arms. Tolbert held him, letting him wrap his arms and legs around him tightly and tuck his head in the crook of his neck.

"Tolbert!" he muffled against his neck, tears streaming down his face.

"Hey, baby," Tolbert laughed softly, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple. "Where's Poppy?"

"U-up at the m-mill. Oh my God, I m-missed you!"

"I missed ya too, Buddy. Spent a lot of time thinkin' 'bout ya while I was over there."

"Y-ya gotta go back?" Bud lifted his head and wiped his face.

"Yeah. I've got two weeks with you, though. We'll do whatever you want. I promised that, r'member?"

Bud nodded and swallowed thickly.

"And I'll have t' stay with you. That okay?"

"Y-yeah," Bud answered swiftly. "Yeah, 's okay. 'S been lonely without ya."

"How could you possibly be lonely in this crazy family of ours?" Tolbert teased, kissing his cheek.

"None of 'em's you," Bud murmured. Tolbert's gaze softened as he stared at the boy, exhaling deeply. "'M real glad yer back."

"Me too, baby. Me too."

—

Tolbert grunted when Bud kicked his stomach, muttering something incoherent under his breath before grabbing Bud's ankle and pulling him toward him, the little boy screeching.

"Hey! Hey, no, no, stop!" Bud swatted at him, laughing as Tolbert pinched his sides.

"You started it," Tolbert shrugged, smacking his leg before he climbed onto the bed.

Tolbert sighed heavily as he flopped down on his side of the bed, throwing his arms over his head. Bud crawled up to him and curled up against him, laying his left arm on Tolbert's torso, his head lying on his chest.

"Hey, Tol?"

"Hm?"

"Why d'ya gotta go back?"

"'Cause I was told I have to," he replied, pulling his fingers through the boy's hair. "This is technically my job right now. An' while I don't like leavin' you or anyone else in the fam'ly, I like what I do. I like fightin' t' keep you safe. While I might be technically fightin' t' keep the country safe, I think 'bout you every night, baby. 'Cause I'm keepin' you safe by fightin'."

"Y-yeah? I think 'bout ya too, Tolbert. Ev'ry night."

"I miss you a lot, kiddo. You're my fav'rite, ya know that?"

"No," he murmured. "Yer my fav'rite, too."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, that's sweet of ya, baby," Tolbert chuckled, kissing the top of Bud's head. "Whaddaya say we watch a movie?"

"Sure."

"You okay with it? If ya don't wanna watch a movie, we can do somethin' else."

"Mm... I'm really tired, Tol."

"A'ight, so we'll sleep. That sounds like a fantastic idea, kiddo."

Bud giggled as Tolbert got up and turned off the lights. He rolled onto his side of the bed, pulling the covers up to his chest before shifting onto his side and stuffing his arm under his pillow.

"Night, Tolbert."

"Night, Buddy."

—

Tolbert gasped as he jerked awake, pushing himself up to a sitting position. Once his bleary vision focused in the dark room, Tolbert huffed a breath of relief and let himself fall against the bed, shifting onto his side.

"God, I hate those stupid dreams," he grumbled to himself, stuffing his arm under his pillow.

"Tol'ert? Y' say somethin'?" Bud mumbled groggily.

"No, baby. Go back t' sleep."

Bud turned over and curled up against him, huffing in contentment as he nuzzled against Tolbert's neck. Tolbert wrapped an arm around him, a small smile appearing on his face.

"Love y', Tol."

"Love you too, baby."

—

Tolbert was up before the sun. He'd carefully maneuvered his way out of bed and had gone downstairs, finding his father in the kitchen.

"Sleep well?" Ran'l queried, quirking a brow.

"Eh," Tolbert shrugged. "Not as well as I would've liked. I thought those stupid dreams would stop once I came home, but they didn't."

"The ones ya told me 'bout?"

"Yeah," he nodded swiftly. "I managed t' get back t' sleep, though."

"Sit down, son."

Tolbert did as he was told, sitting down in the chair across from Ran'l's. He licked his lips and shifted slightly, his eyes flicking up and meeting his father's.

"Don't look so nervous, Tolbert. Ya told me 'bout 'em n I never told anyone. What'd ya dream last night, son?"

"That Bud got hurt. I don't think it woulda been as bad if it hadn't felt so real," he admitted quietly. "It's fine, I know he's alright."

"Because you're sleepin' in the same room he is. What do ya do when you're over there, hm?"

"Tell myself that if anythin' was wrong, y'all would call me. You'd find some way t' let me know what was goin' on. I can usually get back t' sleep after that. It's jus' stupid dreams that feel a little too real."

"I know. I hope ya stop havin' 'em while you're here. But when you're overseas n ya worry 'bout people, you're bound t' have those types of dreams."

"Bud's diff'rent," Tolbert said quickly. "He's not like the rest of 'em t' me. I've never had anybody want t' be around me like he does. He's just — he's different. He don't care if I get mad or not, he's right there. And I love him more than anythin'. I really do."

"I know ya do. You n Bud have a special kind of bond that won't go away, no matter what the two of ya do or say t' each other. Ya love each other too much for that. He looks up t' you. He thinks yer the greatest man on earth, Tolbert McCoy."

"Well, he shouldn't think that," Tolbert chuckled. "Not when he's got you t' look up to."

"Bud McCoy is gonna think what he wants t' think. There ain't no stoppin' him. He's like you, he's stubborn n hard-headed. Pretty sure that's the only way the two of ya are alike," Ran'l remarked, earning a bark of laughter from Tolbert. "I'm serious! That boy's as hard-headed and as stubborn as you are."

"He can't be that bad, Poppy."

"He's that bad, Tolbert."

"Wha's goin' on?"

Tolbert turned and found Bud, who was rubbing his eye as he padded into the kitchen.

"I'm jus' talkin' t' Poppy, baby. What're you doin' up?"

"Y' wa'n't there," Bud mumbled, climbing into his older brother's lap. "Thought y' went 'way 'gain."

"No, Buddy. I'm not goin' anywhere for a little while, remember? We've still got thirteen days t'gether."

Bud placed his head against Tolbert's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Tolbert kissed the crown of Bud's head and wrapped his arms around him, making sure the boy didn't topple over.

"I love y', Tol'ert," he murmured sleepily, fighting to stay awake.

"I love you too, Buddy. You can go back t' sleep if ya wanna."

Bud hummed and closed his eyes, dozing off.

"Well, I see ya have yourself a lost puppy," Ran'l jested, earning an eye roll from Tolbert.

"He's clingy," Tolbert muttered, a small smile gracing his lips. "But I know I was the same way ev'ry time you came home. There ain't a thing wrong with him bein' clingy. I don't know if I get t' come back home this time."

"Tolbert—"

"You know as well as I do that it's a possibility. I'd rather spend what time I've got with him than regret it once I go back. He doesn't understand why I do what I do. All he knows is that I go away n leave him here; I want it that way. I don't want him knowin' what I'm doin' or what could happen to me. I don't want him t' be scared of me, Poppy."

"He wouldn't be scared of ya. He'd love ya even more."

"I dunno, Poppy. I've watched a lot of people die."

"I know," Ran'l sighed. "But... listen, a'ight? You're gonna come back home. Alive. That boy right there needs you, ya know it as well as I do. He's gonna be your reason for stayin' alive."

Tolbert nodded slightly. He knew his father was right; Bud was his reason for staying alive. Bud was the reason he wasn't careless. Tolbert knew there was always the chance of something happening to him anyway, but as long as Bud was safe, he didn't care about that. He just wanted his baby brother to be safe.

"Yeah... I reckon he is my reason for stayin' alive," Tolbert admitted, brushing Bud's bangs out of his eyes. "I love him. I love all of ya, I do, but I think I worry 'bout him the most, y'know? He practically attached himself t' my hip n he's always been my fav'rite, ain't gonna lie. I need him."

Ran'l smiled and stood up, ruffling Tolbert's ginger curls.

"I know ya need him. He needs you, too. But don't forget, Tolbert, every single one of us needs you. We all love ya. You've always been yer Mama's fav'rite, an' it'd break her heart if somethin' ever happened to ya, son. Yer one of my fav'rites."

Tolbert chuckled breathlessly.

"Poppy, y' don't have ta—"

Tolbert was cut off by Ran'l placing a finger against his lips, just like he used to when Tolbert was a small child. The memory made Tolbert giggle at the action.

"What're you gigglin' for?" Ran'l laughed.

"Ya used t' do that all the time t' get me t' shut up. I'd kinda forgot about it."

"Anyway, I'm tellin' ya the truth, Bert. I don't know what I'd do without ya, son. You're a good man with a good heart, and I think that's the best thing 'bout ya. You'd do anything for any of us. I'm right proud of ya, Bert."

"'M glad I could make ya proud, Poppy. I've been tryin' for years."

"Ya don't have t' try t' make me proud. I've been proud o' you all your life, Tolbert McCoy. Ya've never given me a reason t' be anythin' but proud of ya."

"I can think of a few dumb things I've done," Tolbert snorted.

"I never said ya ain't ever done a few dumb things in yer life. I said ya ain't gave me a reason t' not be proud of ya."

"A'ight, that's fair," he shrugged lightheartedly. "In case I don't see ya again 'cause I promised this one we'd go out t'day... I love you."

"I love you too, son."

—

Two weeks later, Bud was curled against his father's side, his eyes red and burning. Ran'l rubbed the little boy's back, knowing that he'd eventually fall asleep and he could carry him up to his room.

"Why'd he have t' go?" Bud murmured, his hand clenching the fabric of Ran'l's shirt.

"'Cause he hasn't retired from the army yet. Tolbert knows what he's doin', honey. He's careful."

"Wha' ya mean by that?" Bud looked up at him, brows furrowed. "Is somethin' gonna happen to him?!"

"What? No, Buddy, no. At least... I don't think so. I think he'll come back alive."

"He could die?"

"Yeah, honey," Ran'l nodded slowly. "He could die. He's at war. War's a terrible thing, Buddy, but your brother knows what he's doin'. I doubt he's gonna let himself get killed when he knows you're here waitin' for him t' come back."

"Why would he go then?"

"Because he cares about you. He wants t' keep ya safe, Bud. He feels that this is the best way t' do that."

Bud sobbed into his father's shirt, his grip on the fabric tightening.

"I don't w-want him gone! I—I want h-him ho-home!"

"I know, Buddy. He's gonna be okay. Let's get you t' bed. It's awful late."

—

"Finally get him t' sleep?" Sally quirked a brow as Ran'l entered their room.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I slipped up. He found out the bad possibility."

"Oh, Ran'l," Sally groaned, shooting her husband a look.

"I know, Sally. I know. We're not tellin' Tolbert he found out. He'd kill me."

"I doubt that very much. Bert loves you. He might be a Mama's boy, but he loves you a lot, Randolph McCoy. He looks up t' you. He always has."

"Yeah, an' it was me joinin' the army that made him want t' do it," Ran'l retaliated, his voice taking an edge to it.

"You know as well as I do that he woulda done it anyway. He's got that little boy down the hall that he's determined t' keep safe."

Ran'l glanced at Sally before he shook his head, getting into bed.

"I don't know, Sally. I don't think he woulda gone overseas if it wasn't for the fact he thought it was great that I was in the army. He mighta stayed in Pike County as a policeman or somethin', I don't know. I'd feel better if I knew he was safe all the time."

"A'ight, so say ya didn't join the army n he still looked ya dead in the eye n said he wanted t' join the army. Would ya stop him?"

"Ya know darn good and well that I can't stop him when he's eighteen."

"Exactly. He's eighteen, Ran'l. Ya can't stop him."

"But if I could, I would."

"I know that, darlin'. Just like I woulda stopped you if I could've."

Ran'l looked over at her, finding that she was on her side, facing him. He sighed heavily and shifted onto his side, cupping her face with his left hand and pecking her lips.

"I know ya would've. But I don't regret goin'. I'm glad I went. Made me feel like I did somethin' t' keep you n all of our babies safe."

"Mm... I think ya do a fine job of keepin' us safe."

"Thanks, I reckon." A beat of silence. "Tolbert's gonna be fine. We'll just keep in touch with him."

—

October 2010

"Hey, Poppy. Listen, things changed and I'm not gonna be able t' come home this time. I know I promised him n all, but I was told not too long ago it's not possible. And I was told it's likely there won't be any leaves for Thanksgivin' or Christmas. Tell him I'm sorry. I want t' come home, but I can't. Oh God, I gotta go. Love you."

Ran'l sighed heavily, trying to figure out how he could explain it to Bud. He'd been looking forward to Tolbert coming home again. It would break the boy's heart to know that Tolbert wasn't going to be coming home for a long while.

"Hey, Poppy! When's Tol comin' home?" Bud beamed at him as he entered the office.

Ran'l gazed at him, motioning for the boy to come closer. Bud walked over to him, leaning against his arm.

"When's he comin' home, Poppy?"

"Buddy... Tol's not gonna get t' come home this time around."

"Why not?" Bud's voice dropped in volume, his mood turning solemn.

"They told him he can't come home this time."

"But he'll be here for—"

"He's not gonna get t' come home until next year."

Tears welled in the little boy's eyes, his throat closing up as he gazed at his father.

"Come here, Buddy."

He climbed into his father's lap, one leg on either side of him. Bud put his head against Ran'l's shoulder, his hand grasping the fabric of Ran'l's shirt.

"Why?" Bud asked, his voice no louder than a hoarse whisper.

"I don't know, son. But it's okay. We'll just make it even better when he gets t' come home."

"He promised, Poppy."

"I know. He can't help it if they tell him he has t' stay there, Bud. He could get in a lot of trouble if he left. Believe me, Bud, he wants t' come home. He just can't."

Bud whimpered as a few stray tears fell onto his pale face, sniffling.

"I miss 'im."

"I know, Buddy. But it's okay. We're gonna do whatever ya want for your birthday."

Bud slowly shook his head. He didn't want to do anything without Tolbert. Tolbert was supposed to come home and stay for about a week, and he was supposed to be there for Bud's birthday. He'd been looking forward to it, had already planned to spend all of his time with Tolbert.

"Hey, it's okay. Tolbert'll come home soon. You can do whatever ya want with him then."

That wasn't the same, though, and Bud didn't know how to express that. Tolbert was supposed to have been there and he wasn't going to be. It angered him and saddened him, but he wasn't sure which emotion was the most dominant one. He was almost certain it was the sadness that was the most dominant, though.

"I love you, Buddy."

"I love you, Poppy," he murmured. "When y' talk t' Tol 'gain, will ya tell 'im I love him?"

"Yeah, darlin'. I'll tell him."

—

December 2011

Bud was undeniably sick. Ran'l was having a hard time convincing the boy that he needed to go to the doctor, even though Ran'l could lift him and carry him out the door himself. He was trying to make Bud understand that it wasn't normal to run a fever of 103.1, that it wasn't normal for his breathing to be as shallow as it was.

And after managing to work out a deal that Ran'l would let him stay up late to talk to Tolbert, Bud agreed to it. He'd allowed his father to take him to the doctor, where he learned he had pneumonia.

Now, waiting for Tolbert to call, he curled up against his father, shifting slightly in an attempt to get comfortable. Ran'l let him curl up against him, brushing his sweaty hair off of his forehead.

The phone rang. Ran'l scratched Bud's head while he answered it, putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Poppy," Tolbert greeted, sounding exhausted. Bud's brows furrowed. That didn't sound like Tolbert at all. "How's ev'rybody doin'?"

"Well, I guess we're gettin' along a'ight. Bud's got pneumonia, but he's okay. I made the deal with him that he could stay up n talk t' you if he agreed t' go to the doctor."

"You lettin' him blackmail you already?" Tolbert joked.

"He didn't blackmail me," Ran'l rolled his eyes. "He was bein' stubborn."

"I was not!" Bud argued. Tolbert laughed at them.

"Hey, baby! How ya doin'?"

"A'ight. I miss ya, Tol. Ya gonna get t' come home for Christmas?"

"'Fraid not, baby," Tolbert sighed heavily. "Ain't no leaves available for Christmas. I'm tryin', though. I wanna come home n spend all my time with ya. I miss you."

"Why won't they let ya come home?"

"I don't know, Buddy. But I promise, honey, as soon as I can, I'll come home. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Now... now listen t' me, a'ight? Ya've gotta get better for me, so you do whatever Mama n Poppy tell ya t' do. Okay?"

"Okay. I hope ya come home soon."

"Me too, baby. Me too."

"Ya doin' okay, Tol?"

"Yeah, baby, I'm doin' just fine. I'm still talkin' to ya, ain't I?"

"Yeah...?"

"Well then, I'm doin' just fine. Believe me, honey, it's rough over here. And I hope and pray ya never have t' go through anything like it."

"Why?"

"A lot of things I'll explain to ya when you're older. Right now... right now, you focus on gettin' better and plannin' a day just for us when I get back. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I've gotta go, but I love you, baby."

"I love you too, Tolbert."

—

Bud huffed as Jim entered his room, turning to where his back faced him.

"Oh, don't be that way. You're not in trouble."

"I don't care if I am! I don't want her in here!" Bud snapped harshly, refusing to turn over and look at Jim. "I don't want anyone in here!"

"Liar."

"I am not."

"You are too. Ya want Bert here with ya like he always is when ya get sick," Jim countered, watching as Bud's breath hitched. "But that wa'n't no reason t' snap at Ali the way ya did. She's just tryin' t' help, Buddy."

"I don't want her help."

"I know. You can't have what you want this time. It's diff'rent for all of us, Bud. We're all used t' havin' Tolbert around all the time, but he's not anymore. And you've got t' accept it right now. Ya don't have t' like it, but you've gotta accept it. Ya got t' let the rest of us help you."

"Why don't he ever come home anymore?" Bud asked softly, his throat constricting.

"I reckon 'cause they only let so many of 'em go home. I guess Tolbert ain't been lucky enough t' get another leave."

"I miss 'im."

"I know ya do, darlin'," Jim sighed, rubbing Bud's back. "Let's hope he gets t' come home after the holidays are over with. Lord knows Tolbert needs to come home for a little while."

"What d'ya mean by that?"

"Nothin', Buddy. You try t' get some rest now."

—

April 2012

Bud grunted as he fell on the ground, groaning exasperatedly before standing up and grabbing the hammer again, going back to prying the rusty nails out of the board on the fence he was trying to fix.

"Bud, ain't you a bit young for that?" Calvin queried as he approached him.

"No, I ain't too young for it," Bud answered quite rudely. "Why don't ya mind yer own business, Calvin?"

"I was gonna help—"

"I don't need help! Just leave me alone, would ya?"

"A'ight," Calvin conceded, putting his hands up in mock surrender. He knew when to stop bothering Bud.

Bud watched him as he walked off, leaving him alone. Bud bit down harshly on his lip, forcing back unwanted tears. He didn't know what was wrong with him; he'd never been that way before. It wasn't like him to snap at Calvin for walking up to him and asking him a question like that.

He shook his head and went back to work. He didn't have the time to sit there and think about it.

—

Bud looked up as Jim entered his room, shooting him an unamused look.

"So, ya wanna tell me what happened with Calvin?" Jim asked nonchalantly, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.

"He acts like I can't do nothin'," Bud huffed. "'M not a baby no more."

"I know you're not. No one's sayin' that yer still a baby, Buddy. We just... we worry 'bout ya, honey."

"Ain't nothin' t' worry 'bout," Bud grumbled, picking at his nails.

"Randolph McCoy, Junior, I'm surprised at you," Ran'l started as he entered the room. "What's the matter with ya, snappin' at Cal the way ya did?!"

"'M sorry, Poppy. He keeps treatin' me like I'm a baby that can't do nothin'."

Ran'l exhaled deeply, forcing himself to calm down a little. He'd promised Sally that he wouldn't take his belt to Bud, and he intended to keep his promise.

"Bud, ya can't snap at people 'cause they do that."

"Why not?! 'M tired of him treatin' me like a baby!"

"Calm down, Bud," Jim spoke up, brushing the boy's shoulder-length hair back. "It's okay. Ya have ev'ry right t' feel the way ya do."

"Jim," Ran'l shot him a look.

"Poppy, ya'd have t' see it t' understand it."

"Poppy, is Tol comin' home?" Bud inquired, hope shining in his hazel eyes.

Ran'l didn't say anything as he crossed the room, pulling his fingers through his son's long hair.

"No, I'm afraid not," he answered softly.

"Can I talk t' him?"

"Not this time. Ya've got school t'morrow n ya gotta get up early, Buddy. Maybe next time."

"Okay, Poppy," he whispered, fighting to keep his tears back.

Ran'l ruffled his hair and planted a soft kiss on the crown of his head.

"Don't stay up much longer."

"Mkay."

Ran'l left the room, leaving him with Jim.

"I'm sorry, honey."

Bud's eyes flicked up and met Jim's.

"You talk to him?"

"Sometimes, yeah," he nodded slightly.

"Seems like ev'ryone does but me," Bud muttered quietly, hanging his head. "He ain't let me talk t' him since I had pneumonia. An' that was the first time I talked t' him while he's been over there."

"Well, baby, stayin' up that late ain't good for you. The rest of us can get by with sleepin' in a little. You can't. Ya have t' get up early t' go t' school."

"School ain't important. Tolbert is."

"School is very important, Bud. Ya like readin', don't ya? Ya wouldn't be able t' do it without goin' t' school."

"No, Tolbert taught me how t' read."

"He did?" Jim blinked.

"Mhm. He taught me 'fore I started school. My teacher thought I was fakin' it, but I wa'n't."

"Well... you try t' get some sleep, a'ight? I'm gonna go home and do the same."

"Do ya have t' go?" Bud asked with a trembling voice. "I don't wanna be alone."

"A'ight, one night," Jim conceded.

"Thank you."

"Think nothin' of it, Buddy."

—

November 2012

"Again?! He's not coming home again?!"

"Bud, ya know he can't—"

"I don't care! It's the same excuse every time he promises me he's gonna come home!"

"Bud, he wants—"

"It's like he don't even wanna come home anymore!"

Bud didn't give Ran'l a chance to say anything else; he went to his room and slammed the door, locking it behind him.

They were hiding something from him, he knew they were. They never let him talk to Tolbert, Tolbert never came home, he never heard anything directly from Tolbert. It was starting to make him think that maybe Tolbert had gotten killed and they weren't telling him.

The thought shattered Bud's heart. They would tell him if Tolbert had gotten killed, wouldn't they?

—

"I don't know what I'm gonna do with him, Sally," Ran'l sighed as he sat down on the couch, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"You're gonna leave him be," she stated firmly. "He's got a right t' feel the way he does, Ran'l."

"He said—"

"I know what he said. I heard him. Bud's got every right t' be hurt n upset, Randall. Ya don't even let him talk to him anymore."

"The last time I did, he had the same dream for a week straight."

"But he did a lot better when he talked to him," she countered softly. "You're gonna make him think somethin's wrong."

"Why would he do that?"

"Ya know how Bud is. If ya keep this up, not lettin' him talk to him or hear anything from him, he's gonna convince himself that we're keepin' somethin' from him. You can't go by Perry's opinion, Ran'l. He don't know your boy like you do."

"Perry has nothing t' do with this."

"Perry has everything t' do with this. He told you it would be best if ya didn't let him talk to him. That's gonna make it worse, Ran'l. Let him talk to him. Talkin' never did any harm."

—

"Hey, Tolbert," Ran'l murmured.

"Poppy? Ya alright?"

"Fine, son. You alright?"

"Yeah. It's been... a little peaceful t'day."

Ran'l slowly opened the door to Bud's room, finding the boy awake, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Buddy, ya wanna talk t' Tolbert?"

"No!" Bud turned away from him. "I don't care anymore. I don't wanna talk t' him!"

"Poppy? Did I do somethin'?" Tolbert asked softly as Ran'l closed the door.

"No, Tolbert, ya didn't do anything. He's just mad ya ain't comin' home."

"Oh," he breathed. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine. A little grumpy, maybe, but he's fine."

Sally looked surprised when Ran'l returned to the room so soon, closing the door behind him.

"He didn't sound fine, Poppy," Tolbert muttered.

"I promise, Tolbert, he's fine."

"A'ight. I really hate t' cut off the conversation, but I've gotta go. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Will ya tell Bud—"

"Yeah, I'll tell him."

"Thank ya, Poppy. Bye."

"Bye."

Ran'l looked at Sally as he set the phone down, shaking his head.

"What happened?" Sally questioned, patting the spot beside her.

"He said no. Said he didn't care anymore n that he didn't want t' talk t' him. I don't get it. He wanted t' talk to him earlier." Ran'l sat down on the bed, scratching the back of his neck. "T' make it worse, Tolbert heard it and thought he'd done somethin'."

"He's eleven years old, Ran'l. Ya can't be too hard on him."

"That's not an excuse, Sally."

"He's still a boy, Ran'l. No matter how much he insists he's not, he is. It hurts him when Tolbert says he's goin' t' come home n then he doesn't. Bud's always been close t' him, ya know that as well as I do."

"We're gonna have t' do somethin', Sally."

"He's upset. He has ev'ry right t' be. He ain't seen Tolbert in almost three years, Ran'l, and every time he's promised Tolbert's going t' come home, Tolbert doesn't come home. How d'ya think that makes him feel?"

Ran'l exhaled deeply, shaking his head.

"I dunno, Sally. It just... God, I don't know what I'm gonna do. I tried t' let him talk to him."

"You're gonna let him be upset. And the next time ya talk t' Tolbert, ask him before Tolbert calls you. Okay?"

"Okay."

—

June 2013

Sally looked up at Bud as he entered the kitchen, smiling softly at him.

"Hey, baby. Ya want a cookie? Jus' came outta the oven."

Bud took one and mumbled his thanks, sitting down in one of the chairs at the small table they had in the kitchen.

"Is Tol gonna come home this time?"

"I don't know, honey. I really ain't heard much since he said he was gonna come home. He hasn't been able t' call as much as he usually does. Why don't ya talk to him?"

"Don't want to," Bud shrugged. "I doubt he'd want t' talk t' me anyways. I don't know anything about what he does over there. Poppy does."

"Ya ever think maybe he wants t' talk 'bout somethin' else?" Sally quirked a brow. "He wants t' come home, Bud. He can't do anything about it if they tell him he has to stay."

Bud hummed. He didn't know why they didn't just come right out and tell him what he already knew. He'd figured out that Tolbert wasn't living anymore and had tried to push through the grief, to hide it as much as he possibly could without them catching on.

It was hard to hide his grief. He didn't know why they weren't being honest with him, but he wished they would at least come up with a different excuse every time they told him Tolbert wasn't going to come home. Bud didn't know much about any of this, but he at least knew that it was hard for him to believe the same excuse for three years.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"

"Hm? Oh... nothin', Mama."

Sally didn't necessarily believe him, but she wouldn't force him to talk to her. He was like Tolbert in that way — he couldn't be pressured into speaking. If anyone tried to press him, he'd clam up and wouldn't speak on the matter anymore.

"If you say so, baby," she murmured, eyeing him warily. "Want another cookie?"

"Sure, Mama."

—

Bud had been spending his evenings and Saturday afternoons organizing the never-ending files in the office. Every time he cleared one stack, it seemed that twenty more appeared in its place. Bud honestly didn't have a clue as to how his father could fit so many files in the relatively small office he had.

"Hey, Bud," Ran'l waved to him as he stepped inside, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Hey, Poppy. Tol still comin' home?" Bud glanced up at him, a file in his hands.

"No," Ran'l sighed. "But he's gonna call t'night. Ya wanna talk to him?"

"No, that's okay," Bud declined, placing the file in a drawer of one of the filing cabinets that lined the office walls. "It's not the same."

"But ya'd still be talkin' to him. Ya could make sure he's alright, let him cheer ya up for a while. I don't ever see ya happy anymore, Bud."

"Ain't got anythin' t' be happy about," he retorted, shoving the drawer shut. Realizing how that sounded, he tried to fix it. "Not that you n Mama ain't done nothin' t' try t' make me happy! I just — I don't know, I can't be happy anymore. I don't know what's wrong wit' me, Poppy."

"There ain't nothin' wrong with ya, son."

"I heard what Mama said the other night," Bud said quickly. "'Bout me bein' diff'rent than usual n all. I know what she thinks it is. She thinks I've got somethin' wrong with my head, don't she?"

"She doesn't think you have somethin' wrong with your head," Ran'l sighed tiredly. "She just thinks you should talk t' Doc about it."

"What d'you think?"

"I think you're just fine, that you're still not used t' Tolbert not bein' here all the time. I don't think ya should tell Doc about it. There ain't a thing wrong with you. Why tell him?"

"Why does she want me t' tell him?" Bud's brows furrowed.

"I don't know, son," Ran'l answered honestly. "All she did was mention it and she ain't brought it back up. I'm not gonna get int' that conversation if I don't have to. It's gonna lead to an argument."

"Oh."

"But don't ya worry none, little man." Ran'l approached him and gently placed his hands on Bud's face. "You're perfect just the way ya are."

—

October 2013

Bud sat in his room, biting down on his lip. He looked at the phone in his right hand, the phone he'd received merely hours ago as a gift for his twelfth birthday, and released a shaky breath as he began to type out a text message.

Hey. I just want to say I'm really sorry. There's nothing you could've done to talk me out of it. I'm really, really sorry, Poppy. I love you.

He pressed send and shut off his phone, placing it on the nightstand before grabbing the pill bottle he'd managed to steal from the medicine cabinet in the upstairs bathroom. He loosened the lid and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart.

Bud had already made the decision that he didn't want to live anymore. Why was he so nervous? He'd thought it out, had planned it down to the last second. There was no reason for him to be nervous.

He huffed in annoyance at himself and removed the lid, dumping some of the pills into his hand. It wasn't like he had anything to lose.

Bud didn't want to live in a world without Tolbert.

—

Jim sat beside his father in the waiting room, swallowing past the lump in his throat. Jim had never heard his father scream like that before; a scream filled with agony and pain and fear. He'd never really seen his father frightened before either, hadn't really seen the man cry. Or at least, he couldn't remember seeing Ran'l cry.

Jim excused himself and stood up, leaving the waiting room and going to the elevator. He went down to the first floor and swallowed thickly as he walked through the lobby, going outside and wiping at his eyes.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing Tolbert's number.

"Jim? What's wrong?" Fear was prominent in Tolbert's voice.

"Bert, Bud's tried t' kill himself," Jim whispered hoarsely. "He overdosed on some kind of medicine he found in the cabinet. Oh God, Bert!"

Jim crouched down, trying to control his emotions. He didn't like his emotions going haywire.

"Oh my God. Oh my God. Is he alright?!"

"I don't know," Jim admitted, sniffling. "I just — I came down t' call you and... oh God, Tolbert, I've never felt so scared in my life. I don't know what's goin' on with him, we ain't heard nothin' yet."

"Why the heck did he do it?" Tolbert asked with a trembling voice.

"We — we don't know. All—all Poppy got was a text sayin' that he was sorry n that he couldn't-a done anythin' t' talk him outta it an' that he loved him. He ain't b-been actin' right lately, but P—oppy swore he was fine."

It scared Tolbert to hear his older brother sound so frightened and worried. He'd never had Jim explain something to him in an anxious ramble before. Jim always knew what to do; he always knew the answers to Tolbert's questions, and Tolbert didn't like him not knowing them.

"Listen, I'm — I'm gonna try t' get a leave. I'll say it's a fam'ly emergency 'cause it is. Oh God, I just... I can't stay here knowin' he could be dyin'."

"There's — there's a good chance he won't die. He's got me real scared, Bert."

"I know. If I can get a leave, I'll see ya soon, okay?"

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you too."

—

Bud groaned as he awoke, slowly forcing his eyes open. It took a few moments for his bleary vision to focus, his eyes landing on Calvin, who sat in the chair beside his bed. Bud blinked and licked his lips, his other senses slowly returning.

He could hear the heart monitor beside his bed beeping at a steady pace. He could feel Calvin's hands clasped around his, and he could feel the scratchy material of the hospital gown against his skin.

He'd failed.

Tears welled in his eyes as he shook his head, wondering why he hadn't succeeded. There was no reason he shouldn't have succeeded at this.

"Hey, Buddy," Calvin spoke up, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Ya really scared us."

Bud's eyes shifted over to Calvin, but he didn't say anything.

"My God, why would ya do somethin' like that?"

Bud gave a shrug. He knew why, but if he hadn't been told about Tolbert's demise, it was likely the others didn't know anything about it either. He wouldn't be the one to tell them.

"L-listen, I'm gonna go let Jim come in. He really wants t' talk t' you."

He let his head loll to the side, his eyes flicking around the room and finding it to be boring. Bud had never liked hospitals and he didn't like being trapped in a hospital room either. He wondered how long he'd be stuck there when he noticed someone walking in the room.

"Bud, oh my God," Jim muttered, hurrying over to him. "Ya scared me, honey."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No, baby, it's okay. It's okay 'cause you're gonna be okay. Oh God, baby, don't scare me like that again," Jim rambled, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his baby brother into a tight embrace. He kissed his temple and held him, not wanting to let him go now that he knew he was going to be okay.

"I'm really sorry," Bud whimpered. "I jus' don't wanna live no more."

"Why?"

"Jus' don't. Not like I'm important or worth anything anyways. Ya'd be better off without me."

"No, I wouldn't be. I love you so much, Buddy. You're very important, ya hear me? You're so important t' me, t' all of us. You're important t' Tolbert."

Bud's chest caved with a heartbroken sob, him clinging to Jim.

"Bud? Honey, what's wrong? I want t' help, but I can't do that if ya don't talk t' me."

"T-Tolbert," he sobbed, drawing in a wheezing breath.

"What about him, baby?"

"H-he's d-dead, isn't he?"

"Oh no, honey, no. Tolbert's just fine, I talked to him earlier."

"Why — why hasn't he come home then? It's been three y-years!"

"'Cause they tell him he can't. He'll get approved for a leave, someone will have a family emergency or a death in their family or somethin' like that, an' they tell Tolbert he has t' stay. He wants t' come home, baby, he wants t' be here with ya. Here, I'll show ya."

Jim pulled out his phone and called Tolbert.

"Jim? Is he okay?! Is he—"

"Tolbert, slow down! He's fine. He's right here, he's still breathing."

"Bud's okay? He's not gonna die?"

"No, he's not gonna die. Tried mighty hard, but he didn't."

"Oh, thank God," Tolbert breathed. "Listen, I'll be home next week. I got approved for a leave and — and I swear, Jim, he's gonna get sick of lookin' at me."

"I doubt it's possible," Jim smirked in amusement, using his free hand to caress Bud's face. "Hang on a second."

Jim held the phone out to Bud, who bit on his lip before hesitantly taking it.

"Jim? Hello?"

"Tolbert?" he whispered meekly, almost as though he hadn't believed Jim when he'd told him that Tolbert was fine.

"Bud? Oh my God, baby. Hey, listen, I know — I know I've lied before, that I ain't been home in a real long time, but I swear, Bud, I'm comin' home this time. I am so sorry I lied t' you. I never meant to—"

"It's okay. You don't have t' apologize."

"Yes, I do. I feel like I do. I love you so much, darlin'. What'd ya do that for?"

"I... I thought you were dead," he confessed. "I just — I don't wanna live without you."

"Honey, where on earth did ya get that idea?"

"I thought — I thought Mama n Poppy were jus' tryin' t' keep it from me. I thought that was why ya ain't come home in three years."

"Oh, no, Buddy, no. I've wanted t' come home the last three years, I really have. It's just changed on me every time I thought I was gonna get t' come home. Why didn't ya just talk t' me? Or ask Jim? Ya know he won't lie to ya."

"I d-dunno. R-reckon I thought they'd do somethin' t' make me think you was okay since they weren't gonna tell me y' died. I dunno what I thought."

"That's okay, baby. It's been really hard for you, I know that. I'm sorry I haven't had the chance t' keep my promises. But I promise that this time, I'm comin' home. I'm so sorry, baby. If I'd known ya thought that, I woulda sent ya a letter or somethin'."

"'S fine."

"It's obviously not fine, Bud."

"I don't know why I did that," he croaked, his throat closing up.

"And that's okay. That's okay, Bud. When I come home next week, we'll sit down n talk about it, okay?"

"Okay. I love ya."

"I love ya too, baby. I'll see ya next week."

"Okay."

"I've gotta go. I love you."

"I love ya too."

Bud handed the phone back to Jim and sniffled.

"Why didn't ya tell me ya thought he was dead? I would've let you call him yourself," Jim murmured, pulling his fingers through Bud's long brunette hair.

"I just... I don't know. Reckon I thought that you wouldn't know either," he responded quietly, his voice trembling. "I'm real sorry. I don't know what got int' me."

"It's alright, Bud, it's alright. They're gonna keep ya a few days t' see if they can figure out what triggered it, but it's gonna be fine. One of us will be here as often as we can be."

"Why do I have t' stay here?"

"They're probably jus' gonna run a few tests or somethin' like that. I'm gonna be honest, Bud, I really think if ya woulda told Doc 'bout the way you were feelin' an' all that when it first started, ya wouldn't've done what ya did."

"But Poppy said—"

"I know what Poppy said, honey. I know that both of ya wanted t' believe that nothin' was diff'rent, but we all noticed it, Bud. Reckon I had a little too much hope that the thought of suicide would never cross your mind. I should've talked t' you when I noticed it."

"It's fine," Bud said swiftly. "This was my fault, no one else's. I didn't wanna live when I did it, Jim."

"I know. But listen ta me, a'ight? This family needs you. Tolbert McCoy needs you more than any of us do. If you ever get t' where ya feel that way again and ya don't wanna talk t' Tolbert for whatever reason ya may have, call me. Text me. I'll come pick you up and we'll sit on a backroad where no one'll bother us and talk about it. I want t' help you. But t' do that, Bud, ya've gotta let me help."

"I know that," his voice dropped in volume. "It's just really hard for me t' bother anybody when I know they have more important things—"

"Hey, nothing is more important than you," Jim stated firmly. "Why would ya think something like that?"

"'Cause it's true?" Bud's eyes flicked up and met Jim's. "I'm not very important, Jim. I know that, I'm okay with it. I don't — I don't think 's very important t' tell anyone what I think about or how I feel. I don't wanna bother — oh my God, I'm sorry."

"Nonono, keep talking. Let me help you," Jim pleaded with him. "Just until Tolbert gets home. Then you can tell Tol all of this."

"I don't wanna bother him either!" Bud exclaimed.

"Buddy, you could never bother any of us. We wanna help, we do, but we can't do anything t' help if we don't know what's wrong."

Bud looked uncertain, lowering his gaze to his lap. He didn't want to bother anybody. He hadn't meant to scare anybody, either.

"Ya wanna talk to me?"

"I don't even know how I feel, Jim," he confessed. "It's like it's all just one big bundled up mess and I can't figure out how I feel."

"And that's okay. We can sit here and figure it out if you want to, I don't care. I ain't got any place t' be. I'm gonna stay here with ya t'night. We can talk all ya want."

"Thanks, Jim."

"Yer welcome, Buddy."

—

November 2013

Tolbert made his way through the airport, his eyes landing on Jim. He rushed over to him, hugging his older brother tightly.

"Hey, baby," Jim mumbled. "How ya doin'?"

"I've been worryin' a lot. How d'ya think I'm doin'?"

"I know. He gave us all a good scare, didn't he?"

Tolbert slowly nodded.

"Where is he?"

"He's still in the hospital. I told him I had t' go run a few errands and that I'd pick up a burger and some fries for him 'cause he refuses t' eat the hospital food."

"Can't say I blame him," Tolbert chuckled. "I wouldn't eat it either."

"But I gotta tell ya, Tolbert, they're startin' t' give him Symbyax. The way it looks, that's the only thing that's gonna work on him."

"That's awful strong for a twelve-year-old."

"I know, but... I don't think he'd be on Symbyax if he woulda listened t' Mama and told Doc about it when it started. We all knew somethin' was off, but he wouldn't say anything t' Doc 'cause Poppy told him he didn't think he needed to and that it was up t' him."

Tolbert hummed, falling into pace beside his older brother.

"But after stopping somewhere t' get him something t' eat, we go straight t' the hospital. They're mostly keepin' him t' see how he's gonna react t' the medicine they're puttin' him on. Said he'll likely be out day after t'morrow."

"Good. I don't think I've ever been this scared, Jim. I've never heard anything that just made my heart stop beatin' for a minute. I didn't know he thought I was dead or I woulda found some way t' show him I wa'n't."

"I know ya would've. Heck, I woulda let him call you from my phone if I knew he thought that. He didn't tell anybody. He's been grieving for over a year 'cause he thought Mama n Poppy were just tryin' t' hide it from him."

"Reckon I've got a lot t' catch up on?" Tolbert turned his head toward Jim.

"Yeah, you've got a lot t' catch up on."

—

Bud looked up as the door opened, expecting to see Jim.

"Tolbert!"

He got up and ran over to him, hugging him tightly.

"Oh my God, Tolbert!"

"Hey, baby," he laughed softly, pressing a kiss to Bud's temple. Bud stood even with his shoulders now, much to Tolbert's surprise. He hadn't seen him in (almost) four years, Tolbert didn't know why he'd expected him to be short. "Ya feelin' better?"

Bud nodded mutely. He felt much better now that he'd talked about it and knew that Tolbert was okay.

Bud's eyes scanned Tolbert, noticing that he had shaved.

"You shaved," he laughed a little, reaching out and touching Tolbert's face.

"Yeah," Tolbert nodded. "Ya like it?"

"No, I didn't say that. But... but ya look good. Ya don't look hurt or nothin', ya look jus' fine. Ya like kinda funny without yer beard, Tol."

"'Cause you're used t' seein' me with it?"

"Mhm."

"Well, I could say ya look kinda funny bein' as tall as ya are with long hair," Tolbert quipped. "I'm used t' you standin' at my stomach, not my shoulder. So, who ended up bein' the short one? I know he ain't the shortest no more."

"Pharmer," Ran'l replied with a laugh.

"Oh really?" Tolbert grinned, his blue eyes shining brightly. "I always thought he'd end up bein' kinda tall."

"Bud passed him up last year," Jim snorted, moving past them and sitting down. "I got ya some food, kiddo. Even got ya a milkshake."

"Oh my God, I love you," Bud muttered, shuffling over to Jim. Jim tried to suppress a laugh, handing the boy the paper bag and the cup. "Want somethin'?"

"Nah, kid. You ain't ate t'day."

"Poppy? Tol?"

"I'm good," Tolbert chuckled.

"I've gotta go. I'm sure I can trust the three of you?" Ran'l shot them all a look.

"We'll be fine, Poppy. Not like we can do anything in here anyways," Bud scoffed, sitting down on his bed.

Ran'l rolled his eyes and left, leaving the three boys alone.

"So... so when d'ya have t' go back this time?" Bud's eyes flicked up toward Tolbert before he swiftly averted his gaze again. "An' how long will it be b'fore I see you again?"

Tolbert sighed heavily (almost dramatically) and sat down in front of him.

"Well, I hate t' break it to ya, Buddy, but ya ain't gonna get rid of me this time." Bud's head whipped up. "I'm stayin' here. You're gonna get sick of lookin' at me."

"Y-you — you're not gonna go back?" Bud asked softly, his voice bordering a whisper.

"No," Tolbert shook his head. "I retired from the army this time. Spendin' four years over there was enough for me."

"Ya won't leave me again?"

"No, baby, I won't leave ya again," Tolbert assured him. "I swear, Bud, you're gonna get sick of lookin' at me."

"Unlikely," Jim snorted.

"Yeah," Bud nodded in agreement, laughing a little. "'S prob'ly gonna be t' other way around."

—

Tolbert and Jim had left after Roseanna arrived. It was agreed that Tolbert would go home, put his clothes away and shower while he was there before coming back and staying with Bud.

"You enjoy scarin' me outta my wits?" Roseanna quipped as she sat on the bed beside him, playing with his long hair.

"That wasn't my intention."

"No. Your intention was t' die."

Bud exhaled deeply through his nostrils, his eyes meeting her's for a split second. He licked his lips and glanced at her again.

"Y-yeah," he admitted quietly. "I wanted t' die."

"Why?" Roseanna whispered.

"I thought... I thought Tolbert was dead. I didn't wanna live without him. I mean, it ain't like I'm important anyways. Ya'd be better off without me, all of ya would. I don't know why ev'ryone's actin' like they care so much. I'm just... not important. I'm not good enough. I never have been n I never will be. I'm sorry I failed."

"Hey, stop that," she commanded shakily. "And what about us, huh? What about the ones that want ya here, Bud? Does your existence really depend on Tolbert that much?!"

Bud hung his head, closing his eyes and opting to stay silent. He blanched when Roseanna drew her hand back, letting it fall to her lap.

"And what're ya gonna do when he really does die, Bud? Ya gonna OD again? Are ya just gonna live in his shadow all your life?"

"Stop," he mumbled.

"What about if the two of ya get into it an' he don't wanna talk t' you for a while? Ya gonna do this again? Are ya gonna sit around n try t' kill yourself every time somethin' happens with Tolbert?!"

"Stop it!" Bud raised his voice. "It's not all about Tolbert. Can't ya see that I'm worthless?! That I ain't no good for anybody in this dagon family?! Why can't you understand that? Why do ya have t' throw it up t' me that I didn't want t' live without Tolbert? None of ya want me, I know ya don't!"

"What the heck are ya talkin' about?! Of course, we want you!"

"No, ya don't," he chuckled bitterly. "Ya don't want me. Ya just don't want me gettin' rid of myself so none of ya feel guilty about it."

"What are you talkin' about?! We love you very much, Bud. We don't want you killin' yourself because we love you and we want you here. We want ya with us, Bud!"

"There ain't no reason for anybody t' want me, Roseanna! Lord knows I ain't ever done anythin' t' make anyone proud. All I've done my entire life is cause trouble. I wish I never woulda sent that dagon text t' Poppy. He never woulda found me if I hadn't sent him that dagon text!"

"What are ya talkin' about?" Roseanna lowered her voice, her brows knitting together. "You've made us proud, ya ain't caused no trouble. We love you, Bud, we really do. We don't want you dead."

"They don't want me dead 'cause I'm a free babysitter," he grumbled. "That's it. That's all I'm good for, Rose! Oh, forget it! You're never gonna understand."

"Then help me understand!" she exclaimed. "Can't ya see I don't want ya dead, Buddy? I don't know what I'd do without ya."

She brought a hand up and gently rubbed the side of his face, Bud subconsciously leaning into her touch. He'd never felt so many emotions at the same time and it was getting to him.

"You'd have a better life," he whispered hoarsely. "Ya don't need someone like me. No one needs me, I know that. Accepted it a long time ago. What diff'rence does it make when I'm constantly messin' somethin' up an' tickin' someone off?"

"Ev'rybody gets ticked off ev'ry now and then, Bud. Don't mean we don't need ya."

"Someone's always ticked off at me," he confessed tearfully. "Don't care what I say or what I do, someone's always ticked off at me in this dagon fam'ly. I jus' don't feel right, ya know? I don't feel like I b'long here anymore."

"Can I... can I try t' explain this to ya?"

"Sure, knock yourself out."

"The boys are usually mad at someone else n take it out on you. I tell 'em all the time t' stop doin' that 'cause they ain't got no good reason for it, but they don't ever listen t' me. Heck, Bud, I'm guilty of doin' that to ya. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Yer makin' it out like ya did somethin' terr'ble n ya ain't done a thing."

"Bud, no one should treat you that way."

"It's fine," he said quickly. "No one has t' apologize for the way they treat me. It's okay. There's nothin' t' apologize for."

"Yes, there is. I did wrong treatin' you that way. I never shoulda done that."

"It's fine. I don't blame ya one bit. I ain't nobody important, ain't got no reason t' even be here, yet somehow I manage t' mess up again and I'm still alive. I don't know how I messed that up."

"I've never heard Poppy scream the way he did when he found ya. Just — just so much fear and pain in a scream that came from someone I've always seen as someone who's fearless. I've never heard him pray like that, either. Jus' beggin' God t' let you live, that he was sorry he'd convinced ya that nothin' was wrong with ya an' ya shouldn't've told anybody anything."

Bud turned his head, his face expressionless as he listened to her.

"An' now that I think on it, I'd never seen him cry b'fore that. Or at least, I don't remember ever seeing him cry. He's gotten himself into a habit of tellin' all of us that he loves us ev'ry time we see him. An' he hugs us, kisses our cheek or our forehead, just... so diff'rent from how Poppy usually is."

Bud bit down on his lip and gazed at her.

"So... so what yer sayin' is that I broke him?" he murmured, wiping at his burning eyes. (They burned from all of the tears he'd shed earlier.)

"No, honey, no. He ain't broken. He's just actin' a little different right now. It's a good different, I like it. I think he's finally realized that ya shoulda told someone when ya started feelin' that way."

"You've always been his favorite," Bud mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest. "You will always be his fav'rite. Jus' like Tolbert will always be his fav'rite son and Mama's fav'rite outta all of us."

"What's that got t' do with anything? They still love every single one of us."

"Poppy's never come right out n said it to me, but I know he wants me t' be more like him. I'm his namesake, I should be more like him. I'm never gonna make him proud. I ain't done nothin' but bring shame to his name and... and I wouldn't blame him for regrettin' me. Or regrettin' givin' me his name. I can never be who he wants me t' be. It hurts. It hurts knowin' I'm never gonna live up t' Poppy's expectations of me. I can't help the way I am, though. I love him, I really do, but — he don't need a son like me, Rose. He needs someone more like him; someone that can make him proud. That's never gonna be me."

"Oh, Bud, honey, Poppy loves you so much. He don't care that ya ain't like him. And honestly, Bud, I don't know who his fav'rite son is. Why would ya think that Poppy ain't proud of you?"

"Ain't done nothin' t' make him proud," he gave a half-hearted shrug. "I certainly didn't make him proud when I overdosed. Ain't made him proud at all. It's okay, I know I ain't made anyone proud of me. Why would ya be proud of someone who's worthless?"

"You're not worthless. Ya make us proud all the time, Bud."

Bud, deciding not to argue anymore, said, "Whatever ya say, Roseanna."

—

Bud was released the next day. He'd been thrilled and had spent the rest of the week in the house, talking with Tolbert and helping Sally out when need be.

On Sunday, Bud stood in the parking lot after Sunday meeting, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. He'd decided to dress down that week, wearing a polo shirt and his nicest pair of jeans with his hair slicked back. His father had said it was alright, so Bud didn't think anything of it and went the way he was.

He didn't know how the women of the church heard about what he'd done. He didn't know how they knew everything that went on in the Tug Valley, but he didn't really care enough to try to figure it out either. All he knew was that they'd heard about it and now he was the topic of their gossip.

"Can ya believe him? Overdosing for no good reason. If he's that unhappy, I'd disown him and send him t' live with his brother!"

Bud involuntarily flinched. He didn't want to be disowned. He wanted to stay right where he was.

"Oh, he's just a kid. Ya know how kids are when they want attention. They go to extremes."

"Kid or not, I wouldn't have a boy like that in my house. Think of the younger children. What're they gonna think of him now that he's tried t' kill himself? And what about Ol' Ran'l? He's always been one that believes suicide is selfish."

"And it's not like Bud's done anything t' make him proud. I wouldn't care t' say Ran'l regrets him and that he regrets givin' him his name. He ain't done nothin' but bring shame to it. And with what he did, he'll never be able t' make Ran'l proud of him now. He's done nothing but prove he's a selfish, self-centered, spoiled brat."

Bud's throat constricted as he clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to keep from crying. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He was doing his best, but even that wasn't good enough.

Bud gasped sharply when someone placed a hand on his shoulder, his head whipping toward them. He relaxed when he saw Ran'l, swallowing thickly and averting his gaze. What if Ran'l did think he was selfish? Would it make him treat Bud differently than he did his siblings?

Bud's eyes snapped down to the ground in a vain attempt to hide the tears that glistened in them. He tightly folded his arms over his chest, his right hand subconsciously rubbing his left arm as he tried to focus on anything but his father.

"Bud? Hey, what's wrong, little man?" Ran'l queried, concern prominent in his tone.

"Nothin'," he responded swiftly. "I'm fine."

"Ya promised me ya'd talk t' me when somethin' was botherin' ya, Bud."

"It's nothin' that I wanna discuss where ev'ryone can hear," Bud lowered his voice.

"Well, I don't know about him bein' a selfish, self-centered, spoiled brat, but I do know that he's made himself a bad influence on his younger sisters. Who steals medicine outta the cabinet just so they can overdose after being completely fine that day?"

Ran'l sighed and wrapped his arms around Bud.

"They been talkin' 'bout ya?"

Bud nodded mutely.

"Why, if I was Ran'l, I'd disown him! A boy like that has no place around small chil'ren. First, it's something like this, and then it's finding something to "numb the pain". That boy don't know what pain is!"

Ran'l could see the way Bud fought to keep his face straight. He could see how hard he was trying to act like it didn't bother him.

"Why don't you go on t' the car, hm? I'll be there in a minute."

"Poppy—"

"Bud. Go to the car now. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

—

Bud had tucked himself against Ran'l's side, his head lying on his father's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Neither one of them had said anything in the five minutes Ran'l had been in Bud's room, both reluctant to break the silence that hovered over them. Bud didn't want to know what Ran'l thought of him and Ran'l didn't want to know the answers to his questions.

Bud was certain of one thing, though — if one of them didn't start a conversation soon, he was going to end up falling asleep. Ran'l was playing with his hair and it felt nice; it made him relax.

Ran'l glanced down at him before he scratched Bud's scalp, earning a content hum from the boy. Ran'l chuckled and kissed the crown of his head.

"That feel good or somethin'?" he teased lightheartedly. Bud only nodded in response. "So, ya wanna tell me what's goin' on in that head of yours?"

Bud shifted slightly and sighed heavily.

"Jus' been thinkin'," he murmured. "Nothin' important."

"That's funny. Roseanna told me ya said the same thing about yourself."

Bud tensed. Ran'l knew what he'd said at the hospital?

"Yeah, well, I ain't nothin' important either. I never have been. In a big fam'ly like ours, there's usually at least one person who ain't no good. I'm sorry, Poppy. I'm sorry I ain't no good."

"Hey, you're plenty of good and you're very important. I happen t' love ya just the way ya are. Why would ya think yer not important, hm?"

"'Cause I'm not? No one needs me. There's a lotta people swearin' that they want me here or whatever, but they don't seem t' realize that they don't. They jus' don't wanna feel guilty if I do get rid of m'self. I take the brunt of their anger when I ain't even done nothin', Poppy. They take it out on me when they get mad at someone else. I'm not important."

"You are very important, Randolph McCoy. Your older brother really needs you. Ya don't realize it, Bud, but you're helpin' him. He's focusing on you, not what he saw and heard overseas. You're helping him forget about it for a little while."

"Tolbert don't need me either. None of ya do. I'm no good for anybody in this family, Poppy, I know I'm not. No one needs me. It's okay, I know that an' I'm okay with it. I'm real sorry. I'm sorry for ev'rythin' I've done, Poppy. An' I'm so sorry I failed."

"Hey, no, don't apologize. Ya ain't done nothin' t' apologize for, little man. You're good for all of us. We want you n we need you, we love ya very much. Don't apologize for failin', Bud. I'm glad yer still alive."

"Why? Ain't like I've ever made ya proud," he scoffed.

"Ya make me proud all the time, Bud."

"It's a'ight, Poppy, y' ain't gotta lie t' me. I know ya ain't proud o' me. I know ya want me t' be more like ya. 'M sorry I ain't what ya want me t' be. I try, though. I try s' hard t' be more like you."

"Hey, I'm proud of ya, I really am. And I love you just the way ya are. Why on earth would ya think I don't love ya this way?"

"I don't know. I've heard ya talkin' t' Mama b'fore... heard ya say ya wish I was more like you. I've heard that about five times now. I'm tryin' t' be like you, Poppy. I want t' be like you."

Ran'l sighed heavily.

"Son, I don't want ya t' be anythin' that what ya are. Yer amazin' the way ya are, ya don't need t' change. Ya don't have t' try t' act like me, Buddy. I think yer jus' fine the way ya are."

"I don't feel that way. I feel completely worthless, Poppy."

"I wish ya didn't," Ran'l murmured. "I wish ya knew just how much ya mean to me, son. I'd tell ya, but I can't figure out how t' put it into words. But I love you. I love you a lot, Randolph McCoy. Ya make me proud t' be your Poppy every day. Ya make yer Mama n older brothers proud, too. Jim n Tolbert think the world of ya, Bud, and they are very proud of ya. They love ya t' death."

"Well... hopefully not t' death," Bud tried to joke. Ran'l chuckled and kissed the top of his head.

"You know what I mean."

"I know. I was tryin' t' be funny."

"It was kinda funny."

"Poppy, who's your fav'rite son?" Bud asked suddenly, catching his father off-guard.

"Why ya wanna know that?"

"Well... well, Roseanna's your fav'rite outta all of us. I think Tolbert's your fav'rite son. I already know he's Mama's fav'rite outta all of us. I don't know, I guess I jus' wanna know fer sure."

"Why d'ya think Tolbert's my fav'rite?" Ran'l questioned, continuing to pull his fingers through Bud's long locks of honey-brown hair.

"I dunno. He jus' seems t' be yer fav'rite," Bud shrugged.

"Well, he ain't. You are."

Bud lifted his head and looked up at him strangely.

"You messin' wit' me?"

"No," Ran'l shook his head. "I ain't messin' wit'cha, Buddy."

Bud placed his head on Ran'l's chest again, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around his father's middle.

"Not s' sure ya want me as yer fav'rite, Poppy. I can't make ya proud."

"You make me proud every day, Bud. I'm proud of you."

"Ain't nothin' t' be proud of. I'm a terr'ble son. Y-ya gave me your name n I ain't ever done nothin' but sh-shame it, I'm nothin' like what ya want me t' be, I'm nothin' but a bad influence on the girls n I'm selfish."

"Hey, you've never shamed my name, Bud. Ya ain't a bad influence on the girls and ya ain't selfish. You're a wonderful son, Bud McCoy. You're always the first one t' volunteer when me or your Mama needs help with somethin'. You make us proud without even realizin' yer doin' it. It's the little things ya do, Buddy. Ya don't have t' go move a mountain t' make us proud of you. Don't listen t' what them women say about you, son. You're anything but selfish, Bud.

"And I hope that one of these days, you see yourself the way I see you — a good-hearted boy that deserves the world. You're one of my best kids, Bud. Just because you did what ya did don't mean yer selfish. It don't mean that yer a bad influence or that you're a terrible son. You're not any of those things. You're my baby boy, Bud, and ya don't have t' be just like me t' make me proud. I'm proud of ya the way ya are now. And I love you. I love ya more than ya could ever imagine, kiddo. Ya gave me a good scare."

"'M sorry, Poppy," he murmured, his voice trembling terribly.

"It's okay, Buddy. It's okay 'cause you're still alive. Ya've got ya somethin' that's gonna help ya with it an' yer still tryin' t' get used t' it. It's gonna take a lil while 'fore it gets t' be better when it comes t' yer thoughts n all that. An' even after ya get used t' the medicine, yer gonna have some real rough days. Talk t' one of us when ya have bad days, Bud. We wanna help ya, son, but we can't if ya don't talk to us."

"Mkay, Poppy. I promise I will."

"I love ya, Buddy."

"I love y' too, Poppy."

—

"Mama, have you seen Bud?" Tolbert asked as he entered the kitchen, grabbing a cookie off of the plate.

"He's upstairs in y'all's room. Yer Poppy's up there too."

"Thank ya," Tolbert grinned. He took a bite of the cookie in his hand. "Really good, by the way."

"Thanks," Sally laughed, watching him run off.

Tolbert went upstairs and opened the door to the room, finding both his father and his little brother sleeping soundly. He huffed in amusement and shook his head, deciding to leave them alone.

—

December 2013

Tolbert looked up as Jim entered the room. Jim closed the door and made his way over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it.

"So, how'd it go t'day?"

"Oh God, Jim, the place is gorgeous," Tolbert spoke softly, as Bud was curled against him, sleeping.

"Ya gonna buy it?" Jim quirked a brow.

"...I might," he admitted. "I mean, it's nothin' 'gainst Bud! Lord knows I love the boy more than anythin', but... but I need my own place, Jim."

Bud stirred and Tolbert looked down at him, relaxing when he saw that he still appeared to be asleep.

"Hey, I get it. I know ya love him, Bert, but ya can't spend the rest of yer life in this dagon house 'cause of it. Get ya a place of yer own. Yer gonna drive yourself crazy if ya don't, Tolbert."

"It feels... I don't know, Jim. I don't even know how it feels. I jus' want t' get outta here, y'know? Be on my own, have my own place. That's all I want."

"And ya have ev'ry right t' want that, Tolbert. Yer old enough t' move out on your own if ya want. They can't stop ya."

"I know. It's just—"

"It's just that ya can't decide if that's what ya think is best or not. This is about you n no one else. Forget 'bout ev'ryone else for a minute n make a decision fer you."

Tolbert hung his head, rubbing Bud's arm absentmindedly. Jim noticed and sighed, gently smacking the side of Tolbert's head.

"Ya can't make every decision based on what he wants, Bert."

"I never said—"

"I know what's keepin' ya from buyin' a place n movin' out of here. Well, maybe I should say who. Buy a dang house, Tolbert. He can come over an' stay with ya. You don't have t' stay here if ya don't want to."

"I don't want t' do him like that," Tolbert muttered, looking down at the sleeping twelve-year-old. "I don't want him thinkin' I don't wanna be around him."

"Then take him with you t' look at it again. Get his opinion on it if ya want, I don't really care. Ya still have the key, don't ya?"

"Yeah. Didn't have the chance t' take it back 'cause I had t' pick him up from school."

"Then take him t' look at it t'morrow. Trust me, Tolbert, if he knew you were only gonna move five minutes down the road, he wouldn't care."

Tolbert exhaled deeply, licking his lips and nodding.

"A'ight. We'll try it."

—

That evening, Tolbert had called the real estate agent and explained the situation to him. The man had been understanding and had agreed to let Tolbert keep the key so he could show Bud the house the next morning.

So when Bud awoke the next morning and shuffled out of the room to go take a shower, Tolbert got up and dressed. Bud shuffled back in a few moments later, dressed in a white t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans.

"Hurry up n get your shoes on. I'm gonna take ya somewhere."

Bud's brows furrowed.

"Where?"

"You'll find out when we get there. Shoes n phone, come on."

Tolbert's hand clapped his shoulder before Tolbert left the room. He went downstairs, whistling, and nearly collided with his father.

"Well, you're in a good mood," Ran'l remarked.

"For now. Might not be when we get back."

"Why not?" Ran'l asked.

"Gonna take him n show him that house 'm thinkin' 'bout buyin'. It's just... I dunno, Poppy, it just don't feel right here anymore."

"I know. Anytime he wants t' come over, or you want him t' come over, he can go. I don't care. Ya don't have t' have his approval for everything, Tolbert," Ran'l pointed out.

"I reckon not," Tolbert mused, the corner of his lip turning upward. "But it's nice t' know that he knows he can come over whenever he wants. And really, I don't mean t' be rude when I say it, but his opinion is the only one I really care about. I want his opinion on the place."

Ran'l couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Ya ain't bein' rude, Tolbert. Yer bein' honest. There's a diff'rence, son."

Bud came downstairs then, his eyes flicking between Tolbert and Ran'l.

"Hey, kiddo. Ya ready?"

"Guess so."

"That's good enough," Tolbert shrugged, heading toward the door. "We'll be back later, Poppy."

"Alright."

—

"Why're you pullin' off here?" Bud inquired, looking over at Tolbert.

"'Cause we're gonna go look at this house."

Tolbert heard Bud let out a shaky breath.

"You movin' out?"

"I'm thinkin' about it."

"Why?" Bud demanded.

"Because it doesn't feel like I belong there anymore," Tolbert replied, shutting off the engine to his truck. "But that don't mean a thing. You can come stay when ya want, as long as ya want. I don't care if ya practically live with me. What I do care about is your opinion on the place. So, here's the key. Go unlock the door for me, will ya?"

Bud nodded and took the key, sliding out of the truck and heading for the front door. Tolbert got out as well and pocketed his keys, catching up with Bud.

"Why do you want my opinion?" Bud glanced up at him.

"Because I happen t' care about your opinion. Don't really care 'bout anyone else's. Well, maybe Jim, Mama, n Poppy, but I care about yours the most."

"Why?" Bud laughed breathlessly.

"'Cause yer my fav'rite an' I want t' know what you think?"

"You're ridiculous sometimes, you know that?"

Bud unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping inside.

"Woah. I've never seen a house so... empty."

"'Cause ya ain't ever been out t' look at houses. Jim took me with him when he started lookin' for a place of his own."

Tolbert closed the door and motioned for Bud to follow him, leading him to the kitchen first.

"Oh, really? Why'd he do that?"

"I don't really know, kiddo. Reckon he just didn't want t' go on his own."

"Mmm..."

"Anyways, let me show ya the rest of the house. I think you'll like it."

—

"'S a nice place, Tol."

"I thought it was," Tolbert shrugged. "And it's what, maybe five minutes away? I can easily come get ya any time ya wanna come over."

"Yeah? Y' promise?"

"I promise. And hey, you're almost old enough t' drive yourself. But even then, if ya ever get t' where ya jus' don't feel like drivin', text me or call me. I don't care."

"Okay. It's... weird."

"Weird that I'm movin' out?" Tolbert glanced at him, his eyes flicking back toward the road.

"Yeah," Bud nodded. "I don't — I don't know, it feels really weird knowin' that ya ain't gonna be there anymore."

"Honey, I'm not movin' out t'day. And I've at least gotta get a bed and all the lights workin'. And the water. So even if I do buy that house, you're still gon' have t' put up wit' me for a lil while."

Bud laughed softly, shaking his head.

"I don't put up with you. I like bein' around you. Ya don't treat me like I'm made of glass. Ya make me feel normal. And — and I know 'm not. There's nothin' normal about me, but ya make me feel like I'm jus' like ev'ryone else."

"I would never treat ya like yer made of glass. Even if ya broke every dagon bone in that body of yours, I wouldn't treat you like you're made of glass. And the heck are you talkin' 'bout, kid? You're normal."

"I don't — I've got somethin' wrong with my head. That's not normal," Bud argued.

"You have depression. It's a literal illness, Bud. Don't discredit it as somethin' that's wrong with your head. There is nothing wrong with the way ya are, Bud."

Bud looked over at him, shifting in his seat.

"I guess," he mumbled. "It feels that way, though. Ya know what the ladies at church said 'bout me?"

"What?" Tolbert's eyes flicked over and met his for a split second.

"They... they said that they wouldn't have a boy like me in their house. Said that I overdosed for no good reason an' that if I was that unhappy, they'd disown me n send me t' live wit' my brother, that I did it for attention. That Poppy's always thought suicide is selfish an' I'm a selfish, self-centered, spoiled brat. And I'm a bad influence on the girls. Said I ain't ever done nothin' t' make Poppy proud n that I never will; that I've done nothin' but shame his name.

"Apparently, I don't know what pain is. I don't know what it feels like t' have my heart shatter in my chest at the mere thought... Never mind."

Bud shifted again and sniffled.

"Those women never have known how t' mind their own dagon business. They think they're above everybody, honestly. They take somethin' an' twist it any way they want, no matter if it's the truth or not. I don't know how they found out about that... no one else knows about it."

"I'd say they do by now," Bud spoke softly. "They said I did it for no reason; that I was completely fine that day."

"Well, obviously you weren't or you wouldn't've done that," Tolbert stated, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "My heart completely stopped when Jim told me what happened. I'd never been so scared in my life, Bud. I wish I woulda known that ya thought that. I wish someone woulda told me you were actin' diff'rent. I would've found some way t' communicate with you."

"It's fine," Bud shook his head. "I reckon my brain overworks itself. I convinced myself that you were dead. I had myself convinced that the reason Poppy wasn't lettin' me talk t' ya an' the reason ya wasn't comin' home was b'cause you'd gotten killed and they didn't want t' tell me. So I grieved and I hid the grief as much as I could. And it became too much. So I decided t' kill myself. It didn't work. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not."

"It's a very good thing that it didn't work," Tolbert said swiftly. "I don't — God, I can't lose you. Ya don't know how much ya mean t' me, kiddo. I love you."

"Love ya too, Tol."

—

November 2017

Bud entered Tolbert's home and sighed, closing the door behind him. He walked down the hall to what he'd claimed as his bedroom, opening the door and flicking on the lights.

Tolbert had bought the house shortly after showing it to Bud. The place had two bedrooms and one bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. Compared to the house that Bud lived in currently, it was small, but he liked it. He preferred staying with Tolbert most nights.

There was no commotion in the middle of the night because one of his brothers had decided to try to get down the stairs in the dark, no one sneaking into his room without him knowing it and scaring him out of his wits, and no one giving him wary looks every time he went to his room or went to the bathroom.

Tolbert trusted him. There was no other explanation for it than that — Tolbert trusted him while his parents were still wary about it. Jim trusted him as well, had even tried to reason with their parents that it had been nearly four years and Bud was talking to Tolbert about everything. There wasn't anything Tolbert didn't know about his younger brother now that he'd come back home.

Bud wasn't sure why he trusted Tolbert as much as he did; maybe it was because he knew that Tolbert would keep his word and wouldn't breathe a word about it to another living soul. Maybe it was because Tolbert had never given Bud a reason not to trust him. Or maybe it was because of the bond between them — a special bond that Bud didn't feel with any of his other brothers, no matter how much he loved them. There was a bond between him and Tolbert that he didn't feel with anyone else.

He wasn't sure why he felt the bond with Tolbert, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Tolbert was trustworthy and he didn't judge Bud on the bad days. He usually let him curl up against him or just sat in Bud's room and talked with him, trying to help him as much as he could. There were days that Bud felt that he couldn't get out of bed, that he couldn't get up long enough to take a shower or eat. And Tolbert was always there, trying to help as much as he could when Bud felt that way.

Bud bit down on his lip as he sat down on the bed, his eyes flicking toward the door. He had the sinking feeling that it was going to be a bad night, and while he didn't want to bother Tolbert with his petty problems, he felt that he had to keep the true extent of his depression hidden from the rest of the family.

It wasn't that they'd done anything to make him feel that way — it was that Bud wasn't comfortable with them knowing just how much he struggled every day. He wasn't comfortable with his older brothers and younger sisters giving him odd looks when he felt like staying in bed all day long, he wasn't comfortable with talking about it to Ran'l and Sally, he wasn't comfortable with crying in front of any of them. He wasn't comfortable showing how he truly felt around them.

"Hey, baby," Tolbert greeted, leaning against the doorway. "What're you thinkin' 'bout?"

"Lotta things," Bud murmured in response. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Ya know ya can, Buddy."

"D'ya think Poppy'd get mad at me if he found out I've been hidin' how bad it really is from him?"

"I think he might be a little upset, but he'd understand. Believe it or not, Bud, Poppy understands. He probably knows ya ain't bein' completely honest with him an' there ain't a thing wrong with it. You talk t' people you're comfortable with. I don't care who it is, Bud, they have no right t' force ya t' talk if ya don't want to."

"I dunno, Tol, I'm just... I'm not comfortable talkin' t' anyone but you about it. I don't — I don't know why 'm like that. It bothers me, it bothers me so bad. I jus' wanna feel like I can talk t' anybody I want to, but I don't. I don't feel like I can talk t' my own parents, Tol!"

Tolbert crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling Bud close and wrapping his arms around him tightly.

"Hey, you're okay," Tolbert cooed softly. "It's okay, baby. You don't have t' feel like you can talk t' ev'rybody. Maybe one or two people. It's okay, Bud, you don't have t' feel bad for the way ya feel."

Bud leaned against Tolbert, closing his eyes when Tolbert started to pull his fingers through his hair.

"I feel so bad," Bud mumbled, his voice trembling. "They didn't do anythin' t' make me feel this way. I should feel like I can talk to my parents about anything, but I don't, and I feel so bad for it."

"Don't feel bad for it, Buddy. You have the right t' talk to whoever you wanna talk to. It don't have t' be Mama n Poppy, or Jim, or me. It's whoever you're comfortable with. Heck, if ya wanted t' talk t' Ali n Rose, they'd gladly listen to ya. It don't matter who you talk to, Bud. We just want t' make sure you're okay."

"I talk t' Pharmer sometimes," Bud admitted. "He never tells anybody anythin' I tell him. I talk t' him when I don't wanna bother you."

"Ya don't bother me, Bud. I want t' help you. So does Jim n Pharmer n everyone else in this crazy family of ours. If ya ever find that ya can't talk to me or Pharmer, talk t' someone else. They won't tell anybody. They know ya don't want 'em to."

Bud hummed, taking hold of Tolbert's hand and tracing imaginary designs on the back of it.

"It scares me sometimes."

"What does?"

"The thought of not knowin' who t' talk to. I'm not sure what I'll do if you n Pharmer get mad at me at the same time. You're the only two I talk to."

"Well, let's hope it never comes t' that. Even if I am mad at ya, you can still talk to me. I won't ever say ya can't talk to me, Buddy. It scares me too. The thought of losing you scares me more than anythin'."

"I'm sorry I gave you a reason t' be scared."

"I was worried about that long before you had your suicide attempt," Tolbert told him, his grip tightening slightly. "Guess I have the tendency t' worry for no good reason."

"That's okay. I do it too. I can convince myself of somethin' in less than five minutes. Like someone's in the house or somethin' like that. I've done it before when I was home by myself. I don't get left home anymore, though. Poppy don't trust me yet."

"It's not that he doesn't trust you. It's just that he's scared, Bud. He don't wanna lose ya either, baby. You're his little man," Tolbert teased lightheartedly, earning a huff and an eye roll from Bud.

"I ain't little. 'M nearly as tall as you n Jim!"

Tolbert laughed at him, ducking his head and kissing the boy's temple.

"Yeah, you're gettin' tall, kiddo. I love you."

"That was random, but I love you too, weirdo."

"Be nice."

"That is bein' nice, old man."

"Hey!"

—

Bud gasped sharply as he awoke, lurching to a sitting position. He threw the covers off and hurried out of the room, going down the hall and opening the door to Tolbert's room.

To his surprise, Tolbert was propped up against the headboard, the light from his TV being the only light in the room.

"Hey, baby. You okay?" Tolbert's face pinched into a concerned expression.

"Y-yeah, yeah," Bud nodded swiftly. "I just... I'm sorry. I didn't know you were awake."

"Does that make a diff'rence?" Tolbert quirked a brow.

"Reckon not," he forced out, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"C'mere," Tolbert instructed, stretching out his arm.

Bud hesitantly approached and climbed on the bed, tucking himself against Tolbert's side.

"So, what were ya doin' peekin' in my room?" Tolbert asked as he adjusted the covers.

"I was jus' makin' sure yer okay," he admitted, his face flushed a vibrant pink.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?"

"It was just a stupid dream, I'm sorry. I just... I had t' make sure you were okay, Tol."

"That's okay, baby," Tolbert assured him. "I understand the dreams. There's times I wake up in the middle of the night n check on you 'cause of a dream that I had."

"It makes me feel ridiculous. A dream shouldn't scare me that much."

"An' sometimes yer mind plays a trick on ya an' ya don't know if it was real or not," Tolbert countered. "I don't mind ya comin' in here. Even if it's jus' 'cause ya can't sleep or ya don't wanna be alone."

"Hey, Tol."

"Hm?"

"You're amazing," Bud breathed, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. "'M real tired."

"Then go t' sleep. I don't mind ya stayin' in here."

"Thanks. Love you."

"Love you too, baby."

—

Bud ended up sleeping with his back facing Tolbert. He had one arm stuffed under his pillow, the other tucked against his chest, holding the covers in place.

What he didn't expect was to wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of someone pulling in the driveway. Without a second thought, he reached behind him and smacked at Tolbert, causing his older brother to jerk awake.

"What?" Tolbert mumbled, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand.

"Listen," Bud whispered.

Tolbert shot his baby brother an odd look before hearing someone knock on the front door.

"Stay here, you understand me?"

"Mhm."

Tolbert got up and left the room, closing the door behind him. Bud's heart raced in his chest, a thousand thoughts crossing his mind, and not one of them being good. Bud tried to believe that it was nothing; that whoever was at the door was someone they knew, but he just couldn't force himself to believe it.

Bud sat up, turning on the lamp that sat on the nightstand. He wouldn't move; he'd told Tolbert that he wouldn't move.

The door opened to reveal Tolbert and Roseanna, the latter drenched from the storm that raged outside.

"Rosie?" Bud blinked. "The heck are you doin' out in this?!"

He got up and rushed over to her.

"Didn't know where else t' go," she whispered so softly, Bud barely heard her. "Johnse... he don't want me anymore."

"Oh, Rosie," he breathed, pulling his older sister into a tight hug.

"Bud, you're gonna—"

"I don't care. Oh my God, Rose, what happened?"

"I don't really know. I was just told I had to leave and... and I know Poppy wouldn't be very happy with me showin' up this late, so I thought..."

"I'll get ya some dry clothes," Bud murmured. "You can sleep in my room."

"What? No—"

"I was sleepin' in here anyways. It's a really bad night for both of us, huh?"

"Reckon so," she murmured.

"Hey, don't cry. He ain't worth it."

Roseanna coughed a laugh, wiping at her tears.

"God, I love you, kid."

"I thought you were s'pposed t' hate me," Bud quipped as he moved past her, earning another laugh.

"See, I told ya I knew how t' cheer ya up a little," Tolbert remarked.

Bud rolled his eyes and went into his room, flicking the light switch and going over to his dresser. He found a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, pulling them out before returning to Roseanna and Tolbert.

"Here ya go."

"Thank ya, darlin'," Roseanna smiled sadly.

"No problem, Rose."

—

Three uneventful days passed. Bud was still staying with Tolbert, as was Roseanna, who had gone back to Johnse's double-wide trailer and gotten her belongings. Bud didn't mind sleeping in Tolbert's room; he and Tolbert stayed up late talking about anything and everything, just like they used to.

When Bud returned home that evening, he found Roseanna in the kitchen. The first thing he noticed was her pallor; Roseanna was pale, but she wasn't that pale. Her complexion rivaled a ghost's at that moment. Her hair was messy and pulled back in a messy bun, her eyes unfocused as she stared at the surface of the table.

"Rosie?"

Roseanna gasped as her eyes snapped up, meeting Bud's.

"Oh. Hey, Bud."

"You alright?"

"No," she answered honestly, licking her lips and shaking her head.

"What's wrong?" Bud's brows furrowed.

"I'm pregnant," she whispered.

"Roseanna," Bud breathed, eyes full of disbelief. He knew that their father didn't like Johnse; that he hadn't approved of Roseanna's relationship with him at all. Bud could only imagine what Ran'l's reaction was going to be when he found out Roseanna was pregnant.

"I know. I ain't told anybody but you."

"Oh my God, what are ya gonna tell Poppy?"

"Gonna tell him the truth, I reckon," Roseanna shrugged carelessly. "I tried calling Johnse. I figure he has the right t' know, ya know? He didn't answer. I didn't even bother with the voicemail. He won't call me back."

"He might. Ya never know with Jonce," Bud tried to encourage her, to give her some hope. "And if he don't, well, it's his loss. If he doesn't wanna be there for his baby, he's a dead beat."

Roseanna laughed a little at that.

"Well, he's not a dead beat if he don't even know the baby exists, Bud."

"Word gets around in this valley. You know that as well as I do. Soon as someone lets it slip that yer pregnant, Johnse's gonna find out about it."

Bud sat down in the chair across from her, his hazel eyes meeting her blue ones.

"I reckon ya've got a point," Roseanna murmured. "Guess we'll have t' wait n see, huh?"

"Yeah," Bud nodded. "But even if he don't call you back, Rose, ya've got me. Can't really do much, but I can take ya where ya need t' go."

"That's mighty kind of ya, Bud."

"No one should have t' go t' those types of appointments alone. I mean, I'll wait in the car if ya want, but I just... I dunno, I don't think it's right that ya have t' go alone."

Roseanna chuckled and grasped his hand.

"Thank you, Bud. I'm gonna have t' set somethin' like that up, but right now, I'm more worried about tellin' Mama n Poppy."

Bud burst into laughter.

"So you tell 'em just like ya told me. Straight forward."

"I can't do that!" Roseanna exclaimed. "They'd kill me if I just walked up n said, "I'm pregnant". I don't know what I'm gonna do, but it's not that."

"A'ight, so just... find a way t' start a conversation about it and gradually lead up to it," Bud suggested.

"Bud, I can't — you know, that's actually not a bad idea. You're a genius, Bud, and I love you for it."

"I'm not a genius," he laughed. "All I said was start a conversation an' gradually lead up t' what ya wanna tell 'em. That's not genius."

"Shut up and let me compliment you!"

He chortled and shook his head. He noticed Roseanna staring at him and quirked a brow.

"What?"

"Will you let me do your hair?" she asked suddenly, catching him off-guard.

Bud sighed heavily and nodded. It wasn't like he had anything to lose.

—

"Bud, I need to — what the heck happened to you?" Tolbert blinked as he rounded the corner to his room, finding his baby brother on the bed, typing on his laptop with his shoulder-length hair curled in ringlets.

"Not. A. Word."

"Oh nonono, there will be several words unless I find out what happened t' you."

"I let Rosie do my hair, a'ight? It made her happy for a lil while," he grumbled.

"Well, she was fine when I left this mornin'. What happened?"

"That's really not my place t' say," Bud forced a tight smile. "Rose will tell ya. She went t' McCarr for somethin', I can't remember what."

"A'ight. Will this shock me?"

"Prob'ly."

"Oh dear God, we don't need anymore surprises in this fam'ly. We're still recoverin' from the last one," Tolbert remarked, flopping on his side of the bed. Bud grunted and shot him a glare.

"You referrin' t' me?"

"I wouldn't put it that way, but pretty much, yeah."

"How would ya put it, moron?"

"Ya gave us a surprise n it really wa'n't a good one. We're still tryin' t' recover from that heart attack, we don't need another one right now."

"Well, this one ain't like mine, a'ight? The only one at risk of havin' a heart attack is Poppy."

"Oh my God. Don't tell me she's pregnant." Tolbert's head turned toward Bud, his eyes wide.

"I'm not tellin' ya anything. But why would ya think that?"

"It involves Roseanna and puts Poppy at risk of a heart attack. She's got t' be pregnant. Unless they made up and he asked her t' marry him or somethin', but that wouldn't make her upset. Did she say ya couldn't tell me or somethin'?"

"No. In all honesty, I think she's kinda hopin' I'll tell ya so she don't have to."

"So she is pregnant?"

"Yeah," Bud nodded in confirmation. "She's pregnant with Johnse's baby. She tried callin' and he wouldn't answer. I mean, I doubt he'd be there for her anyways, but it's just the point. That's his baby, he should be the one takin' care of it."

"Jonce probably has a new girlfriend already. Girls throw themselves at him, but I can't for the life of me figure out why. It ain't like he's a keeper."

"Well, I know that n you know that, but apparently, every girl in this valley don't know that. Or maybe they jus' don't care. One of the two."

Tolbert hummed and turned his head back toward the ceiling.

"So, what're you doin'?" he queried.

"...Reading."

"Reading what?"

"I've been lookin' up all of our names t' see what they mean. Please don't laugh at me."

"What're ya doin' that for?" Tolbert propped himself up on his elbow.

"Jus' wanna know what they mean," Bud shrugged.

"A'ight," Tolbert sighed, deciding to humor him. "What's my name mean?"

"From what I can find, it means bright valley, bright, and famous. The one I've found the most is bright valley."

"Tolbert means bright valley?" Tolbert looked a little skeptical.

"Mhm. It's like English and German and... I think the other country listed was Normandy? I'm not really sure, don't quote me on that. But it's mostly German, I think, that they get the translation from."

"Oh," Tolbert murmured. "That's interesting."

"I thought it was," Bud shrugged innocently.

"How about your name?"

"Shield wolf."

"Are ya messin' with me?"

"Nope. It's derived from rand, which is the edge of a shield, and wolf. Randolph."

"Well, that's interesting. I always thought Randolph would mean somethin' like warrior, ya know?"

"Yeah. 'S kinda weird," Bud laughed softly. "My name means shield wolf. You get bright valley. That just ain't right!"

Tolbert laughed at him, gently smacking his arm.

"Oh, quit whinin'," he chortled. "Yer name means the same exact thing Poppy's does."

"'Cause it's the same name!"

"That's beside the point."

"That's literally the only point you can make with it."

"You're impossible, ya know that?"

"Yeah, well, I've been told I'm too much like you for my own good."

"Aw, that's just mean!"

Bud giggled and closed his laptop, his hazel eyes alight with amusement. He put his laptop in his backpack and moved it to the corner of the room before going back to the bed and sitting down in his spot again.

"It ain't mean if it's truthful."

Tolbert smacked the side of Bud's head, earning another laugh from him.

"Bud? Bud, honey, I'm — oh, hey, Tolbert," Roseanna gave a slight wave as she rounded the corner. "Did you tell him?"

"More like he figured it out n I confirmed it," Bud corrected.

"Oh. Well, that's completely diff'rent."

"You do know Poppy's gonna throw a fit when he finds out, right?" Tolbert directed his attention to Roseanna.

"Yeah, I know," she nodded. "He never liked Johnse from the start."

"Rose, honey, I never liked him from the start," Tolbert scoffed. "He ain't the type for you. I know you, Rose, an' I knew straight off it wouldn't work out b'tween ya. Johnse's known all through these parts for bein' a player."

"Well, I reckon he played me. I found a place t' rent. Well, it's rent t' own. I put a down payment on it, I'll be outta y'all's hair in a few days."

"Ya ain't botherin' us none, Rosie. We like your company."

"Thanks, I reckon," she murmured. "I love you both."

"We love you too, Roseanna."

She left the room, leaving Tolbert and Bud alone. Bud turned to Tolbert, taking a breath before asking, "Will you cut my hair?"

"Sure, kiddo. Whatever ya want."

—

February 2018

Bud sighed heavily as he parked his pickup truck at the far end of the parking lot, trying to brace himself for the cold air that would hit his face the instant he opened the door.

"Why can't people learn to park?" he grumbled under his breath, taking the key out of the ignition. "It woulda been so much easier if they didn't take up two parking spaces."

He flinched when he opened the door, shuddering as he slid out of the truck and shut the door swiftly.

"Roseanna would have to have a baby in the middle of winter," he continued on with his grumbling, hurrying toward the hospital entrance. "Couldn't've been summer, or even spring! No, it had to be the dead of winter."

He entered the hospital and crossed the lobby to the elevator, hitting the button and waiting patiently. If it wasn't for the fact that he'd promised Roseanna he'd visit her after school, Bud wouldn't have taken the detour to Pikeville Medical Center. But he'd promised his older sister that he would come to see her and the baby — a baby girl named Sarah Elizabeth McCoy.

Bud stepped inside the elevator and pushed the button, exhaling deeply as he leaned against the wall. He made a small noise in the back of his throat when he slid a little, grumbling to himself under his breath as the elevator took him to the third floor. From there, he had to find room 321 (again).

Bud had been the one to drive Roseanna to all of her appointments. He didn't mind it; it seemed that Johnse didn't want anything to do with his baby, so why should they worry about it? The baby would be just fine in the McCoy family.

"Hey, Rose," Bud greeted as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. "How are ya?"

"Tired. I can't sleep in this place," she huffed.

Bud hummed. He understood that.

"Believe me, I understand," Bud mumbled, taking the bundle from Roseanna's arms. "God, I've never seen a baby so small before."

"Well, you have. You just don't remember it," Roseanna chuckled. "Ya saw Trinnie, Addie, and Fanny after they were born."

"Fanny didn't seem this small," Bud argued, his eyes flicking up and meeting hers. "Maybe it's where I was little, I don't know, but she just didn't seem as small as Sarah 'Lizabeth."

"A'ight, maybe yer right. Maybe she is smaller than Fanny was when she was born. Not that it really matters."

Bud shrugged innocently and sat down, letting the baby grasp his finger.

"When do ya get outta here?" he inquired.

"Whenever they give me the clear. And she can pass the car seat test."

"Mmm. That where they strap 'em in the seat for like ten minutes or somethin'?"

"Yeah, that's it," Roseanna nodded. "You know, Bud, I think ya mighta been right 'bout Johnse. I haven't had one call, one text, nothing. I heard he was datin' Nancy, but I don't know how true it is."

"Given the source of that, I'd ask someone a little more reliable before I believed it," he quipped. "You know as well as I do that Mrs. White n them ain't a reliable source. They twist the truth the way they want it."

"You've got a point," Roseanna mumbled.

Bud huffed in amusement and looked down at his niece, his eyes scanning the infant's face.

"Y'know, I don't think it's gonna matter that Johnse is her poppy. She's still a McCoy. Poppy been by yet?"

"No. Mama said some guy named Miller placed a big order n he literally can't go anywhere 'til he gets that done."

"Yeah. Miller placed a huge order. But it's my day off, so I get t' do whatever I want. Tolbert's workin' my place t'day."

"Why ya wanna know if Poppy's been here?"

"Huh? Oh, I was jus' askin'. Ain't heard no one say anythin' 'bout it n I know that when he does get the chance t' meet his granddaughter, he's gonna fall in love wit' her. Ain't gonna be no thought on who her poppy is when he sees her."

Roseanna chuckled.

"Ya think so?"

"I know so. I don't think Poppy really cares. We get along with the Hatfields, don't we? It's jus' that he don't like Jonce," Bud pointed out. "I didn't like him after seein' him with another girl when he was s'pposed t' be dating you. But I reckon he's always been that way n he won't ever stop."

"Reckon so," Roseanna agreed with him. "Enough about Jonce n Poppy n me. How have you been lately?"

"A'ight."

"Just a'ight?" Roseanna quirked a brow.

"It's been a pretty rough week," he admitted, focusing on Sarah Elizabeth again. "Wanted t' do somethin', but I didn't. I know what's gonna happen if I do what I want t' do."

"What's gonna happen?"

"I'm gonna end up in here again and then I'm gonna get sent off t' live with Tolbert until I get "better". I'm never gonna get better. They don't seem t' understand that there's something wrong with my head. I can't control the dagon thoughts. I never asked t' be this way, y'know? I never wanted anything t' happen when I did attempt it. I didn't want t' live t' be sixteen. And in a way, Rose, I still don't want t' live."

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Don't get mad, Rose," he pleaded, his eyes flicking up and meeting hers. "Please, don't get mad. I don't know why. All I know is that I still don't want t' live."

"You tell Tolbert that?"

"Course I did! Tolbert knows ev'thin'."

"How 'bout Poppy?"

"No," Bud shook his head immediately. "I don't — Poppy n Mama don't know anything about it. I just... I don't feel comfortable talking to them about it. If I tell them that, they start watching me like a hawk again, they send me off t' Tolbert's, and I have t' try t' figure out how that's gonna make me better. How t' act normal enough t' go back home. I really hate the way I feel, Rosie, but there's nothin' I can do about it. I'm doin' my best with it."

"I have no doubt of that. But ya should feel comfortable talkin' t' Mama n Poppy, Bud."

"Don't ya think I know that?" he lashed out. "Don't ya think I know I should feel comfortable talkin' t' my parents? I feel awful for it, Roseanna! It makes me feel so dagon bad that I don't feel comfortable talking to the two people I'm s'pposed t' trust the most. I just can't. Ya don't understand, ya never will!"

"Do they even know ya've had a rough week, Bud?"

"They always know that. They can tell."

"I didn't mean t' make you upset."

"I know, I'm sorry. S-see, I can't control it. I can't control when I lash out, or just start cryin' for no reason, or when I get mad for no reason at all. But you're right. I should feel comfortable talking t' them. And I feel horrible for not feelin' that I can, Rose. The only people I talk to about it is Tolbert, Pharmer, and on very rare occasions, you. That's it. I just... don't feel comfortable talkin' about it with very many people."

"I'm sorry for makin' ya upset. I shouldn't've said anything about it."

"N-no, it's fine, say whatever ya want. I don't mean t' get mad or lash out the way I do. It just... it just happens and I hate it, Rose, I really do."

"I know ya do, darlin'. I don't think it's right that someone as young as you can have depression. But I guess there's no such thing as age when it comes to all types of illnesses. Even mental ones."

Bud remained silent, his breath hitching as he tried to regain his composure. He hadn't meant to lash out the way he did. Bud wasn't one that lashed out for no good reason, and it usually took a lot more than a simple remark to make him angry.

"I reckon you're right," he said after a moment. "I don't necessarily enjoy it. When people find out you have depression, they automatically assume you're made of glass or they immediately start tryin' t' figure out why you have depression. It's hard t' make people understand that I don't like talkin' about it without seemin' rude."

"Well, personally, I don't see where it's any of their business."

"I know. Tolbert and Pharmer said the same thing about it. I feel bad when I end up lashing out at somebody when they ask me that. I usually end up apologizin' n tryin' t' explain that I don't like talkin' 'bout it, that it's somethin' I don't talk 'bout most of the time. Maybe I shouldn't feel that way, I don't know, but I know — I know that I can trust anyone in this fam'ly. If it ever comes down to it, I can talk t' someone else. But I tell Tolbert everything, so it's fine."

Roseanna sighed and shot him a sympathetic look. She knew Bud had a hard time with it, that he struggled with it more than he let on. He really wasn't one to show how he felt. Bud would let everyone around him believe he was fine when he truly wasn't. He was the type that would try to hide a wound from everyone in an attempt to assure them that he was fine. (Roseanna hoped and prayed that he never did that, but if she knew her baby brother as well as she liked to think she did, she knew he would try it if the opportunity presented itself.)

She watched him stare down at her newborn daughter, watched a small smile spread across his face. Roseanna had no doubt that she'd be seeing more of her baby brother now that she'd had Sarah Elizabeth. She had no doubt that he was going to take his role as uncle seriously, as he seemed to love the little girl already.

"I really gotta go," Bud mumbled, standing and returning the baby to Roseanna's arms. "I'd rather get the report card thing over with. Love you."

"Love you too, Buddy."

—

Tolbert looked up as Bud entered the office, quirking a brow.

"And where have you been?"

"I promised Rose I'd stop by n see her an' Sarah Elizabeth after school."

"Then what're ya doin' out here?" Tolbert sounded genuinely confused.

"Lookin' for Poppy," he answered swiftly.

"Oh. He went out for a couple of minutes. He'll be back," Tolbert informed him as he sat down. Tolbert eyed him and noticed how nervous he was. "What're ya so nervous for?"

"He's gonna chew me out," Bud sighed, laying the paper on the desk and sliding it toward Tolbert. "I don't wanna be on the receivin' end of his anger t'day."

"If you ever want t' be on the receivin' end of Poppy's anger, I'm concerned," Tolbert remarked, his eyes scanning the paper in front of him. "And what the heck happened, Bud? I know your work was right this time 'round."

"I dunno," he shrugged half-heartedly. "I never know what's goin' on with my grades, Tol. At this point, I just kinda accept it and go on with my life."

"Well, I saw your work. The math, English, and history was right. Ali said health and science was right, too. What's goin' on, Buddy?"

"My teachers don't like me. Nobody really likes me at school. I've watched my health teacher trash my work after I turn it in, then she turns around an' claims I never turned it in. My science teacher humiliates me every chance he gets, my math teacher don't like me 'cause I can't use her crazy methods and I pointed out she did a problem wrong on the board. She's been after me ever since then. English? I dunno, he really don't say much. Neither does my history teacher. I'm failin' gym class 'cause I won't change."

"Mmm... I can understand not wantin' t' change," Tolbert muttered. "But I don't understand why you're teachers don't like ya. Yer a genius, kid."

"I'm not a genius," he disputed.

"I've watched you sit here at this desk and do the accounting for this company in one sitting. And it's always right when ya do it. Yer a genius."

"I'm not a genius!"

"Why can't ya let me say somethin' nice about you?" Tolbert asked softly. "Why do ya gotta fight me on it every time I try t' say somethin' nice, hm?"

"Because I'm not what ya think I am! Y-ya keep sayin' I'm a genius, but I ain't! I'm stupid, Tolbert! That's all there is to it! I'm a stupid moron, a'ight?!"

"You are far from stupid, Bud. Yer the smartest person I know, kiddo."

"Would ya stop lying t' me?" Bud sniffled. "I know I'm not smart. Stop lyin' t' me!"

"I'm not lyin' t' you. I promised you I would never lie t' you, and I keep my promises, Bud. You are intelligent, Bud McCoy. I've said it once n I'll say it again — you're the smartest person I know, kiddo."

Bud huffed irritably and slouched in his chair, folding his arms over his chest.

"I'm not—"

"You are. Ya just don't realize it. Enough on that, Buddy. How's Rose n Sarah Elizabeth?"

"Alright. The baby slept mostly n I talked t' Roseanna. Ended up talkin' to her a little more than I usually do, ya know? Like — like how I talk t' you n Pharmer."

"Oh, really?" Tolbert blinked in surprise.

"Yeah. Kinda wish I didn't, though."

"Why?"

"I ended up tellin' her what I told you."

"Oh. Why'd ya do that?"

"I did it without thinkin'," he admitted, lowering his head. "I was talkin' an' didn't think, so I just... I just said it."

Tolbert sighed and got up, rounding the desk and pulling Bud to his feet. He pulled him into a tight embrace, kissing the boy's temple.

"That's okay, Rose won't say anything. Ya know she won't."

"Yeah, that's a good thing, I reckon. I just... my God, Tol, I don't know what t' do. I don't know anythin' anymore."

Tolbert brought one hand up and scratched Bud's scalp, Bud humming and laying his head on Tolbert's shoulder. Tolbert used his free hand to rub his back, Bud closing his eyes. Bud wrapped his arms tightly around his middle, tucking his face in the crook of Tolbert's neck.

"It's alright if ya don't know what t' do, baby. There's times I don't know what t' do, if I'm honest with ya. A lot of the time, baby, I have no idea what t' do. Am I safe t' assume you'll be at my place t'night?"

"I doubt I'll be allowed t' go anywhere t'night, Tol."

—

Bud awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. He rolled onto his stomach and grabbed it off the nightstand, answering it without looking at the name.

"'Ello?"

"Hey. I'm sorry, did I wake ya?" Tolbert's voice filtered through the speaker, sounding a little panicked.

"Ya did, but it's fine. Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine," he answered swiftly.

"Tolbert, what's goin' on?"

"Nothin', baby. I'm sorry I woke ya up—"

"Tol, why on earth are ya callin' me at three in the mornin'?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm okay."

Bud sighed.

"Tolbert, ya don't sound that way."

"I'm okay, I promise I'm okay. I'm sorry for wakin' ya."

"It's not that big of a deal. I wake you up all the time. What's goin' on?" Bud pressed.

"I just... oh God, Bud, I think I'm havin' a panic attack, but I'm not really sure. I can't breathe right."

"I'll be there in a minute. I love you."

"I love you too."

—

Bud knew that he was technically breaking the rules of being grounded for three weeks. He wasn't supposed to go anywhere but school, the hospital if he wished to see Roseanna, and any place that his parents might send him on an errand. But he felt that once Ran'l heard what was going on, he would understand and would let it slide this once.

Pulling into Tolbert's driveway, he threw the gearshift into park and turned off the engine, getting out and shutting the door before hurrying toward the front door. He used his key to get in, being sure to close it before he went to Tolbert's room.

"Tolbert? Tolbert, where are ya?" He hit the light switch as he entered, finding his brother sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands tightly clenching the sheet with his chin touching his chest, trying to take in deep breaths.

"Hey," Tolbert forced out, lifting his head. "I can't — I can't calm down this time, I don't know what's wrong."

"You freakin' out ain't gonna help none. Just talk to me, Tol."

"I feel like I'm gettin' t' where I can't breathe."

"Focus on somethin' else. Talk about anything but that. It helps, trust me." Bud sat down on the bed, extending his arm toward Tolbert. "C'mere. Hugs help too."

Tolbert moved and let Bud wrap his arms around him, shifting to where he could put his head on Bud's shoulder.

"I thought you were s'pposed t' be grounded," Tolbert murmured.

"Well, I am, technically."

"An' what're you gonna do when Poppy wears you out?"

"He ain't gonna know I was here," Bud rolled his eyes. "I'll be back home b'fore he gets up."

Tolbert breathed a laugh before inhaling deeply, closing his eyes and swallowing past the lump that formed in his throat.

"I don't know what I'm doin', Bud. I don't know what threw me into it this time."

"It's okay, Tolbert. I don't mind comin' over if ya need me."

"I'm just — oh God, I dunno, Buddy. This one's bad."

"That's okay. Ya don't have t' know. I'll stay here as long as ya need me to, Tolbert."

—

Bud returned home around five a.m.

He sighed as he unlocked the front door and pushed it open, slipping inside and closing the door as quietly as he could before locking it again. He crept up the stairs and went to the right, opening the door to his room and stepping inside, wincing as he closed the door.

"And where have you been?"

Bud gasped and whirled around, hitting the switch and finding his father sitting on his bed.

"I just... I had t' go t' Tolbert's," Bud stammered. This was something he hadn't anticipated and he wasn't prepared for it. How was he supposed to explain it to his father?

"What for?" Ran'l drawled, tilting his head to the side.

"Promised I wouldn't say," Bud whispered, his throat closing up. Why was he so scared of his father?

"Ya promised ya wouldn't say?" Ran'l repeated incredulously. "That seems like a dumb thing t' do, given your situation, son."

"I — I know, but I promised I wouldn't — oh my God, Poppy, whatcha lookin' at me like that for?"

"Two rules. That's all I gave you, Bud. Two dagon rules and ya can't even abide by 'em!"

Bud flinched when Ran'l's belt hit his leg.

"I'm sorry!"

"All I asked was that ya only use yer phone t' call n text us and that ya didn't go anywhere but the places I gave ya. That's it!"

"I—I know, but y-y-ya don't understand! It was important, it was really important, Poppy! Tolbert needed me, I promise! I swear, Poppy, I won't go nowhere else while 'm grounded! I promise!"

"That's not the dagon point, Bud! Ya snuck out of the house in the middle of the night while you're grounded!"

Bud stumbled back, his back hitting the door.

"I'm sorry."

—

Bud made a noise in the back of his throat as he sat down at the desk, looking up as the door to the office opened. Tolbert stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"What happened?" Tolbert asked softly.

"Ah, he got up earlier than usual," Bud grumbled. "He was in my dang room waitin' for me. He took his belt to me, but it wa'n't too bad."

"No? Stand up."

Bud slowly stood up with a grimace, moving away from the desk and opening one of the drawers to a filing cabinet.

"No, it ain't bad at all," Tolbert drawled sarcastically. "Ya can barely walk."

"It's been a really long time since I got the belt," Bud said swiftly. "I'm not used to it anymore. I'm just a little sore, Tolbert. It's not that big of a deal."

He grabbed a file and made his way back to the desk, sitting down again and mumbling to himself as he sorted through the papers that were spread across the desk.

"I told you ya didn't have t' stay."

"And I told you I wasn't leavin' ya like that," Bud retaliated, his voice taking an edge to it. "Believe me, Tolbert, I know how bad a panic attack can get. I'm not gonna leave you when you're like that, even if I know Poppy's gonna skin my hide when I get home. I care more about you than I do about gettin' hit with a belt."

"You coulda just stayed on the phone with me."

"And it wouldn't've done any good."

"And ya really didn't tell him why ya went t' my place at three in the mornin'?"

"I promised you I wouldn't say anythin' 'bout it t' anybody. I keep my promises."

"I really wouldn't've cared if ya told Poppy, Bud. He wore ya out 'cause ya wouldn't tell him what ya were doin' at my place."

"I promised I wouldn't. I knew he was gonna wear me out the second I realized he was there, but I... I didn't say anythin'. I mean, I couldn't say anythin' after I'd promised you I wouldn't. I gave my word n I intend t' keep it."

"That's all well an' good, Bud, but ya don't have t' let Poppy take his belt t' you b'cause ya promise me somethin'. An' if I know you — and I do — you'd do it again without a second thought. If this ever happens again, you can tell Poppy. I don't want ya gettin' the belt 'cause ya made a promise t' me, a'ight?"

"A'ight," Bud nodded. "It wasn't that bad, though."

"You can barely walk. I don't wanna hear it, Bud."

"Okay."

—

Ran'l sighed as he entered Bud's room, closing the door behind him. Bud looked up from his book, raising a single brow curiously.

"Tolbert told me why you were at his house this mornin'. He told me why ya didn't tell me, too."

"Oh," Bud murmured, closing his book and setting it on the nightstand.

"I'm sorry. I shoulda found out what ya were doin' b'fore I took my belt to ya."

"'S fine, Poppy," Bud waved it off. "I don't mind takin' the belt if I know Tol's okay."

Ran'l let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of Bud's bed.

"You are too good for this world, Bud McCoy. Ya got a good heart n a good soul. Ya make me proud t' be yer poppy, 'specially when ya do things like that. Ya knew ya'd get in trouble n ya didn't care."

"W-well, I cared a little," Bud admitted. "But I wouldn't've told ya what I was doin' no matter what. I made a promise and I keep my promises. I promised I wouldn't tell no one."

"I know ya did. This is prob'ly the only time I've ever apologized for wearin' one of ya out. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Poppy," Bud laughed. "We all know I'm the best one anyways. I'm yer fav'rite."

Ran'l laughed at him.

"Yeah, Buddy. Yer my fav'rite."