Author's Notes: Whew! Talk about tough! Alright, a couple disclaimers for this chapter - my military and historical knowledge is limited (have you ever tried learning anything useful from the Marine Corps website?), and mucking about with the dates and years in this show is rough, since the actors seemed older than the characters but the show went on for seven years and then tie that in with the timelines in fanfic-land and I have no bloody clue what year this is supposed to be. So, I made my best approximation, and if anyone has better info, let me know. Oh, yes, and some song notes - once again, country music has a lot of ties to this story, and I was astounded to listen to Montgomery Gentry's "Didn't I" for the first time while writing this chapter last night, which exactly perfectly ties in. Also, pretty much all of Charlie Daniels' "A Decade of Hits" CD just keeps me thinkin' of Hazzard County. Anyhow, enjoy!

Chapter 3: Road Trip

It had just been after nine when Luke first got up, so it wasn't yet eleven a.m. when he and Bo were climbing into the General Lee. His suitcase was in the trunk with Bo's, and they'd already said their goodbyes to Uncle Jesse, each promising again to be careful and safe and to call and check in. Bo was at the driver's seat, and while he buckled his seatbelt, he gestured to his cousin.

"Hey, ah, if you want, Luke, you can lay up in the back seat and get some sleep," Bo suggested. His older cousin still looked terrible. Luke shook his head in refusal, though, and with a shrug, Bo started the car and set off down the drive. He glanced down at the seat between them, where the permits and money were tucked in the pages of a road atlas - they'd have problems if they left either on the kitchen table.

The drive was uncomfortably quiet. Bo tried to make conversation, asking Luke's opinion of his latest work on the General, but Luke's replies were short and he obviously didn't want to talk. Bo let it go and drove on, mentally waving goodbye as they crossed the county line. It would be a good ten hour drive to Virginia, not counting stops for gas and food. Plus, Uncle Jesse had cautioned him to keep closer to the speed limit, to avoid tangling with the law, so it would be quite late before they reached their destination.

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Back at the Hazzard County Sheriff's Department, J.D. Hogg was sitting at his desk with his feet propped up, delightedly counting out the bills Jesse Duke had paid him for those travel permits. No one was more surprised than J.D. when Jesse Duke, ordinarily a shrewd bargainer, had walked into his office first thing this morning and asked outright what it would take to get travel permits for his nephews. J.D. had named a price, and Jesse had paid it without hesitation, though not until Boss produced the signed and fully legal permits.

"240…260…280…three hundred dollars!" Boss laughed, placing the bills in a metal cashbox. Rosco walked in just then, and Boss jumped, snapping the metal lid closed on his hand. "Owww-wow-wow! Rosco, you peabrain! How many times have I told you not to come in without knocking?.!"

"Oh! Sorry there, little fat buddy! Khew khew! Looks like you hurt your pudgy little fingers…"

"Nevermind my fingers!" Boss cried as Rosco leaned over him to look, "What do you want?.!"

Rosco took a step back from his fickle employer, toying with his hat between his hands. "Ah, well Boss, I was wondering, just why did you give Jesse Duke permits to let the Duke boys go out of town? I mean, he didn't pay you that much, I just don't understand."

"That's because you wouldn't know an apple from an orange, and you certainly wouldn't understand a bargain when you see one, numbskull! Now tell me, what have I been trying to get from them Dukes all these years?"

"Ah, the Duke farm."

"And who always manages to interfere with my plans?"

"Ah, that would be the Duke boys! Ohhh, that's clever, that's clever! You gave them travel permits to get them out of here while…"

"While I steal the farm out from under Jesse's nose!" Boss laughed, "And he paid me three hundred dollars to do it! Whoo-hee-hee-hee! Now, don't you breathe a word of this to that dipstick deputy of yours!"

"Breathe a word to me about what, Boss?" Enos came in from the outer office, overhearing the reference to him.

Both Boss and Rosco were caught flabbergasted, but Rosco recovered quickly. "It's a surprise, Enos, that's why we can't tell you! Now, get on out of here, go on patrol or something!"

Enos smiled brightly. He loved surprises. "Yes sir, Sheriff!" He turned and headed out the door to his patrol car, figuring to stop by the Boar's Nest. Maybe Daisy would have an idea of what it might be.

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It was midafternoon when Bo pulled off the highway and found a roadside diner. His stomach was snarling for something to eat, and his legs were getting stiff and cramped after more than four straight hours of driving - excepting one stop for gas, of course. Bo reached over and shook Luke, who'd fallen asleep shortly after crossing the Georgia state line.

"Lunchtime, cuz," Bo told him when he looked up sleepily. Then Bo took a few bills from the envelope and hid the rest under the front seat, and climbed out of the car, taking the keys with him - no sense taking chances. He was stretching his long limbs when Luke joined him, looking around and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"North Carolina, not even halfway there. You up for somethin' to eat?"

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea," Luke agreed, and they headed inside. His stomach had settled and his headache was a far sight better than this morning, though it still wasn't gone entirely. He hardly noticed the pretty little waitress who showed them to a table, as she traded smiles with Bo, and after ordering coffee Luke excused himself to go wash up.

In the men's room, Luke splashed cold water on his face and ran a hand through his hair, staring at his reflection in the mirror. It wasn't the reflection of the happy good ol' boy from Hazzard, Georgia who raced the General Lee, fought the system and the corrupt local law. It was the reflection that had looked back at him eight years ago at a bus station in Virginia, a hardened Marine with haunted eyes on his way home after twenty-two months in Vietnam - the last four in a hospital in Saigon - scarred in more ways than one. Then he heard Bo's laughter outside as he flirted with the waitress, and the sound made Luke smile. It was just like his younger cousin – lighthearted and smiling, making friends wherever he went, and keeping Luke from taking things too seriously. Maybe he should take a page from Bo's book and relax for a bit. Neatening his tousled hair, he dried his face and hands and headed out to rejoin Bo.

"This boy ain't botherin' you, is he ma'am?" he asked the waitress with a smile as he walked up. Bo looked up him with grin and a hint of surprise, and the waitress smiled up at Luke.

"Why no! He was just telling me some awful fibs about how last week he escaped from some silly sheriff in that orange car out front, jumping it over a creek and I don't know what all else!"

Luke turned a mock stern look on Bo. "Now Bo, you know better than to fib to this pretty little lady!" He turned back to the waitress. "That was me that jumped the creek last week. He was the one who tricked Rosco into crashing into the billboard."

For the rest of the meal, Bo was surprised by Luke's sudden change in attitude. Her shift soon over, the waitress joined them at their table, and the boys competed to tell her wilder and wilder stories of their escapades, most of them true, while she laughed and gasped in turns. It was too soon when Bo glanced at the clock above the counter and saw they'd been there for more than an hour. He got Luke's attention and nodded towards the clock.

"Luke, we've got to get going."

Luke was laughing with the waitress over some comment, but his laughter faded as he looked at the clock and was recalled to reality.

"So, where you boys headed, anyhow?" the waitress asked.

Luke looked down, while Bo pulled the money out of his pocket to pay the bill. "We're driving to Virginia, to a funeral for an old friend," Bo answered when Luke didn't.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the young woman said, appalled.

"It's alright," Luke assured her. The good mood was ruined, though. She took the check and money as they both stood, thanking them for the tip and wishing them luck and a safe trip as they made for the door.

Outside, Bo stopped and fished his pockets for quarters. "Hey Luke, I'm gonna call Uncle Jesse and let him know where we are," he called to his cousin, who was already at the car.

"Alright. I'll wait here."

Bo ended up going back inside for change, then came back out to the payphone outside. Luke leaned against the General's hood while Bo called Jesse, overhearing snatches of the conversation.

"Hey Uncle Jesse…yeah, we're fine, we're in North Carolina. We stopped for lunch and I thought I'd call…yes sir…yes sir…yeah, much better…" Bo's voice turned quiet after that, and he soon hung up the phone and joined Luke. "Alright! Ready to go?" he asked his cousin.

"Yep. Hey, do you want me to drive for a while?"

"Sure, if you want to." Bo handed him the keys and climbed across the hood to the passenger side. The engine roared to life, and Bo directed them back onto the highway, and off they went.

They'd been driving for some miles, this time in a more comfortable silence, when Luke spoke up. "I'm sorry about last night, Bo."

Bo smiled lightheartedly. "Aww, it's alright, Luke! You've carried me home more than once, I was just returning the favor."

Luke shook his head. "No, it's not alright. I'm older than you, I'm supposed to take care of you, not the other way around. Besides, that's…that's not how Uncle Jesse taught us to handle our problems."

Serious, Bo turned to his cousin. "Luke, we're not little kids any more. I'm here for you just as much as you are for me, and don't you forget that. Now, I'll admit, you scared me, and I wish you hadn't been drinkin' like that, but you're human just the same as me, and you're allowed to make mistakes. I'm just glad you weren't hurt."

Luke was silent, eyes searching the road ahead, before he smiled a little. "You been takin' lessons from Uncle Jesse?"

Bo grinned. "Him and my older cousin."

After that, the conversation turned lighter, and they talked and laughed on and off, listening to the radio. Two hundred or so miles and a gas stop later, they weren't too far from the Virginia state line when Bo turned from looking out the window and finally asked:

"Luke, who was he?"

For several long minutes, Luke was silent, and Bo didn't think he'd answer. Luke, though, was just trying to sort his thoughts, and decide where to start.

"His name…was Staff-Sergeant Robert Thomas Fulton," he began hesitantly. It was easier, driving, with his hands comfortable on the wheel and eyes on the road. He swallowed and went on. "He was the right-hand man to the lieutenant of my platoon in…over there…and he could have been a company commander, if he'd wanted to."

Bo listened quietly, and made no interruptions, though he was starting to understand Luke's reluctance to say anything. His older cousin rarely talked of his time in the Marines, and never spoke of the war at all. Bo had been in high school when he left and just graduated when he came back, still just a kid to his older cousin. Once, three years ago, Luke had talked with him a bit about the nightmares he'd had after coming home, when Bo himself was having a hard time after that mine collapse, but nothing since.

"He was serving his second tour of duty in the war, voluntarily, which was rare. He was in his forties, but after my first few days, we were fast friends. He…he got me through a lot of hard days, and saved my life more than once. He was an amazing man, an expert at everything out there, from…from demining to tunnel ratting, and he refused every promotion he was offered - he just wanted to fight with the platoon, nothing more, he said. I was sure glad to have him there when the lieutenant was killed and the whole platoon looked to me for orders.

"We…we were both discharged at the same time, and it wasn't until we was back stateside that he found out his wife and son had been killed in a drunk driving accident. His son was just a few years younger than me, and Rob prayed every day that he wouldn't be picked for the draft - but he never made it to his eighteenth birthday. He didn't have any other family - his in-laws were war protestors, and wanted nothing to do with him - so he moved back to the town where he grew up, got a job at the local hardware store. He asked, at the bus station, if he could write to me – said I was the closest thing to family he had anymore. I got a letter every week, that first year, and less after that, but we kept in touch.

"About…about two years ago, he started getting sick, was in and out of the hospital with pneumonia or bronchitis every couple of months. It wasn't until a letter in March that he told me, it was cancer, from working with Agent Orange out there in his first tour of duty, they thought. He'd been moved to a hospice, didn't have very long to live. Rob loved to hear about life in Hazzard, so I wrote as often as I could. It was…it was all I could do. And then…yesterday…"

Luke didn't have to explain the rest - Bo understood. He looked across at his older cousin. Though Luke's voice had been level and even throughout, tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn't notice Bo looking, but he sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"Sometimes, out there, he was like a father, and sometimes, he was like the older brother I never had. I can't believe he's gone," Luke's voice finally broke.

Noting that the gas tank was near empty again, he changed lanes and got off at the next exit, pulling into the first gas station he saw. Bo was quiet the whole way, thinking, but when Luke stopped the car, he turned to his cousin.

"I'm sorry, Luke. I wish I'd known him. I don't want to even imagine what it would be like to lose my big brother," Bo said softly.

Luke gave him a small smile, sniffing again. "Thanks, Bo."

Then they both climbed out, stretching stiff limbs as they refueled and cleaned off the windows. Before long, they were on the road again. Bo took the keys back and drove for the last leg of the trip, all the way to a little motel just off the highway between Washington D.C. and Arlington, Virginia. It was half past midnight on Friday morning when they woke the sleepy motel attendant and asked for a room.Bo called in to Uncle Jesse while Luke paid and signed for the room. It was cheap, and not much to look at, but the beds were clean and soft, and both Duke boys were glad of them.

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Bo hadn't been asleep long when an odd sound woke him. A streetlight outside lent a gray light to the little room, and Bo sat up and looked around. Then he heard it again. It was Luke, talking in his sleep and moving restlessly.

"Hey Luke," Bo whispered softly. No response. Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he leaned across the small space to his cousin's bed and touched his shoulder. "It's alright, buddy," he started to say, but out of nowhere Bo found himself flying through the air. He landed with a crash against the far wall, and everything went black.

Oh boy. Somethin' tells me ol' Bo and Luke are both up for a hard awakening. Y'all come back, now.