Tales of the Tug Fork Valley

by appalachianwriter

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

19. Baby of Mine (Modern AU)

January 2002

Ellison entered his home, closing the door behind him. He locked it before making his way upstairs, listening to the baby coo in the car seat he was carrying. And now that they were inside, out of the bitter cold, Ellison pulled the blanket down to reveal the baby's face.

He went upstairs and pushed open the door to the room he shared with his wife, who quirked a brow as he entered.

"I take it as you said yes?"

"Of course I said yes," Ellison mumbled. "He lost his parents and two oldest brothers. Don't know how; that's all they'd tell me. I've already started the adoption process, too. I stopped at Wall's place on the way home n talked to him about it. He said he'd get it started for us."

"Mighty kind of him. 'Specially after ya lost Ellison not too long ago."

Ellison set the car seat down and lowered the handle, picking the blanket up and setting it on the bed. He worked with the straps and lifted the babe into his arms, his eyes meeting Sarah's.

"Randolph McCoy, Junior."

"Oh my God," Sarah murmured, gladly taking the infant into her arms. "He's a purdy lil thing, ain't he?"

"That he is. An' as for Ellison, he died a week after he was born. Reckon he was jus' poorly."

"And ya loved that little boy more than anythin'."

Ellison gave a slight shrug, moving the seat and sitting on the bed beside his wife.

"I'm gonna change his name."

"Elli—"

"I'll tell him the truth when he's older. For now, he'll be our baby boy. Wall said we can easily get his name changed."

"Alright, Ellison."

—

March 2003

Ellison couldn't help but laugh as he chased the little one-year-old boy through the house, stepping behind him and placing his hands under his arms, lifting him off the floor.

"Gotcha!"

His son squealed with laughter, his hazel eyes shining bright as Ellison placed him on his hip.

"That wa'n't very nice, runnin' from me like that, Tyler."

Tyler giggled and leaned forward, kissing Ellison's cheek. It was the new thing he loved to do; he'd started doing it about a week ago and kissed both Ellison and Sarah every chance he got.

"Da-da."

"Yeah, Ty. I'm Daddy."

He kissed his son's cheek and turned, bending down and grabbing his toy.

"Here y' go, baby."

Tyler happily took it from him, holding it as Ellison carried him into the kitchen and put him in his high chair. He snapped the tray on it and grabbed the cereal puffs that Tyler loved, pouring some of them into a small plastic bowl and setting them in front of him.

"Yer gonna spoil him," Sarah chuckled, watching the little boy pop one in his mouth.

"Nah," Ellison denied, shaking his head.

"Oh, right. Ya already spoil him."

"I do not," he laughed, moving over to her. "I've gotta go or Anse is gonna kill me. Love you."

He swiftly kissed her cheek before grabbing his keys off the counter.

"Love you."

—

October 2006

"Daddy!"

Ellison jerked awake as the door to his room opened, his four-year-old son running inside and to his side of the bed.

"Daddy, I'm scared!"

"Hey, easy, baby, easy," Ellison cooed, lifting the little boy. "You're okay. It's okay. What's scared ya?"

A crack of thunder was heard, Tyler whimpering and shoving his face into Ellison's chest.

"Oh. Never mind."

Tyler clung tightly to his father, his breathing swift and labored.

"I'm scared, Daddy," he repeated, his voice trembling terribly.

"It's okay, baby. Just stay in here t'night. It's jus' a storm. A big one by the sounds of those winds, but I'm sure ev'rythin' will be fine, Tyler. Sleep in here t'night. I won't let anythin' happen to ya."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Tyler sniffled and nuzzled against Ellison, closing his eyes as his father started to rub his back and play with his brunette hair.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"William promised he'd let me come over t'morrow," Tyler murmured, blinking rapidly to stay awake.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Says I can stay wit' Will n Jonce. Mama already said I can go."

"Well, I'll be sure t' take ya over first thing in the mornin', Ty. We'll get up early, go out n get some breakfast somewheres, then we'll go t' Anse's house."

"Okay, Daddy." There was a pause. "Hey, Daddy?"

"Yes, Ty?" Ellison hummed, glancing down at his son.

"Why's ev'ryone call William Anse?"

"'Cause his name's William Anderson Hatfield. We call 'im Anse for short."

"Oh. How come he don't make me call him Anse?"

"That's somethin' you'll have t' ask him, honey. I don't know why he lets ya call him William 'stead of Anse. Last I heard, he hated that name."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That was a while ago, though. Maybe he jus' don't mind you callin' him William."

"But if he don't like the name, why would he let me call him that?"

"Maybe he changed his mind," Ellison shrugged. "Ain't no big deal either way. He lets ya call him William. He's even said he don't care for ya callin' him William if ya want to. Anse might have a nasty temper, might be nasty t' some people without his temper, but he don't mind you callin' him by his real name, kiddo."

"Y' sure?" Tyler peered up at him innocently.

"Why don't ya ask him t'morrow? He'll tell ya the truth, Tyler."

"Mkay. Love ya, Daddy."

"Love you too, son."

—

"Anse, I need t' talk t' you a minute," Ellison mumbled loud enough for his brother to hear. "It's important."

Anse led him inside to the living room, raising a brow while he waited for Ellison to speak.

"Ty's at the point that he asks a lotta questions. He's gonna talk t' you. Wants t' know why ya let him call ya William an' things like that."

"I reckon I can try t' answer his questions," Anse sighed. "Can't guarantee I'll have an answer, though."

"That's fine, he understands that. He's scared of storms, too, jus' in case we actually do get the storm they're sayin' we're gonna get t'night."

"A'ight," Anse chuckled.

—

Anse lifted Tyler and placed him on his hip, carrying him upstairs to the room that was directly across from his and Levicy's.

"If ya need us t'night, we're in the room right across the hall, alright?"

"A'ight. Hey, William?"

"Yeah, Tyler?"

"Why's ya let me call ya William? Ev'ryone else calls ya Anse."

Anse set him down and exhaled deeply through his nostrils.

"'Cause yer not like ev'ryone else," he answered after a moment. "There's somethin' special about you."

Tyler's face pinched in a bewildered expression.

"But Daddy said ya didn't like the name William."

"It's diff'rent when it's you callin' me William." Anse gently tapped his nose, earning a giggle. "I don't mind it when it's you, Tyler."

"Y' sure? I can call ya Anse."

"I'm sure, honey. You keep on callin' me William. Now, how about you get some sleep, hm?"

"Mkay. Night, William."

"Night, Tyler."

—

Tyler ended up sleeping with Anse and Levicy. The two hadn't minded it (they'd actually expected it when the wind started to pick up) and had made the little boy laugh so hard that his sides hurt.

Now, curled up against Anse, he slept soundly. Anse didn't mind; if there was one thing he'd learned over the past five years, it was that Ellison's boy was special. Anse had never seen his younger brother as happy as he had been the day he pulled in his driveway with a baby in the backseat. He'd given them the story, had told them the baby's real name, and had revealed his plan to adopt him and change his name.

It was almost as though the two had a bond that was unbreakable. Anse knew it sounded ridiculous, but Ellison had fallen in love with Tyler the second he laid eyes on him. All it had taken for him to agree to take him home with him was to hold him in his arms.

"It's almost like havin' Elli back, Anse," Ellison had told him.

Anse knew that was another reason for it — Ellison was grieving the loss of his own son and wanted a baby. So when he received a call saying that a three-month-old baby had just been orphaned and was in need of a home, he hadn't hesitated to go into Pike County, Kentucky to see the baby.

Ellison's son had been born sickly. He'd named him Ellison Mounts, and the baby had lived for a week before succumbing to whatever illness he had. It had broken Ellison.

"Daddy?"

Anse looked over at the door, seeing Will and Johnse.

"What're you boys doin' up?"

"Hadn't seen Ty. Didn't know if he went home or not," Will shrugged innocently.

"Well, he didn't. He's sleepin', jus' like you should be. Git yer hides in your rooms before your mother sees you."

The boys left, leaving Anse alone with his thoughts again. That was when Levicy entered the room again, carrying two bottles of water. She closed the door and shuffled to the bed, getting in and covering up after passing one of the bottles to Anse.

"Ya just missed our boys," Anse murmured, watching her sigh. "Surprisingly, they didn't want anything. All they wanted was t' know if Tyler had gone home or not."

"Mm. Long as they went back t' bed, I don't really care," Levicy mumbled, laying down. "I'm too tired t' care."

Anse laughed at that.

"Get some sleep, Levicy."

—

Anse jerked awake to Tyler screaming. The little boy had tensed and hurriedly scrambled to where he had one leg on either side of Anse, burying his face in his uncle's chest.

"Ty? You okay?" Anse rasped, placing his hand on the boy's back.

"'M scared," he muffled into Anse's chest, his hand clenching the fabric of his t-shirt.

"What're ya scared of?"

"I wanna go home!" Tyler cried. "I wanna go home, William!"

"Alright, honey, I'll take ya home. Go get your stuff n I'll call your daddy t' let him know we're comin'." He got up, holding Tyler against him before setting him on the floor, watching the boy scurry out of the room.

Anse grabbed the phone and dialed Ellison's number, mumbling to himself under his breath.

"Anse?" Ellison's voice filtered through the speaker, but it sounded like he was barely awake.

"Yeah, Ellison. Your son wants t' come home. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Wha's wrong wit' him?" Ellison yawned.

"Musta had a bad dream. Woke me up screamin'."

"Mm. I'll talk to him when he gets here."

"A'ight. An' Ellison?"

"Yeah, Anse?"

"Don't go back t' sleep."

"Oh, you think yer so funny," Ellison grumbled. "Why don't you shut up an' bring my kid home?"

"If that's what ya want," Anse shrugged, amused at his younger brother's bad mood. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Mkay."

—

"Hey, baby," Ellison smiled as Tyler entered the house, bending down and picking him up. Tyler threw his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Ellison kissed his temple before taking the bag from Anse, thanking him.

Anse nodded and left. Ellison closed the door and locked it, planting another kiss on his son's temple.

"Why'd ya wanna come home, baby?" Ellison asked, climbing the stairs and pushing the door open to Tyler's room.

"I was scared," he muffled, holding tightly to his father. "I jus' — I didn't wanna stay no more."

"That's okay, baby. I don't mind ya comin' home. I like havin' ya home if I'm honest with ya. I'm sure yer safe when yer home. Want me t' stay in here t'night?"

"Please," Tyler whispered. "I don't wanna be alone, Daddy."

"That's okay. Ya still scared?"

"Mhm."

"What scared ya?"

"M' dream. Y-you died in it."

"Oh, baby," Ellison murmured, giving him a gentle squeeze (or a bear hug, as Tyler called them). "Wanna sleep in one of my shirts? I'll go get one for ya."

"Please."

"Alright. You stay here. I'll tell yer Mama what's goin' on while I getcha a shirt."

"Okay, Daddy."

Ellison set him down on the bed and left the room, returning a moment later with a blue t-shirt. He helped his son change into it, kissing his cheek and tossing the clothes he'd been wearing in the hamper.

"Now get some sleep, Ty. I love you."

"Love y' too."

—

October 2014

Ellison glanced at Sarah, who gave him a small, encouraging nod. He didn't want to give the box to Tyler; he didn't want to tell him the truth. But Tyler was thirteen and he deserved to know.

He pulled the box off of the shelf in the closet, the one with TYLER written across it in permanent marker.

"He downstairs?" Ellison asked softly.

"That's where he's s'pposed t' be," Sarah answered. "Don't look so down, Ellison. You promised you'd tell him on his thirteenth birthday."

"He's gonna get mad, Sarah," Ellison sighed, leaving the room.

Ellison descended the stairs and walked down the hall to the kitchen, finding Tyler sitting at the table. He swallowed thickly and set the box down, trying to figure out a way to explain to the boy that he was adopted without making it seem terrible.

Tyler looked up at him strangely, as he was sitting there eating a bowl of cereal, his brows furrowed and his hazel eyes shining with confusion.

"What's that?" He pointed to the box, standing to put the bowl in the sink.

"Uh... it's full of stuff that b'longs t' you. Like... like your original birth certificate, your social security card, a book of baby's first that goes up t' three months and another that me an' your Mama did from three months on. Things that your birth parents and biological siblings left you."

Tyler whipped around, the bowl slipping out of his hand and shattering against the floor.

"I'm sorry?" he blinked, not fully processing that he'd dropped it yet.

"It's a box full of things that b'long t' you. We've saved everything in here the last thirteen years; we've added somethin' to it each year. Things that we find or are given to us. We thought it'd be best t' give it to you when ya turned thirteen."

"Are you sayin' I'm adopted?"

"Yeah, kiddo. You're adopted."

"Oh my God."

Tyler glanced down, finding the shattered bowl.

"S-sorry, Daddy, I'll clean that up."

"Don't worry about that. Step over it and come here."

Tyler did as he was told, unwanted tears welling in his eyes.

"So... so did they just not want me or what?"

"It's not that they didn't want you, baby. They loved ya very much. They couldn't help what happened, Tyler. Go on, open it."

He sniffled as he opened the box, swallowing past the lump that had formed in his throat. The first thing he found was his birth certificate.

"Randolph McCoy, Junior?" Tyler looked up at Ellison. "You changed my name?"

"I did."

"Why?!"

"To avoid the questions as long as I could," Ellison answered honestly. "And since I adopted you, I would've had t' change your last name anyway—"

"To avoid questions?! I have so many dagon questions right now, Daddy!"

"I know."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Tyler demanded, tears spilling onto his face. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"'Cause I was scared to. I wanted ya t' be old enough t' understand all of it when I told ya."

"Ya lied t' me. All of ya did! Ya've lied to me my entire life!"

"I didn't lie t' you," Ellison sighed. "I just didn't know how t' tell you."

"You coulda told me the dang truth!" Tyler countered, his voice going shrill. "What else haven't you told me? What else are ya keepin' from me? Tell me!"

Ellison sat down, trying to suppress the dread and guilt he felt.

"Sit down. We'll talk, okay? I'll explain everything."

Tyler huffed and sat down, slouching in the chair and looking at him expectantly.

"You... God, honey, this is so hard t' put int' words. 2001. 2001 was a gosh-awful year for me. I had a son born in August — we named him Ellison Mounts. I wasn't married to your mother at the time and his mother was a woman named Harriet. He died when he was a week old. He was born sickly and... he just couldn't fight whatever it was.

"So I put in t' be a foster parent. Logan and Mingo Counties in West Virginia, and in Pike County, Kentucky. January 30, 2002, I got a phone call. They said they had a three-month-old baby boy there that had just been orphaned. So I drove int' Pikeville t' see the baby, t' see if I thought he'd be right for me n yer Mama.

"He was perfect. The minute I laid eyes on him, I knew I was s'pposed t' take him home with me. So I did. And I got the adoption process started immediately. There was just somethin' about that baby, this feelin' that he was s'pposed t' be part of my family. It was like God made him just for me. So I adopted him and I changed his name from Randolph McCoy, Junior to Tyler Jackson Hatfield.

"They called ya Bud in your birth fam'ly. Your parents and two oldest brothers died in a terrible car accident. Your brothers were fourteen and ten when they died. Their names were James — well, they called him Jim — and Tolbert. From what I've been able t' find out, Tolbert loved you more than anyone else in this world. He played his role well and did anythin' he was asked to when it came t' takin' care of ya.

"You have four other siblings. Alifair, Roseanna, Calvin, and Pharmer. They're all alive and doin' well. And I've checked with them... if you want t' meet them, they'd be more than happy t' meet you, baby. All ya have t' do is say ya want to, and we'll figure out a time and place so you can meet them."

Tyler was strangely silent, staring down at the floor with a blank expression. It was a lot to take in all at once. He'd wanted the truth and he'd gotten it, but he wasn't entirely sure how he felt. One part of him was swirling with anger at his adoptive father for keeping it from him for so long while the other was overwhelmed by everything he'd learned in the last few moments. He'd never felt so torn between two different emotions and he didn't know which one was dominant.

He knew, logically, that his father had done it with his best interests at heart. He'd let Tyler grow up with a normal childhood and a normal family. No one even knew he was adopted, apparently. He was sure he would've heard some stupid jokes about it if anyone knew.

But right now, he was illogical and running off of his emotions. His father had no right to keep it from him as long as he had. Why shouldn't he know the truth about his life from the start?

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tyler whispered. He didn't know why he felt so heartbroken at the realization that he wasn't really Ellison's son; he should've known. He looked nothing like Ellison and Sarah.

"Mostly 'cause I was scared to. But... but I'd promised yer Mama I'd give this to ya on your thirteenth birthday, so I kept my promise, as much as I didn't want to. Ya have the right t' know, Ty. That box is filled t' the brim with things that belong t' you. And I know you're mad, that you're upset. Ya have every right t' be. But I never intended t' lie t' ya, Tyler. Reckon I just... really wanted t' believe you were mine. You're still legally my son, but now that ya know I ain't really your daddy, I reckon you get t' make the choice of what ya wanna call me."

"Whaddaya mean?" Tyler's brows pinched together as he sat up straight.

"You don't have t' call me Daddy anymore if ya don't want to. It's whatever you want, honey."

Tyler saw the tear that slipped down Ellison's face; could see the guilt that shone in his eyes. It didn't stop his anger, but it suppressed it a little.

"Daddy, don't cry."

"I'm not cryin'."

Tyler's throat closed up, gazing at Ellison. He was so overwhelmed that he didn't even know what he wanted to do or say.

"Daddy, I... I don't understand."

"You don't understand what?"

"Why wouldn't I wanna call you Daddy? You're my father. T' me, that's what your name is. I mean, I know it's not actually your name, that would be weird, but I've never called you anythin' but Daddy."

"I only said if you wanted to. Sometimes, after someone finds out they've been adopted, they don't wanna call 'em Mama n Daddy anymore. They'll call 'em by their names or maybe they won't speak to 'em at all. I just wanted t' make sure that you know it's okay t' do that if that's what ya wanna do."

"I don't even know how I feel, Daddy," he confessed, shaking his head lightly. "I just — I'm so overwhelmed and I can't figure out how I feel. Can you... can you help me understand all this?"

"I can try."

Tyler nodded and got up, rounding the table and sitting down beside Ellison. He grabbed the box and pulled it forward, standing so he could see inside of it and pulling out what looked to be a photo album.

"What's this?"

"Pictures that your brother Jim took. That's one of the albums he filled up with pictures of the McCoy family."

Tyler sat down again, his eyes flicking over and meeting Ellison's.

"Did you know them?"

"I knew your parents. I didn't know your brothers very well; I didn't see them much."

"Oh. What were they like?"

"They were good people. Some of the best I knew. They loved each and every one of their many babies, and they did their darndest t' raise 'em up right. And they did a fine job with it. Your father was plannin' t' start himself a timbering company. Something that he could do right from his backyard 'cause he didn't want t' leave his family after comin' back from the army. Your mother was one of the sweetest women I've ever met. Always kind t' everyone she met. I knew yer father a little better than yer mother, mostly 'cause he was friends with Anse. They were good people, Ty. I can see them in you."

"You can?" Tyler scrunched his nose.

"Yeah. Just little things ya do that reminds me of them. Or little things ya do that remind me of your brothers. Like you scrunchin' your nose up — Tolbert used to do that a lot."

"Really?"

"Mhm. He 'specially did it after Sally kissed him 'cause, in his words, he was "too old t' be kissed like a baby." I thought it was funny."

Tyler giggled and opened the photo album, his eyes landing on a photo of a boy who looked to be about eight. He'd scrunched his nose and stuck his tongue out at whoever took the photo, his wild ginger curls splayed across his forehead. Tyler's eyes drifted down to the slip of paper beneath the photo with the words He don't know how to take a serious picture, September 1999 written on it.

"That would be Tolbert."

"I lived longer than he did?" Tyler asked softly, eyes flicking between the photo and Ellison.

"Ya did," Ellison nodded. "Tolbert was ten when he died. That was taken two years before it. And from what I've noticed by lookin' in the other ones you were given, that was a tradition with them. Once a month, Tolbert would pull a funny face for one of the pictures and Jim would keep it."

He turned the page, finding the same boy with a boy that was a little older than he was.

Me and Bert, September 1999

"Bert?"

"Reckon that's what Jim called him," Ellison shrugged.

"Hm... Can we go t' the livin' room?"

"Sure. Whatever ya want, Ty."

—

"Daddy, can you call me Bud?" Tyler asked as he closed the box, his hazel eyes flicking up and meeting his father's.

"I reckon so," Ellison nodded slightly. "How ya feel 'bout meetin' your brothers and sisters?"

"I wanna meet 'em," he said swiftly. "I really wanna meet 'em, Daddy."

"Alright. We'll set somethin' up. I'll let ya know, okay?"

"Okay."

"Go get dressed, Buddy. We're goin' out t'night."

—

Tyler didn't know why his parents had decided to take him into Kentucky; they usually went to Logan when they went out, but for whatever reason, they'd planned something in Kentucky.

They'd gone in a restaurant — an all you can eat buffet — and had been led to the back room.

"Isn't the back rooms for people who reserve them?" Tyler queried, walking alongside his father.

"Mhm."

"Wait, then that means—"

"Quit tryin' t' figure somethin' out," Ellison chided lightly, laughing. "C'mon."

They entered the room, finding four other people in the room. Tyler stopped and took a step back, looking uncertainly at Ellison. They hadn't noticed that they'd entered the room, and they were talking with each other and laughing.

"Relax, Bud. It's alright."

That caught the girl with dark brown hair's attention. She looked over at them, blinking before sliding out of the booth and approaching.

"Bud?" she asked softly, eyes flicking between Ellison and Tyler. Ellison nodded. "Oh my God. I'm Alifair."

His sister?

"You... remember me?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yeah, Buddy," she nodded with a laugh. "I remember ya."

Tyler didn't know what came over him, but he lunged forward and hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. It took him a moment to realize what he'd done, and he gasped and took a few steps back.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! I don't — I don't know what came over me."

"Hey, it's alright. I don't mind it. Come here."

He hugged her again, relishing in the comfort he felt. Tyler had never been the type to instantly trust someone, but there was something about Alifair that made him trust her immediately.

"That him?" one of the boys spoke up.

"Yeah," Alifair answered, turning her head toward them. She turned back to Tyler. "Wanna meet the rest of 'em? They're a little crazy, but I think you'll like 'em."

He laughed and nodded, letting her pull him over to the booth.

—

Bud found that all of his siblings were wonderful people. And while he did immediately trust all of them (it was just a feeling that he should and he did), he felt a different connection with Pharmer than he did the other three.

And after they left, he'd leaned his head against the window of the truck, and had ended up falling asleep.

He didn't wake until his father had pulled him out of the truck and into his arms, which caused him to blink a few times.

"Go back t' sleep, baby."

"Don' wanna," he mumbled, nuzzling his father's shoulder.

"Okay. That's fine, but I don't trust you enough t' let ya walk. Ya look like yer still half-asleep."

"I think I am."

Ellison couldn't help it; he laughed at him. Tyler huffed and pouted, throwing his left arm over Ellison's shoulder. His right arm was wrapped around his neck, his hand subconsciously holding onto the fabric of Ellison's shirt.

Tyler fought to stay awake as his father carried him inside and up the stairs, making a noise in the back of his throat as he was placed on the bed.

"Get some sleep, baby. I love you."

"I love y' too."

—

November 2014

"Pharmer!" Bud exclaimed, running up to him and throwing his arms around him. "Oh my God, Pharmer!"

"Hey, Buddy," Pharmer laughed. "Ellison said ya might want some help, so I brought over what I have. I know you're tryin' t' find out all ya can on Mama, Poppy, Tolbert, n Jim. I have a photo that I think you should have, too. It just happened to be in one of the albums that was given to me."

"A photo?" Bud's brows furrowed. "Why would you wanna give it to me?"

"You'll see when I find it. So... so you've always been called Bud to me, and I was told that you're Poppy's namesake. Is your name still Randolph?"

"No, it's Tyler," Bud chuckled. "I'm Tyler Jackson Hatfield. Have been for most of my life. I didn't even know I had brothers and sisters until two weeks ago. I've — I've calmed down a lot since then. And I've apologized t' Daddy a lot too. I didn't handle it very well."

"I think he expected that," Pharmer remarked.

"Yeah, well, that don't make it any better. He was jus' tryin' t' help, ya know? I know he dreaded it. I could tell the minute he walked in the kitchen that he dreaded it. It really ain't hard t' tell with Daddy; Daddy's always happy and he just... he wasn't that day. Not until I managed t' control my temper and we went through everything in that box, anyways."

Pharmer hummed, closing the door to Alifair's car and following Bud inside. They went up to his room, where Bud told Pharmer he could put his things down wherever he wanted to.

"So, are you hot-headed?" Pharmer asked as he set the box down beside the desk.

"Not usually," Bud answered sheepishly. "I just... I don't know, I know it sounds stupid, but I felt betrayed. Like he had a million opportunities to tell me that I was adopted and he never bothered t' tell me. He never even hinted at it. I mean, he never really came straight out and lied to me either, but he was really good at avoiding certain questions.

"Like the time I asked him why my hair and eyes are diff'rent from his and Mama's. Mama's got real dark hair with grey eyes and Daddy's got red hair and brown eyes. I don't look like them at all. From what I've been told, I was basically a replacement for the one Daddy lost."

"I doubt he sees you as a replacement. But ya might've helped him deal with the loss."

"I didn't even know Daddy had a kid named Ellison. He died when he was a week old. And I replaced him in January."

"You weren't a replacement. Ellison wanted you."

"To replace the baby he lost," Bud countered, keeping his voice low. "He got me to replace the son that he lost in August. But it's okay. I just... I won't tell him I've figured that out. Please don't tell him."

"I won't, Bud."

"Promise?"

"Yeah," Pharmer nodded slightly. "I promise."

—

Bud awoke unable to breathe. He whined and sat up, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He hated it when this happened. He hated it when he had the panic attacks that nobody knew about.

"Bud? Bud, are you awa—oh my God, are ya okay?" Pharmer asked as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"I-I'm fine," Bud forced out. "You can go back t' bed."

"No. You ain't breathin' right."

"I can handle it, go on."

"For some reason, I don't believe that. Here, let me help."

"I'm fine, Pharmer, I promise. This happens a lot. I swear, I'm fine."

"Let me help you," Pharmer sighed tiredly. He knew how panic attacks were and he knew Bud wouldn't be able to calm himself down. He hadn't gone into a full-blown panic yet, as he was still able to talk to Pharmer, so Pharmer counted that as a plus.

"Okay," he agreed softly. "But y' can't tell no one! Not — not Daddy, not Mama, nobody."

"Bud, why don't they—"

"They'd just replace me!" Bud struggled to draw in a breath.

"Hey, nonono, gimme your hand."

Pharmer took Bud's hand and placed it on his chest.

"Do what I do, okay?"

Bud nodded mutely. It was getting bad, it was getting very, very bad. He'd never been to the point that he struggled to breathe.

Pharmer took a deep breath, waiting for Bud to do the same. He released it, again waiting for Bud to release the breath he drew in. He repeated the motions for a moment, helping Bud calm down and catch his breath.

"I can't tell 'em," he breathed, placing his head on Pharmer's shoulder. "I jus' can't. They'll replace me 'cause I'm jus' a replacement an' I ain't really theirs, and—"

"Woah, woah, calm down. Calm down, easy. I watched them this evenin'. You're not just a replacement t' them."

"I'm a replacement, Pharmer! I've known that since August."

"August? But I thought—"

"William told me 'bout it when Daddy forced me t' go t' his place for a while. I asked him why Daddy didn't want me goin' wherever he was goin' and he told me 'bout Elli. That's what they called him. They called him Elli. I never told Daddy... I don't want him gettin' mad at William for tellin' me 'bout it. But... but William didn't tell me I was adopted. He made it out like I was really their kid."

"Bud, I don't care what you think, ya really need t' tell them. What if it gets t' where you can't calm down? I don't want you dyin' 'cause you're too dang stubborn t' tell Ellison about it."

"It's not gonna—"

"Ya don't know that," Pharmer cut him off. "How do ya know it won't get that bad?"

"I don't care! I'm not tellin' him."

Pharmer sighed. He knew that Bud would likely get mad at him, but he didn't care. Ellison needed to know in case it ever got worse than what it already was.

"Alright, Buddy. Go back t' sleep. 'M gonna go t' my room, okay?"

"Okay."

—

Bud was half-asleep when the door to his room opened again. He blinked owlishly, finding his father there with a concerned expression as he made his way over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, Ty," he murmured, scratching Bud's scalp. "Wanna tell me why ya never told me you're having panic attacks?"

Bud's heart skipped a beat.

"I can handle 'em," he mumbled.

"From what I was told, they're gettin' bad."

"It's not — it's not bad, Daddy. If it was bad, you woulda already known about it."

"Tyler, I should've known about it anyway. I don't care if you can calm yourself down or not."

"Why?" Bud's voice took a defensive edge to it. "So you can replace me too?"

"What are you talkin' about?" Ellison sighed tiredly.

"You got me t' replace the son that ya lost. That's why you got me. It's — it's not that you wanted me. It's that you wanted someone t' replace the baby that you lost."

Ellison gaped at him, eyes wide and jaw slack while he stared, trying to form words. Where would Bud get such a ludicrous idea?

"Where on earth did ya get an idea like that?" Ellison demanded after a moment.

"It didn't take much t' figure it out!"

"Tyler, if I didn't want you—"

"Don't give me that," he groaned exasperatedly, turning onto his back and throwing an arm over his head. "Do not give me that bull."

"You're not a replacement," Ellison stated, his voice trembling.

"It's a'ight, Daddy. Ya ain't gotta lie. I've known that since August."

"August?"

"When ya forced me t' go t' William's. I asked him why ya wouldn't tell me where ya was goin' and he was honest. But he made it out like I'm really yours and... and I thought I was. But he told me what happened. He told me about Elli and that he died when he was a week old, and that after I was born, you just... you became happy again. I replaced the son you lost."

"You didn't replace anybody. And Anse had no right—"

"He tried t' lie t' me. I wouldn't let him. He got by with one lie, though."

Ellison's throat constricted as he tried to regain control over his emotions. His emotions always went haywire when someone so much as mentioned Elli to him. He couldn't help it; he'd tried to stop it for thirteen years.

"He shoulda jus' told you t' ask me."

"So you could lie to me?"

"I have never lied t' you."

Bud scoffed.

"Uh-huh. And my name is really Tyler Jackson Hatfield, and I really am the son of Ellison and Sarah Ann Hatfield, and I'm an only child. Good Lord, ya've lied to me my whole life. Ya got me as a replacement. That's all I am."

"Ya ain't no—"

"I replaced your real son. That's what I did."

"Alright," Ellison nodded slightly. "If you replaced my real son, I replaced your real father. Do you hear how stupid that sounds, Tyler?"

"Daddy, I didn't mean—"

"Forget it."

Ellison got up and started to leave the room.

"Daddy! Daddy, wait, Daddy, I didn't mean—Daddy!"

Bud flinched when he slammed the door behind him, tears spilling onto his face. Maybe he should've found a better way to tell his father how he felt.

—

"Ellison, ya've got ta calm—"

"I don't wanna calm down!" Ellison all but shouted. "He said I lied t' him his whole life, Sarah. He said he's nothin' but a dagon replacement for Elli, who he's known about since August and he never bothered t' tell me that Anse told him about him! This is why I didn't want t' tell him. I didn't want t' tell him anything! Not about Elli and definitely not about his parents!"

"But he deserves t' know, Ellison."

"What does it matter?! They didn't raise him! They weren't the ones that bent over backwards for him, we were! We're his parents, Sarah!"

"We adopted him, Ellison, that's all we did. We gave him a good home. You have got t' calm down."

"We raised him, Sarah! We didn't just adopt him, we raised him!"

"Ellison—"

"What in the world is goin' on?" Anse questioned as he entered the room.

"You. Why the heck didn't you tell me that you told my son about Elli?" Ellison shoved his older brother roughly, causing him to stumble into the hallway.

"I thought he'd tell ya. Did he not tell you?"

"No, he didn't tell me! It's because of you and your big mouth that he thinks he's a dagon replacement!"

"Ellison, stop it," Wall barked, grabbing his younger brother and holding him back. "I don't know what's got ya so worked up, but ya need t' calm down a little."

Ellison huffed and broke loose, going back in his room.

Anse and Wall glanced at each other, each of them jumping when they heard glass shatter against the wall.

"Ellison," Sarah breathed. "Ellison, Ty bought that for you—"

"Sarah," he growled, "shut up."

"Jim, 'Lias, you try t' find out what happened from him. I'm gonna talk t' Tyler."

Wall slipped by them and entered his nephew's room, finding him staring at the door blankly.

"Hey, Ty. What happened?"

"I made Daddy mad. He don't want me no more!" Bud sobbed, covering his face with his hands. "I didn't mean t' make him mad, Wall, honest I didn't!"

"Hey, what happened, honey? I need more than ya made him mad."

"My stupid brother told Daddy I've been havin' panic attacks. They — they ain't bad, I can calm m'self down, but apparently, he felt that Daddy needed t' know, so he went n told him. Daddy came in here n asked 'bout it, so I was honest. I didn't tell him 'cause they're not bad. Daddy said that it didn't matter, that he should've known anyways, and I asked why. I asked if it was so he could replace me too.

"It went back n forth like that for a while. I told him that he didn't want me. He just wanted someone t' replace his son. It got t' where I told him that I was a replacement for his real son; that's all I am. And he said if I'm a replacement for his real son, he's a replacement for my real father. He asked if I heard how stupid it sounded.

"I feel so stupid for feelin' the way I do, Wall! I don't — I don't like feelin' this way, Wall, I really don't! I don't like feelin' like I'm nothin' but a dagon replacement for a child he didn't get t' raise, and I don't like feelin' like my entire life's been a lie. I feel — I feel betrayed and I know it's stupid, I know it is, but I jus' can't stop it, Wall."

Wall pulled him up to a sitting position and wrapped his arms around him tightly, letting the boy cry into his shoulder.

"Don't feel stupid. You feel the way ya feel, Tyler. Ya have every right t' be mad at him. Ya have every right t' feel betrayed. It's alright, Ty, it's okay."

"I—I shoulda found a better way t' tell him how I feel," Bud sniffled. "Daddy don't want me no more, Wall."

"Your daddy wants you. He loves you very much."

"No, he d-on't!" he insisted. "I tried t' get him t' come back after he got mad n started t' leave. He ignored me n slammed the door. I didn't mean t' make him mad."

"I know ya didn't. I know ya didn't mean for it t' go that way. You're thirteen, Ty. No one expects ya t' be perfect all the time. You get mad and hurt just like ev'ryone else. You may not be able t' control your emotions like the rest of us, though. Ya ain't as old as we are."

"I'm real scared, Wall. I don't wanna be replaced!"

"They're not gonna replace you. They can't replace you. I know ya've got it in yer head that yer a replacement for Elli, but yer not. Yer daddy wanted a baby. That's why he got you. You were perfect for him an' your mama. They wanted you an' they both love ya very much, honey. They ain't ever gonna get rid of ya."

"Y' sure? He was awful mad."

"Yer father won't tell ya this, Ty, but even someone mentionin' Elli's name makes him upset. So I reckon when he was in here, he got upset and that only made it worse when he did end up losin' his temper. Why don't ya try talkin' to him, hm?"

Bud slowly shook his head. He couldn't do that; Ellison was as mad as could be at him and he'd rather not risk making it worse.

"I can't do that," he muttered as he sat up, wiping his burning eyes. "I'll jus' make it worse."

"Ya will not. Talk to him. He'll listen, Tyler."

"I did it all wrong last time. He prob'ly don't wanna talk t' me right now." Bud hung his head and averted his gaze, picking at his nails.

"Ya won't know 'til ya try," Wall pointed out.

"A'ight," he agreed softly. "I'll — I'll try t—"

"I don't care! What gave you the impression that I care?!" Ellison's voice was heard.

Bud blanched. He sounded furious. Bud slowly got up and padded over to the door, gulping before he took a deep breath. What was he doing? He was going to make it worse, he knew he was. But he'd said that he would try. So Bud opened the door and stepped into the hall.

—

"Daddy?" Bud asked timidly, not daring to go any farther than the doorway.

"What, Tyler?" He whipped around to where he faced him, seeing the way he flinched.

"I'm — I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I won't bother ya none, Daddy, sorry," he rushed, averting his gaze.

"Tyler?" His voice softened. "Tyler, honey, c'mere."

"N-no, 's a'ight. I'll... I'll jus' go back t' my room, I'm sorry."

"Tyler Jackson Hatfield, git yer hide over here."

Bud shouldn't've been as scared as he was. He didn't know why he was so scared of his father; Ellison had never given him a reason to be scared of him.

Yet for some unknown reason, his heart was thundering in his chest and his palms were sweaty. Bud was trying his hardest to calm himself as he stepped inside the room, noticing the broken glass on his left.

"Anse, Jim, 'Lias, Sarah... I need t' talk t' him."

Bud tried not to flinch when the door clicked shut a few seconds later, but he failed.

"Sit down."

His eyes flicked up and met Ellison's, who was sitting on the side of the bed. Bud sat down beside him, keeping his eyes focused on his lap while he picked at his nails.

"I'm sorry," Bud blurted. "I didn't mean it. I just... I didn't mean it the way it sounded, I mean. I couldn't figure out any other way t' tell ya how I feel and I was frustrated and—and I'm real sorry, Daddy."

"Why're you apologizin'? Ya didn't do anythin' wrong."

Bud looked up at his father with wide eyes, blinking. Surely he hadn't heard him right. He'd been so angry not even a moment ago and now he sounded calm. There was no way Bud had heard him right.

"I shouldn't've lost my temper with ya. I should've known that that overactive brain of yers would come up with somethin' crazy an' that you'd believe it. An' I shoulda been more honest with ya up 'til now. Ya had and still have ev'ry right t' be mad at me over the things I kept from ya. It was never done with the intention t' hurt you, though. I don't talk about Elli with anybody if I'm honest with ya. Not even yer Mama. It hurts a little too much still."

Bud bit on his lip, staring at his father.

"Was he... was he like me? Is that why you wanted me?"

"You an' Elli really wa'n't alike at all. Elli was blonde with blue eyes. Yer a brunette with hazel eyes. You was a lot less fussy than Elli was too. But Elli was sickly, so I reckon that was expected when we brought him home. We knew from the start he wasn't gonna live long, so we had the choice of bringin' him home or makin' him stay in the hospital. I brought him home two days after he was born."

"Was he... here?" Bud asked hesitantly.

"He was here for five days. Slept in here with me n yer Mama, just like you used to. Had a crib in the corner over there that we put ya in. I was the one that found Elli. Yer Mama said she'd put him down for a nap about an hour 'fore I came home from work that day, and she asked me t' check on him since I was headin' up here anyways. So I agreed to it.

"Came in here and took off my boots, left 'em by the dresser in the same place they are now. I thought it was strange that Elli hadn't woke from a nap he'd been takin' for an hour. He never slept longer than twenty minutes, day or night. So I... I picked him up, and he was cold, Ty. His skin was ice cold. And then I noticed he wasn't breathin'. I tried my hardest t' revive him; did CPR and all that. It was too late.

"Anse thought I was absolutely crazy when I told him I'd already put in t' be a foster parent at the funeral. The funeral was a private service that happened three days after Elli died. We buried him in the fam'ly cemetery. Sometimes... sometimes, I catch myself imaginin' what my life woulda been like with the both of ya t'gether. I imagine that the two of ya woulda got along jus' fine and that ya woulda loved each other. I imagine what he mighta looked like when he got older. Then I usually cry for a while."

"Uncle Wall says ya don't really like talkin' 'bout Elli. Says it upsets ya when someone even mentions him. I'm sorry for makin' ya upset, Daddy. I didn't know it upset ya or I never woulda said anythin'."

"I want you t' talk t' me, Tyler," Ellison sighed. "I don't care if it's somethin' you want t' know 'bout Elli or your birth family, if ya wanna know it, ask me. If you think it's somethin' that ain't important but ya still wanna tell me, jus' tell me. And when ya have another panic attack, please come to me. I love you, son. I ain't gonna lose you over somethin' as silly as a lil argument."

"I don't understand, Daddy. You... you want me? After what I said, ya still want me?"

"Course I do, honey. Yer still my son, ain't ya? I don't see why I wouldn't want ya. You're a good son. I can't imagine havin' anyone but you as my son, even if ya ain't really mine."

"Reckon I shoulda been a little more honest?" he rasped, his throat closing up as he fought to suppress his tears.

"Woulda been nice. I would've liked to have known that you felt like you were a replacement. And I would've liked to have known that you felt like I'd lied to ya yer whole life."

"I feel stupid for feelin' the way I do," Bud confessed. "I shouldn't feel like I replaced the child you didn't get to raise, and I shouldn't feel like my whole life's been a lie. I shouldn't feel betrayed and I don't know why I do."

Ellison pulled Bud close, wrapping his arms around him.

"Don't feel stupid. Don't wave off how ya feel neither. I want ya t' talk to me when ya feel like that, though. I didn't mean t' lose my temper earlier when ya tried talkin' to me."

"'S a'ight. I lost my temper too."

Ellison chuckled and kissed Bud's temple.

"C'mon, up here. We'll sit an' we'll talk until we understand each other. How's that sound?"

"Sounds good t' me, Daddy."

—

May 2015

Bud swallowed thickly as he followed Ellison through the cemetery, stopping in front of a headstone.

"This is Elli's grave," Ellison whispered. "Never wanted t' bring you out here 'cause I knew you'd find this one an' ask who it was. But since ya know all 'bout Elli now... I think ya have a right t' roam the cemetery if ya want to. We got some over there that died in the 1890s, still got the original stone n ev'rythin'. We did get a new marker for them so's we know who they are, but we left the original ones."

"That's pretty cool," Bud murmured, his eyes scanning the words carved into Elli's headstone.

"Ya know... I think yer Mama thought I'd lost my mind when I told her I'd already put in t' be a foster parent the day after he died. Then after we got you, I pulled out of it. I got the baby I wanted and I didn't think it was right t' leave my name in the system when there's people who want children. I gotta say though, I never thought I'd be standin' here with you. I'd planned t' keep Elli a secret as long as possible, but with everything that happened... Well, I think you should know all that ya can about him. He is your brother."

Bud laid his head against Ellison's shoulder, a sense of guilt overwhelming him. He'd claimed that Ellison had only gotten him to replace Elli. And now that he was here with his father, he could see that no one had been replaced. Ellison still loved Elli as much as he had when he was alive, and Bud wasn't sure Ellison would ever get over the grief that he was expressing now.

It was the first time he'd ever seen his father grieve and he didn't like it. He was used to Ellison being happy and cheerful, always making jokes or trying to lighten Bud's bad mood. He wasn't used to his father trying to suppress his tears and discreetly wipe at the few that spilled onto his face, and he wasn't used to him looking as somber as he did.

"Y'know... I still think I would've gotten you. Even if Elli had lived, I would've gotten you."

Bud looked up at him.

"Why?"

"Well, it's like I said before — it's like God made you for me. You're my son, even if ya ain't biologically mine. I've had ya yer whole life and I love ya more than anythin', kiddo. I can't imagine my life without you in it."

Bud smiled softly.

"I don't want life any other way," he mumbled. "I love you n Mama. Don't want anyone else but you n her. I mean, I love my brothers n sisters, but — but I don't need them, ya know? I made it thirteen years without 'em. I don't think I woulda made it without you n Mama."

"Sure ya would've. If I hadn't taken you, someone else would've."

"But they didn't. You did an' I'm glad ya did. I like bein' your son, Daddy."

"An' I like bein' your father."

"I'm sorry for mentionin' Elli the way I did in November. Uncle Wall said it makes ya upset and... I'm real sorry I ever said ya only got me t' replace him."

Ellison sighed heavily, wrapping an arm around his son.

"Don't apologize. I think it's normal for ya t' think that after findin' out the truth. Ya had a good reason for thinkin' it, baby. I never shoulda ignored ya the way I did when I got mad."

Bud hummed, throwing his arms around his father's waist.

"I can understand it. I don't wanna talk t' people when I get mad at 'em either, Daddy."

Ellison chuckled breathlessly.

"Well, now that you've been out here, would ya like t' go home?"

"Yeah."

—

Bud looked over at Sarah, brows furrowed as he watched her sew one of his shirts.

"There a reason why you're starin', Ty?"

"Did you want me when Daddy came home with me?" Bud asked suddenly.

Sarah stared at him in shock for a few seconds, trying to recover from the sudden blow that she hadn't been expecting.

"I wanted a baby, yes," she answered once she'd recovered her voice. "I did think that your father was divin' into it head-first 'cause he was desperate t' find a way t' distract him from his grief. Not that he got you as a distraction... he just knew that he'd be busy if he got another baby. Babies are fussy and demanding. They want what they want when they want it. You were a peaceful baby, though. The first few nights you weren't, but I reckon ya got used to us an' ya became peaceful. Your daddy was the one gettin' up in the middle of the night. Somehow he always heard you first."

"So... I'm a distraction?"

"No. You're our baby. Ya just... came in our lives at the right time."

"I'm confused, Mama," he shook his head. "Y' said Daddy dove in head-first t' distract himself. Then I've gotta be a distraction."

"You're not a distraction. I shoulda found a better way to word that. He dove in head-first because he was tryin' t' find a way to cope with his grief. So he got himself a baby and he has poured his heart and soul int' raisin' that baby. He's given him all the love that he can and he's still givin' it to him. Yer daddy might not admit it, Tyler, but you were his saving grace."

"Whaddaya mean by that?"

"He was depressed the few months we lived without you. I worried about him every single day when he was like that. I was always scared he'd do somethin' irrational and he'd end up dead or that he'd hurt himself real bad. Then in January, you came along. And God, did he change. He changed for the better. He stayed up with ya that first night. Neither one of ya slept a wink 'cause you was cryin' an' wouldn't go t' sleep. And even when you finally did, he didn't. He just sat there and held ya, stared down at ya like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen."

Bud moved from the chair he was sitting in and sat on the couch beside his mother, wrapping his arms around her arm and placing his head on her shoulder. Sarah brought her left hand up and scratched his scalp, earning a hum of satisfaction as his eyes fluttered shut.

"That feels good, Mama," he murmured. Sarah giggled.

"Glad ya like it, baby."

He hummed and shifted to get more comfortable.

"I didn't sleep much last night," he admitted, his eyelids becoming heavy.

"Why not?" Sarah queried. It wasn't like Bud to stay up half the night.

"Woke m'self up screamin'. Didn't wanna go back t' sleep after that." Bud swallowed the lump in his throat. "Don't think I could've went back t' sleep after that."

"I understand. Why don't ya get some sleep, hm? I'll wake ya up when yer daddy gets home."

"Mkay, Mama. Love you."

"Love you too, baby."

—

Ellison sighed as he entered the kitchen, tossing his keys on the counter.

"Where's my son?"

"He's on the couch. Ya might have t' wake him up if he ain't woke himself up already," Sarah replied, glancing at her husband.

"A'ight, thank ya."

Ellison walked to the living room and spotted the lump on the couch underneath a thick, fluffy blanket. He could see a few strands of honey-brown hair splayed across the pillow at the other end, but that was the only indication that it was his son laying there.

He chuckled and approached, crouching down and peeling the blanket down past his face, finding his son sleeping soundly with his lips parted.

"Hey, Buddy," Ellison whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. "Buddy."

He stirred and made a noise in the back of his throat, but he didn't wake.

"Tyler. Come on, Ty, wake up."

"No, go 'way," he groaned, lazily swatting at his father. "'M tired."

"Tyler, honey, if you don't get up now, you'll be up all night. C'mon, get up, baby. We're s'pposed t' go ridin', remember?"

Bud's eyes shot open, his hazel-green eyes meeting his father's brown eyes.

"Oh, now you're up?" Ellison teased, pinching his side.

"I'm up, Daddy, stop," he grumbled. "'M jus' tired."

"What're you so tired for, hm?"

"Didn't sleep much last night," he whispered, rubbing his eyes. "I woke myself up screamin', Daddy. I've never done that b'fore."

"What in the world did you dream about?"

"I don't know. I can't remember. I... I remember you n Mama bein' involved, and — and I think it was my birth parents? I don't know, Daddy, I can't remember," he shook his head as he sat up. "That scares me a lot. I can't remember what scared me."

"Don't worry about it, baby. It's alright. If it happens again, just wake me up, alright? I can't help ya if I don't know somethin's wrong."

"I know. I just... I don't wanna bother you at night. You n Mama deal with me so much durin' the day, I jus' figure I should keep t' myself at night."

"It's my job t' help you when you need help. That's part of bein' a parent — bein' there for your children when they need you."

"I don't... I don't think it'll happen again," Bud stammered, averting his gaze. "I don't have dreams like that very often."

"Well, if it does happen again, tell me. I'll help ya calm down. Ya know I don't care to."

"It's jus' the point, Daddy," he huffed. "'M thirteen! It's embarrassin' t' go t' you when I have a nightmare."

"There ain't nothin' wrong with it. Lord knows I don't care t' help ya calm down."

"I know... it's jus' the point, Daddy."

"I know," Ellison sighed. "C'mon, you wanna go ridin' or not?"

"Yeah. Let me change an' I'll be out."

"Alright. Hey... I love you."

"I love you too."

—

"DADDY!"

Bud lurched to a sitting position, breathing heavily. The door to his room swung open, Ellison rushing inside.

"What, baby?"

"D-Daddy! Daddy, I can't — oh God, Daddy!" Bud sobbed, hanging his head.

"Hey, hey, easy, honey. Easy. You're alright, you're okay. Breathe."

Bud drew in a strangled breath, shoving his face into Ellison's shoulder.

"I didn't — I didn't think it'd happen 'gain, Daddy!" Bud whimpered, clinging tightly to his father.

"I know, honey, I know. You're okay, it's okay. Easy, baby."

"It's — oh God, Daddy, I can't, I can't breathe right! Daddy, I can't breathe!"

"Yeah, ya can. Take in a deep breath, Buddy," Ellison instructed gently. Bud drew in a strangled breath. "There ya go, baby. Keep breathin'."

"Hurts, Daddy, hurts," he choked out. "Lungs hurt."

"'Cause ya ain't breathin' right, Tyler. Come on, baby, breathe."

Bud drew in another breath, his hazel eyes meeting his father's. It continued on like that for a moment with Ellison coaching him and Bud drawing in deep breaths. And after that moment, Bud calmed down and slumped against his father.

"You okay now?" Ellison murmured, pulling his fingers through Bud's hair.

"Mhm. 'M fine."

"Want me t' stay?"

"Please," Bud pleaded softly. "I don't wanna be alone. I don't — I don't wanna be by myself t'night, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry 'bout it, honey. I don't care t' stay in here with ya."

"Thank ya, Daddy."

Ellison hummed as he climbed on the bed, lying down beside his son. Bud curled up against him and nuzzled against his chest, wrapping his arms around Ellison's middle. Ellison wrapped an arm around Bud, his hand rubbing Bud's arm.

"I didn't think it'd happen 'gain, Daddy. I never have dreams like that," Bud whispered shakily. "It scares me."

"I know it does. Sometimes it happens, baby. It ain't no big deal if ya need me t' stay in here wit'cha. I won't lie to ya, Tyler, there's been times I wouldn't go back t' sleep 'cause of a dream I had. Did it not too long ago. But usually, when I have a dream like that, I get up n check on you. I'm usually okay when I know you're okay."

"I can't remember what scares me in the dream. I... I remember that you're there, an' Mama, an' my birth parents, and all my siblings, even Jim n Tolbert. There was a baby, too. Blonde with blue eyes. I dunno, Daddy, it confuses me. I can't remember what scared me so bad."

"Maybe it's best that ya don't," Ellison murmured. "Maybe ya don't need t' know what scares ya."

"It's just weird. I can r'member who's in it, I can r'member Tolbert talkin' to me. I r'member you lookin' scared n my birth parents lookin' the same way. Then it's blank after that. Sorta like it all goes black, but I know somethin' happened 'fore I woke myself up screamin' again."

"Don't think on it too much. Maybe it's better that ya don't know, Bud. Sometimes things like that are good."

"I reckon," he murmured. "It's jus' weird, ya know? I've never had nightmares two nights in a row, an' I've never not known what scared me. It's really weird, Daddy."

"I know, baby. Don't spend too much time thinkin' 'bout it."

"You ever done that?" Bud tilted his head upward so he could see his father.

"Once or twice," he nodded. "It was when you were real little. Woke up scared outta my wits n couldn't remember what scared me. That only scared me more."

"So it's normal? I'm not insane or anythin' like that?"

"Nah, you're not insane. A little strange, maybe, but ya ain't insane."

"Oh, Daddy!" Bud smacked his chest, earning a boisterous laugh. "I ain't that strange."

Ellison hummed, bending down and kissing the top of Bud's head.

"I love you, Tyler Jackson," he mumbled.

"Love y' too, Daddy."

—

Bud waved to William as he entered his home, heading straight for the staircase. William reciprocated the gesture as Bud started to ascend the stairs.

He walked down the hall and opened the door to Cap's room, finding his cousin sprawled on his bed.

"Hey," Cap greeted as he closed the door.

"Hey," Bud murmured.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't even know," he sighed. "I've been thinkin' again."

"Come sit down. Talk t' me."

Bud moved to where he sat beside him, sniffling.

"I can't even think straight anymore, Cap," he chuckled, wiping at his eyes. "Ever since I found out... I ain't been able t' think straight. I don't think Daddy's noticed. I know Mama ain't noticed."

"Do ya want them t' notice?" Cap quirked a brow.

"I don't know," he groaned exasperatedly. "That's the problem — I don't know. I don't know anything anymore!"

"Well... what'd ya wanna talk t' me about?"

"I... I know I can trust you, so I always talk t' you, y'know?" Bud glanced at Cap, who sat up and nodded. "I just... I feel like you listen. And I'm sorry for botherin' ya so much, I really am. But it's like you're the only person who listens without gettin' mad at me or goin' an' tellin' Daddy."

"I don't tell anyone if ya tell me not to. And ya don't bother me. If I didn't wanna listen, I wouldn't listen."

"Daddy's been talkin' 'bout Elli a lot lately," Bud said swiftly. "It's jus'... I dunno, ever since he found out that I've known since August, Elli's been brought up every single day. I-I know it's stupid, everything I've felt and thought lately has been stupid, but I get t' thinkin' and it just — how do I word it? It seems like I realize somethin' every time I let myself get lost in my thoughts."

"Like what?" Cap shifted slightly.

"Like he loves Elli more."

"How could he possibly do that?" Cap scoffed. "Elli's been dead for thirteen years."

"I know that. Ya see how stupid it sounds? It just... I dunno, Cap, it really don't — Daddy loves Elli more 'cause he's his real son. Even if he died 'fore Daddy had the chance t' raise him, he loves him more. An' I reckon it's okay. I mean, I'm not really his son. Why would he love me more than he does his real one?"

"Ty... I really don't think he loves Elli more. I mean, I totally understand what you're sayin', I can see how ya got t' the point that ya think that, but I don't think he loves Elli more than he does you. I think he loves you more than he does Elli, but he feels like he can finally talk about him."

"Maybe. But it's diff'rent with me n Elli. He can get rid of me if he wants to, can easily deny me. Take a DNA test and I'm a McCoy. I ain't a Hatfield."

"You're really strugglin' with your thoughts, ain't ya?" Cap asked softly.

"Mhm," he hummed and nodded, fighting against his tears. "I can't stop 'em, Cap. I've tried."

"I think it's normal. And I think ya need t' talk t' Ellison. Ellison can help ya with it more than I can. Ya know that as well as I do, Tyler."

"He's mad at me again," Bud whispered. "I stopped goin' to him when I have panic attacks. I can calm myself down, I don't need t' wake him up. He caught me havin' one last night n got mad when he found out I ain't been goin' to him. Told him I can handle it myself an' it jus' made it worse. I don't understand why he gets mad at me over that. He looked at me last night n told me he knew it wa'n't 'cause of no stupid reason like last time. I made him mad again, Cap. Reckon I won't talk t' him 'til he calms down 'gain."

Cap sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He should've known that was why Bud had come straight to him.

"Ya sure he's still mad at ya?"

"Yeah. He didn't speak t' me at all this mornin'."

"Did you lose your temper last night?"

"No. All I said was that I didn't need t' wake him up when they weren't bad n I could calm myself down. He got mad at me."

"It's not like Ellison t' get mad over somethin' like that," Cap murmured mostly to himself.

"I know. I don't understand why he got mad at me. He asked and I answered truthfully, I told him they weren't bad n I could calm myself down. I don't know what I did wrong this time. Daddy never gets mad unless I do somethin' wrong."

"Who's t' say you're the one that's wrong?" Cap countered. "What if he's wrong, Ty?"

"Daddy's never wrong," Bud disputed swiftly. "Not once has he ever been wrong."

"He didn't handle it very well when he got mad at you last time."

"Daddy don't get mad often. When he does, he's a force t' be reckoned with."

"I'd say. If he's anything like Daddy, he's scary when he gets mad."

"Yeah..." Bud trailed off, placing his head against Cap's shoulder. "He can be scary."

"Ya scared of him?" Cap turned his head toward him.

"Not unless he's mad at me. As if he wasn't scary enough, now I've got all kinds of things t' consider when he's mad at me. Like — like he could easily get rid of me if he wanted to, that if he decided he don't want me anymore, it wouldn't take much t' get rid of me. Or maybe he don't want me but he's lettin' me stay outta pity. The way Mama put it, I was a distraction when he got me. I distracted him from his grief and replaced the baby that he lost. That's all I did, Cap."

"Maybe he'll calm down by the time ya go home."

"I doubt it."

—

Bud knew that Ellison was likely going to kill him when he found out that he'd swiped the cases of moonshine he'd hidden beneath the sink, but Bud didn't care.

He'd taken off to the shed, closing the door with his foot and making his way to the farthest corner, sitting against the wall and placing the two cases of moonshine down. Bud didn't know why Ellison had it; Ellison never drank moonshine.

He grabbed one of the bottles and removed the wooden cork, taking a swig. It burned his throat and tasted bitter, but he didn't care. He felt that he could get back at his father this way; that if he did one thing that he knew would make Ellison mad, he would be even with him.

Bud didn't care if he found him or not. He knew that Ellison would figure it out sooner or later and that he'd get mad at him, but he didn't care. Bud couldn't have cared less about it.

He took another swig of moonshine, licking his lips. It was going to be a long day.

—

Bud was undeniably drunk. He was drunk after he'd finished the first bottle of moonshine, but he'd kept drinking, as it had started to make him forget about his problems.

He heard the door open and shut, but he remained silent, leaning his head back against the wall. He exhaled deeply, holding the bottle he'd been drinking from in his hand. He lifted it and took a sip, licking his lips as he lowered his hand again.

Ellison found him.

The concern on his face morphed into fury when he saw Bud, Ellison sighing deeply as he grabbed Bud's bicep and pulled him to his feet.

"What the heck is wrong with you?" he demanded.

"Nothin', Daddy," Bud slurred, shaking his head slightly.

"I swear, Tyler, I don't know what t' do with ya anymore! Want me t' hit ya? Is that what yer goin' for?!"

"Daddy, I—"

Bud stopped talking when his father backhanded him, causing his head to whip to his left. He slowly brought his right hand up, cupping his stinging cheek as he stared at his father with his lips parted, trying to form words.

"Elli never woulda gave me this much trouble," Ellison scoffed. "He woulda listened t' me."

Bud's heart sunk to his stomach. Was that a way of saying he didn't want him anymore? That Ellison had always loved Elli more than Bud and he always would?

"There's not many things I tell you not t' do. Why can't you listen t' me? I never shoulda told you that you're adopted. I've had nothin' but trouble outta you ever since you found that out. Ya think that jus' 'cause ya ain't really mine that ya can do whatever the heck you want? Is that what's wrong with ya, Tyler?"

"N-no," Bud shook his head.

"My God, Tyler, what am I s'pposed t' do with you?! Ya won't listen!"

Bud flinched away from him when he stepped closer.

"You have lost your dagon mind. You're insane, Tyler, that's what you are! I've never seen someone so hard to handle in my life! I never had a bit of trouble outta you 'fore ya found out you're adopted. Now ya run off t' Anse's house ev'ry time I get a little mad at you like you're some baby that needs t' be coddled. So what's wrong with you, huh? Do ya not wanna live here or somethin'? I'm sure we can work somethin' out if ya don't wanna live here."

Tears welled in Bud's hazel eyes, his breath hitching. He hadn't meant to make him so mad. He'd just wanted to get even with him, to do something out of spite so Ellison really would have a reason to get mad at him. He'd never meant for it to go as far as it had.

"Do you not realize that ya can get the both of us in trouble?! You're underage! If anyone finds out that you're drunk an' reports it, I'm goin' t' jail and you're goin' in the system. Ya want that? Huh? Ya want that, Tyler?!" Ellison shouted. Bud shook his head. "Git yer hide in that house, ya understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir," Bud forced out.

He blanched when Ellison roughly grabbed his arm, dragging him out of the shed and inside the house. He was practically dragged up the stairs and down the hall to his room, where his father only shoved him on the bed and covered him up.

"Sleep it off, ya moron," he grumbled. "We're gonna talk when you're sober."

—

Ellison was furious. He'd never had so much trouble out of Bud; it was almost like he was doing it just to see what he could get away with.

"Ellison, where's Tyler?" Sarah asked as she entered their room, tossing her braided hair over her shoulder.

"He's in bed 'cause he's drunk. I swear, sometimes he's a dagon idiot."

"Drunk? Tyler? Are ya sure?"

"He took the dagon 'shine out from under the sink, Sarah! At this point, it's like he's tryin' t' see what he can get away with! That boy is as drunk as could be, and he don't care! Maybe he's tryin' t' hint that he don't wanna live here anymore, I don't know. I'm 'bout t' give him what he wants."

"You'll do no such thing," Sarah stated firmly. "He's a boy, Ellison. Boys do stupid things."

"Well, he knows better than t' do that," he seethed. "I've told him time an' time again not t' touch the dagon 'shine. He can get both of us in trouble, ya know that? We'll be goin' t' jail n he'll be put in the system again!"

"Ellison, ya need t' calm down."

"Why is it every time he does somethin', I'm the one who needs t' calm down?"

"'Cause yer gonna end up doin' somethin' ya regret if ya don't control that temper of yours. He's struggling, Ellison. And he's tryin' his darndest t' hide it from us. He's tryin' t' hide how much he's hurting and struggling with everything. He tries t' hide how much it hurts him when you say certain things or get mad at him the way ya do. Ya've never been hot-headed, Ellison, but here lately, ya've gotten mad at him over every little thing."

"Yeah, of course. I'm always the one in the wrong, Sarah."

"I never said that. I said you've been gettin' mad at him a lot over every little thing."

"So what, I'm supposed t' just let him do what he wants? Let him run around and get drunk, let him get himself hurt? That what ya want?" Ellison raised his voice.

"No. What I want is for you t' calm down and talk t' him. Maybe ya both need t' listen t' each other, I don't know. But I know that this ain't like the two of ya. My boys don't do this."

"We're gonna end up losin' him anyways, so what's it matter?" Ellison asked shakily.

"What're you talkin' about?" Sarah sighed tiredly.

"He'll leave us an' go t' his real family. Once they put the idea in his head, he'll want t' leave. I'm not gonna be the one gettin' hurt when he leaves."

"You're scared," she murmured, eyes widening in realization. "Ya can't control your mean temper 'cause you're scared."

"I'm not scared," he denied, his voice still trembling as he played with a loose string on his shirt. "I don't care if he does leave."

"And you're a liar."

Ellison's eyes flicked up and met Sarah's. He didn't say anything; he just nodded slightly.

"I know you, Ellison. You're scared you're gonna lose him too."

"Ya don't understand. You'll never understand it, a'ight? You'll never understand how much it hurts t' lose your child. I'd rather not go through it again with this one."

"Who says that ya will? Tyler loves you. That little boy loves you more than anyone else in this world. You're not gonna help anybody by losin' your temper all the time. Ya ain't gonna help him by screamin' at him, Ellison."

"I know," his voice dropped to a whisper.

"Ya ever thought about it, Ellison? That maybe he was hidin' somethin' from ya?"

"No."

"How many times have ya gotten mad at him without a reason?"

"God, I don't know," he shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Gettin' mad at him for no reason will make him do somethin' t' make ya mad. I know our son, Ellison, and I know that he got drunk t' spite ya."

"He can find better ways t' spite me," Ellison mumbled, earning a snort from his wife. "I'd rather not have a heart attack 'cause my son's disappeared with moonshine."

"Did ya get mad at him again?"

"Of course, I got mad at him again! He didn't care at all. Didn't even really try t' hide. Sittin' in the shed drinkin' 'shine like it's somethin' he's done his entire life."

"Don't matter none. Did ya not think t' ask him first?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I got mad, Sarah!" he responded irritably. "I saw him drinkin' an' I got mad, a'ight?!"

"Calm down. I'm just tryin' t' talk to ya, Ellison."

Ellison huffed and pulled his fingers through his hair.

"I'm calm, Sarah. Just a little annoyed."

"Go see if he's awake. If I know Ty like I think I do, he's still awake in there."

"Why don't you?" he said swiftly.

"A'ight, what'd ya do, Ellison?" Sarah queried, sitting down beside him.

"Got mad. I wa'n't very nice to him. I didn't even think, Sarah. I hit him."

"You what?" Sarah gawked.

"I hit him," Ellison repeated. "I backhanded him across the face."

"Go talk to him."

"Sarah—"

"It's best ya fix it now rather than try to later."

"Alright."

—

Ellison didn't go to Bud's room until the next morning. (Well, he'd checked the night before and Bud had been sleeping, so he'd left him alone.)

When he entered the room, Bud was blankly staring at the wall, tears rolling down his pale face. Ellison closed the door, causing him to look at him.

"Hey, baby."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he blurted, sniffling as he sat up. "I just — I was mad an' I didn't think it through, an' I'm so sorry, Daddy!"

"Woah, hey, easy, Tyler. I'm not mad. I never should've lost my temper with ya. Last night or any time before that."

"N-no, it's alright. I d'served it. Ev'ry time ya've gotten mad at me, I've d'served it over somethin' I've done or said. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry for hurtin' you. I shouldn't've laid a hand on you."

"No, you were right. You're always right."

"I'm not always right. I was wrong. The second I drew my hand back on you, I was in the wrong. I never should've hit you, ya understand me? I shouldn't've put my hand on you."

"It's okay," he said swiftly. "I'm sorry for gettin' drunk. And I'm sorry for everything I've done lately. I'm really sorry, Daddy."

"Hey, stop," Ellison muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Stop. Calm down an' talk to me, honey."

Bud tensed and bit his lip, trying to force himself to calm down.

"I'm really sorry. I... I know I ain't the son ya want, I can't be the son ya want. Y' want Elli n I ain't Elli. 'M sorry. I'll — I'll make it seem like I ain't here, I'll only do what you n Mama tells me to, I swear it—"

"Woah! Woah, baby, where'd you get that idea? I want you. Don't want no one but you."

"No," he shook his head, "y' said y' never woulda had this much trouble outta Elli, that he woulda listened. I—I'm sorry, Daddy. I don't know what else t' say other than 'm sorry an' that I won't bother ya none. I don't wanna live nowhere else, I swear I don't, Daddy. Y' can hit me if ya want, I don't care. Won't tell if ya do, I promise, Daddy."

Ellison's heart shattered.

"Oh God, honey, no."

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"Hey, hey, look at me. I am never gonna hit you again. I ain't ever gonna get mad at ya without a reason, an' I ain't gonna let myself say stupid things I don't mean. I never meant t' hurt ya or make ya feel that way, Ty. I never meant t' put it in your head that I don't want you. You're my baby. Why wouldn't I want you?"

"I'm not yours, though. Y' can get rid of me anytime ya want, deny me if ya wanna. I look nothin' like you or Mama, an' it'd be easily proven that I ain't yours. I ain't a good son, I'm sorry I'm not. But I love y', Daddy. I love y' a lot. I know that don't really mean nothin', but I do. I love ya a lot, Daddy."

"I ain't ever gonna deny ya or get rid of ya. Ya ain't somethin' that can be replaced or forgotten. Yer my son, my little boy, even if ya ain't that little anymore. Ya might not be my biological son, Tyler, but I've had ya all your life. I raised ya an' I love ya more than anythin' else in this world. You sayin' that ya love me means ev'rythin' to me.

"I try my best t' give ya a good home n a good life. Try t' give ya someone you can look up to when ya need to. Try t' always be here n be willin' t' listen. I ain't been doin' very good with those last two things. I've been s' scared that I couldn't control my temper. And I'm sorry. I shoulda listened to ya, baby. If I woulda listened when ya tried talkin' to me, ya never woulda done what ya did. I'm really sorry, baby."

"'S okay, Daddy. I understand why ya were mad last night. Never seen ya that mad before, though. Y' scared me a little."

"I know I did. I should never scare you, know that? I'm not supposed t' scare you. Tell me when I do. It's never done on purpose."

"It's fine. Don't hurt t' be scared now n then. But I did whatcha said last night. I slept it off."

"I know you did. I came in t' see if you were still awake n you were sleepin'. I figure all that 'shine you drank helped with it."

"Prolly," he nodded in agreement.

"Ya gonna do it again?" Ellison shot him a look.

"No, sir. Won't ever touch it 'gain, I swear."

"I think ya learned yer lesson the hard way with that one. An' I don't think I'll ever have t' worry 'bout you drinkin' again. Ya found out the hard way that ya get sick in the mornin', didn't ya?"

"Yeah."

"Thought so. Sickness go away?"

"Mhm," he hummed, leaning into his father's touch when he gently cupped Bud's cheek. He rubbed his thumb against Bud's skin, watching his eyes flutter shut.

Ellison smiled softly, watching his son relax. It had been a while since he'd seen him look so relaxed, and he knew that he was the one that was mostly at fault for it. He'd made Bud so uneasy that he hadn't felt comfortable enough to relax in his own home.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he said again, forcing his eyes open. "I promise I won't give ya no trouble. Promise I'll jus' do what you n Mama tell me to. Won't do nothin' else n I won't bother ya. I promise."

"Tyler Jackson, stop apologizin' an' promisin' that ya won't do anythin'. I want ya t' do whatever ya want to, son. Just... not things that'll get ya in a bunch of trouble. An' if ya ain't sure 'bout the consequences of somethin', just ask me. Okay?"

"Okay. But I'm still—"

"You say sorry one more time an' I'll knock you out like a light," Ellison threatened, even though Bud knew he was joking.

"That ain't very nice," Bud quipped, the corner of his lip turning upward.

"Did I ever claim t' be nice?" Ellison retorted.

"Once or twice," Bud shrugged lightly.

"Yeah, okay. C'mere, son, gimme a hug."

Bud giggled and scooted closer, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his head in the crook of Ellison's neck. Ellison wrapped his arms around him, rubbing Bud's back.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, baby."

—

September 2015

Bud didn't want to move. He felt absolutely horrible and he didn't want to move from his bed.

He didn't really know what was wrong with him; he knew that his head and chest hurt, and that his body was going from too hot to too cold in less than three seconds, so he figured his best bet was to stay in bed.

"Ty? C'mon, baby, we gotta — what in the world happened t' you?" Ellison blinked when he saw him.

"Don't feel s' good, Daddy," he rasped, wincing at the sound of his voice.

"Yeah, I can tell," Ellison murmured mostly to himself. "How 'bout you stay here in bed t'day, hm? I'll bring ya somethin' back."

Bud nodded. That sounded like a wonderful idea.

"Whatcha want?"

"I dunno. Jus' somethin', Daddy," he mumbled, closing his eyes as Ellison smoothed his hair back. He turned his head away from him and brought his right hand up, coughing harshly.

"Or maybe we can postpone—"

"N-no, 'm okay, Daddy. You an' Mama can go. 'S fer William's birthday."

"I know what it's for. But I wouldn't care t' skip it this year if you want me to. I've been goin' t' his birthday dinner all my life, Tyler. It won't hurt t' miss it one year."

"But Daddy—"

"Don't ya but Daddy me. We'll arrange our own little dinner for him when you get better, that way you don't miss anything and I don't worry myself sick. I'll even let ya plan it out if that'll make ya happy."

"Okay," Bud agreed softly. "Hey, Daddy?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Will y' stay here wit' me?"

Ellison chuckled softly. He should've expected that. Bud had always been clingy when he was sick.

"Yeah. Let me go tell yer Mama that we ain't goin' so she can call Levicy. I'll be right back, okay?"

"'Kay. Thank you."

"Think nothin' of it, Buddy."

—

Ellison sighed as he rinsed Bud's hair, knowing that his son was humiliated. Bud had woken up and thrown up all over himself before he even had the chance to move, and with the way he was — delirious and having little to no motor skills — Ellison didn't trust to leave him in the bathtub on his own.

"'M sorry, Daddy," Bud mumbled, putting his forehead against his knees.

"No, it's okay, baby. Ya couldn't help it."

"Feel awful." He stopped talking as bile rose in his throat. He swallowed thickly. "I dunno wha's wrong wit' me."

"You're sick. That's what's wrong wit'cha."

"I've never done that, though," Bud pointed out.

"Well... well, maybe there's just somethin' diff'rent this time. It's fine, we'll find a way to fix it so it won't happen again. And even if it does, it's not a big deal. I don't care t' help, kiddo."

"I feel really gross, Daddy," he admitted softly.

"I know," Ellison murmured sympathetically. "But it's alright. We'll clean ya up, change the bedclothes, an' then we'll put ya back t' bed after givin' ya some medicine. I'm sure we've got somethin' t' help with the nausea."

"Sometimes that makes it worse."

"But most of the time, it helps."

"Reckon ya got a point." A beat of silence. "'M so embarrassed, Daddy."

"I know, baby. I know you are."

"I'm real sorry."

"I know. But ya don't have t' be. It happens t' the best of us, Ty. Ya can't really control what happens when yer sick, honey. Here, lift your head up for me."

Bud lifted his head, shivering when Ellison started to scrub his chest with a washcloth.

"Tha's real cold, Daddy," he muttered.

"It's just where you're feverish."

"Y' sure?"

"Is it ever cold when you take a shower?"

"No."

"Then I'm sure. You're just feverish and chilling. We'll find somethin' t' help break your fever too... maybe we got somethin', I don't know. Worries me when ya get this way."

"Why?" Bud inquired, his eyes meeting his father's.

"I watched one of my sons die from an illness, Tyler. Before he died, he'd caught pneumonia or somethin' like it, an' he developed a really bad fever. We'd made another trip to the hospital the week we had him. They told us there was nothing they could do for him because he was so weak, nothin' woulda helped. So when we brought him back home... I tried my best t' show him just how much I loved him. I've seen what a fever can do to ya. I don't want that for you."

Bud turned his head and coughed, Ellison gently patting his back as the cough seemed to rattle his lungs. He drew in a shallow breath and looked at his father.

"I think I'll be okay, Daddy," he rasped.

"I know you will be. If I think that somethin' ain't right, we'll be makin' a trip to the doctor t' get you some medicine that will actually help. I'm gonna let ya get dressed now. If ya get dizzy again, just yell at me, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby."

—

"Hey, Cap," Ellison greeted his nephew as he walked into the living room. "What're you doin' here?"

"Lookin' for Tyler. He ain't answered me at all t'day an' I'm a little worried."

"He's upstairs. He was sleepin' last time I checked on him. Gotta warn ya if ya plan on goin' up — he's sick. Like, really sick. I won't let him out of bed."

"Geez," Cap murmured. "He alright though?"

"Yeah, he's okay. Feverish and hateful and clingy, but he's a'ight. He's a little emotional too."

Cap hummed and sat down beside Ellison, bending down and tying the laces on his sneaker.

"Daddy was lookin' forward t' seein' him t'day. So I texted him t' ask him why y'all didn't come, and he never answered, so I did get worried. Ty always answers me. The only time he don't is when he's sleepin'. Or when he's in the shower."

"Nothin' wrong with worryin'. You two are close. I worry about him a lot, Cap. He's acted diff'rent ever since he found out he's adopted. And you know that he was diagnosed with depression when he was twelve... Reckon it's just takin' a toll on his mental health."

"Don't help that he's an over-thinker. He's told me a lot of stuff he's thought of while layin' in bed and... I don't know how, but I talk him out of most of it. The last time I didn't talk him out of it, he got drunk. I tried, though. Tried my hardest t' talk him outta that one. I didn't know he was gonna go get drunk, Ellison, or I never woulda let him leave."

"That was more on me than anyone else. He did it outta spite."

"Yeah... Daddy told me 'bout that."

Ellison hummed, scratching the side of his face before he glanced at Cap.

"Sometimes your Daddy tells ya too much."

Cap chuckled.

"I think I'll go up n see if he's awake."

"Okay. Don't let him outta bed unless he has t' go to the bathroom. I love him an' all, but I can't let him roam too much. He's been lightheaded an' he nearly collapsed on me earlier."

"Yeah, I'll make sure he don't leave."

"Thank ya, Cap."

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't won the battle," Cap quipped, earning a snort of laughter from Ellison.

"Good luck."

"I'll need it."

—

Bud whined as he shifted, blinking slowly as the door opened.

"Ty? Hey," Cap smiled softly, stepping inside and closing the door.

"'Ey," he mumbled as Cap crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "How're you?"

"Fine. How're you?"

"Been better. But not as bad as it could be, I reckon. William upset that we didn't go?"

"He didn't let it show. But sometimes, Daddy's eyes give him away. After ev'ryone left, he said that he missed ya an' that he's gonna find a way t' see ya. He was lookin' forward to ya comin' over."

"I feel so bad," Bud sniffled. "I wanted t' go, I really did. But I woke up n felt absolutely horr'ble n Daddy said we wasn't goin' anywhere. Or that's basically what he said, I can't remember it word for word."

"Don't feel bad. Daddy'll understand when he finds out why ya didn't come. Ya can't help that yer sick, Ty."

"M-move, I gotta — gotta get up. Oh God, I forgot all 'bout William's gift. I gotta—"

"You gotta stay in bed," Cap insisted, grasping his biceps. "Daddy'll come get it, it's okay. You can't get up as sick as you are."

"I've gotta, Cap! I jus' gotta get William his gift."

"I'll call him n have him come over, Tyler. Stay in bed."

Bud huffed and laid down again, shifting onto his side. He didn't necessarily want to, but he knew that his parents would side with Cap this time and he really didn't want to fight. So he would stay where he was and he would wait for William to show up.

—

Bud clutched the binder to his chest, his eyes flicking toward the door as it opened.

"William!"

"Hey, Ty," Anse beamed at him. "What'd ya want?"

Bud sat up, handing Anse the binder.

"What's this, kiddo?"

"'S the story y' wanted. Took me two years, but I got it done. Edited it n everythin', William. An' unless y' let someone else read it, yer the only one that'll read it."

"You wrote a novel?" William blinked, sitting down beside Bud and leaning against the headboard.

"Mhm," he nodded. "It's the one ya wanted."

"Well, I thank ya. But ya didn't have t' spend all that time writin' a novel for me, Tyler," William chuckled. "Why don't ya come back here, hm? We'll read it."

"I ain't a baby, William," Bud rolled his eyes playfully.

"What I meant was I'll read it an' you'll get some rest. Ya look tired, honey."

"I am," he mumbled.

"Then c'mere. You get some sleep an' I'll start readin' this, a'ight?"

"A'ight. I love y', William."

"Love ya too, Tyler."

—

Bud was allowed to leave his room three days later. He wasn't as bad as he had been, had even asked Sarah if they had anything he could eat that wouldn't make his stomach upset, and had been directed to the couch before she left to fix him something to eat.

He shivered under his blanket, flipping through the channels and frowning. There was never anything good on TV. He ended up watching The Lion King, which happened to be one of his favorite Disney movies.

"Lion King again?" Sarah quirked a brow as she handed him a bowl of tomato soup.

"It's the only thing on," he grumbled. "Thank ya, Mama."

"You're welcome, baby," she smiled softly. She sat down beside him, Bud's eyes scanning her as the corner of his lip turned upward. "I hope ya get better soon. I kinda miss all the craziness. I like it better when yer healthy."

"Ya ain't the only one."

"I know. Why don't ya eat 'fore it gets cold, hm? Won't be no good if it's cold."

"Mkay. Don't — don't go anywhere, please. I don't wanna be 'lone, Mama."

"A'ight, baby. I'll stay here wit'cha."

"Thank ya."

"Don't mention it, baby. Now, will ya please eat?"

"Yeah, Mama."

—

After eating, Bud had curled up against Sarah and fell asleep, using her shoulder as a pillow. Sarah didn't mind it; she played with his unruly curls while he slept, gazing down at him lovingly. She'd missed him curling up against her and sleeping soundly, a silent way of showing his love for her, in her eyes.

Bud was one who often professed his love for his parents and his family; one who didn't care to show affection for his family members. But there was something about him curling up against Sarah the way he used to when he was a small child that made her feel like it was one way of him showing her how much he loved her.

It was something that he'd used to do quite often, and he'd stopped doing it when he was around seven. She never missed how he could curl up against Ellison when he thought they were alone, or when he thought no one was looking at them. Bud tried to fit in; he tried everything he could think of to fit in with the other boys in the valley, but Bud wasn't like them. He was different and it was a good different.

"Sarah! Sarah, where's my son?" Ellison asked as he entered the room, looking flustered as his eyes landing on Bud. He huffed a sigh of relief, pulling his fingers through his hair.

"He's sleepin'," Sarah answered, gazing down at the sleeping boy. "I miss my baby bein' little."

"Me too. I miss him bein' real little."

"One thing that's never changed, though, is the way he looks at you, Ellison. He looks at you like you're the best man on earth. And in his eyes, you are. He looks up t' ya an' he loves ya more than anythin'. He couldn't hide that if he tried."

"An' how 'bout how he looks at you?" Ellison countered, sitting down beside her. "Tyler's eyes give him away. And Cap might tell me a few things he says when they're over there. Like he thinks yer the most wonderful woman on earth. He thinks highly of you. You'll prob'ly be the one answerin' all his questions about girls once he finds a pretty girl he likes."

Sarah laughed and placed her head on Ellison's shoulder.

"I wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. But I would trade everything I have and I've ever had for him. He's made my life so much better. It's kinda funny t' think that he don't know how much he's helped us; how many times he's kept us from doin' somethin' we'd probably regret the instant we did it. He saved you. I know he saved you. You're only alive because you got him."

"It was just a really rough time for me, Sarah. I wasn't gonna—"

"Yes, you were. I know you were. Tyler Jackson was your savin' grace, Ellison."

"Yeah... yeah, he was," Ellison nodded in agreement. "My baby boy... God, it don't seem like he should be as old as he is. Seems like it was yesterday I was chasin' him 'round the house."

Sarah giggled at that. She looked down at the sleeping boy, whose face was flushed with his lips slightly parted, his honey-brown hair splayed across his forehead as he snored lightly. She played with his unruly curls, which only seemed to appear every so often.

She remembered thinking that Bud would have extremely curly hair because of the way it had been when he was little. It had straightened out a bit, though, and often laid like it was straight once he combed it. The only times it didn't, it was either raining or it was a humid day, and then there were days that his hair just seemed to do whatever it wanted to for no good reason.

Bud stirred, pulling her from her thoughts. He nuzzled against her and exhaled deeply, never waking as he shifted ever so slightly. He made a noise in the back of his throat that caused Ellison to giggle.

"Think we'll be here a while?" Ellison drawled, his eyes alight with mirth.

"Probably. He seems pretty tired," Sarah pointed out with a slight laugh.

"True. How's he been t'day?"

"He ate. He wanted to eat. After he ate, he fell asleep, so he really ain't done much."

Ellison hummed and nodded. Maybe that meant Bud was getting better.

—

November 2015

Bud glanced up at his uncle, his brows furrowing as he bit down on his lip. It was unusual for Anse to show up alone.

"I finished your novel. It was amazing, kiddo."

"Glad ya liked it," Bud beamed at him.

"Course I did. You wrote it for me. And it was a darn good one, too. One of the best I've read."

"Now yer gettin' ridiculous."

"I am not! I'm bein' honest with ya. And I do thank ya for takin' the time t' write that for me. One heck of a good book, Ty."

"Can I ask you somethin'?" Bud asked swiftly, the smile dropping as he lowered his head and picked at his nails.

"Sure."

"Is it... is it weird t' miss someone ya never knew?"

Anse paused for a moment, hesitant to answer the question.

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Like... is it weird t' sit around and miss someone that you didn't even know? Someone ya don't remember," he elaborated, his eyes flicking up and meeting Anse's.

"Well, I reckon it all depends on who it is," Anse answered after a few seconds. "Who ya missin', kiddo?"

"My birth family. My parents and Jim and Tolbert. I've been thinkin' 'bout Tolbert a lot lately, William. I don't know, it's just really weird. I started t' go through ev'rythin' again last month and just... started t' miss them. And—and grieve them, I guess is the word for it. I don't even know what it is I'm doin', but it's just like an overwhelmin' sadness settled in and it ain't left. I can't get it t' go away."

"It's hard for you. I think if you could remember them, it wouldn't be nearly as bad on ya. Ya never really knew 'em and that takes its toll on ya once ya find out about your birth family. And sometimes it takes it a while t' really hit ya, an' when it does, it hits ya all at once. Like the way yours did. But that's okay. Ya've got me, an' Cap, an' yer Mama n Daddy. We're all here for ya. Every single one of us, includin' Uncle Jim."

"I'm kinda scared t' tell Mama n Daddy. They're gettin' bad again," he confessed quietly, knowing that Anse would know what he was talking about.

Anse exhaled deeply through his nostrils, pulling Bud to his feet and into a tight embrace.

"Talk t' one of us. Talk t' yer Daddy. He'd know how t' help ya with those better than anyone else. Or if ya want, I'll tell him it's gettin' bad again and he can talk to ya."

"Would you please? Every time I try t' do it, somethin' goes wrong and he gets real mad at me."

"Yeah, Tyler. I'll do it for ya. Don't be so jumpy. It's just yer Daddy yer gonna be talkin' to."

"Scares me, though. I don't want him gettin' mad at me 'gain," he sniffled.

"He ain't gonna get mad atcha. I think he'll understand. Ya sure ya want me t' tell him?"

"Yeah," he nodded slightly. "'M sorry t' get ya involved, but — but 'm jus' real scared, William."

"Hey, I don't mind tellin' him for ya. You two can talk it out once he finds out about it. Alright?"

"A'ight. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

—

"Hey, baby," Ellison greeted as he stepped inside Bud's room, startling him. Bud yelped and jumped, letting out a breath once he realized it was Ellison. "Sorry. Didn't mean t' scare ya."

"That's okay," Bud waved it off. "William tell ya?"

"Yeah, Anse told me. Ya know, all ya had t' do was say it's gettin' bad again and I would've understood what ya meant."

"It always comes out wrong when I try t' tell ya. Y' always end up gettin' real mad an' I don't want ya gettin' mad at me 'gain, Daddy."

"Didn't I promise you I'd try my best not t' get mad at ya anymore? Not until I had a very good reason for it?"

"Y-yeah, but... it still comes out wrong, Daddy."

"That's okay. We'll find a way for ya t' tell me when ya start feelin' this way," he assured him, crouching down and carding his fingers through Bud's hair. "We'll figure somethin' out. Even if it's just you textin' me n sayin' it's bad again. Wanna do it that way?"

"Guess so," Bud whispered.

"Alright. Now that we've got that settled, what's botherin' ya, baby?"

"I miss them," Bud admitted softly, hanging his head low.

"Miss who?" Ellison queried, brows furrowing.

"M-my birth parents and Tolbert and Jim. I don't know, it's just... it's weird, Daddy. I'm grieving people I don't even know, an' I miss 'em so bad. I don't know why."

"That's okay. You don't have t' know why. Tell ya what... First thing t'morrow, we're gonna go t' Kentucky. We'll go t' the McCoy Cemetery and you can talk to 'em if ya want. I talk t' Elli all the time when I visit his grave, so there ain't a thing wrong with it. Sometimes... sometimes that's the only way ya can make it any better. By talking to them."

"Really?"

"Mhm. I think it'd do ya good t' go out there n get whatever it is off your chest. It'll make ya feel better. And even if it don't make ya feel much better, ya've at least found a way t' talk t' the people ya miss. Any time ya wanna go out there, all ya gotta do is say so."

"Thank ya, Daddy," Bud smiled lightly, the corners of his lips turned upward as his hazel eyes met Ellison's brown ones.

"Yer welcome, Bud."

—

Bud had never been to the cemetery. He'd been shown photos of the graves and had found its location online, but he'd never actually been to it.

So he walked through it, his eyes scanning the name written on each stone. He stopped when he got to the one with Ran'l and Sally's names written on it, bending down.

"Hey... I-I know ya don't know me n I don't know you, but you've both been a huge part of my life the past year. I'm still learnin' 'bout y'all. Tryin' t' learn all I can t' see if I'm anythin' like either of ya. I... I know that most things are learned, but it'd be nice t' be a little like both of ya. Yer my real parents, after all, an' I wouldn't mind bein' like ya.

"M-maybe I should tell ya who I am. My name's Randolph McCoy, Junior. 'Parently y'all called me Bud. I was adopted right after y'all died. I got placed in a good home with two wonderful people — Ellison and Sarah Ann Hatfield. Daddy says he knew y'all an' that ya were good people. He says he can see you n Jim n Tolbert in me sometimes, but I dunno how true it is.

"He also said that this might help me; me comin' out here an' talkin' t' you. I've been missin' ya a lot lately n I don't even really know ya. I mean, I know that I did at one point in time, but I can't remember it. It just feels really weird t' grieve someone I can't even remember. But the more I find out 'bout y'all, the more I fall in love with ya an' wish that ya woulda lived. Ya seem like you were great people. I don't fully understand how I can feel this way about people I've never met, but I don't mind it. You're my birth parents and I love you. Even if I never did really get the chance to meet you."

His hand glided along the stone before he got up, moving to the next one. Tolbert.

"H-hey. Uhm... God, this is so hard. Reckon it's good t' start with an introduction? I'm Bud... your baby brother. I don't, um, know what t' say to ya, Tolbert. I really miss you. I don't remember you, but I miss you. I miss you so much.

"You're in my dreams a lot, but—but you're older than ten. It's like you're the age ya would be now if you were still alive. That's what, twenty-four? Yeah. I wish you were still alive. If you were alive, I wouldn't have t' rely on my dreams t' see you an' actually hold a conversation with ya. And I know it's weird! I know it's weird that some awkward teenager is havin' dreams about talkin' t' you when you're older than what ya were when ya died, but... I can't control it and I really don't want it to stop.

"I'm sorry I'm so weird. Daddy swears that I ain't weird, that I'm just unique, but... I don't think that's the case. I really am sorry. I'm just tryin' t' get all this off my chest and—and I really wish you were alive so you could respond."

Bud burst into tears, his chin touching his chest as he hung his head.

"I don't know how t' say all this n I feel like I'm crazy talkin' t' ya this way. An' I don't really know how t' say what I want t' say, so I just... I keep talkin' 'til I feel like I've said what I wanted to." He paused and swallowed thickly. "I love you. I love you so much. I — I didn't even know you existed until last year, but I love you a lot, Tolbert. You're the one I've found out about the most and... you seem amazing.

"There's been nights I can't sleep at all n I find myself wishin' you were there so I could talk to ya. I don't know how t' describe how I feel. Like... like there's some kind of bond or somethin' that used t' be between us. From what I've heard from Daddy n ev'ryone else, we were close when you were alive. But I was only three months old when ya died, so I don't really think we can count it as close, ya know?

"But... but anyways, I love you. I love you a lot, Tolbert. And I really wish I coulda met you."

And with that, Bud stood and walked out of the cemetery.