Author's Notes: Alrighty, this one's one heck of a long chapter. Jordyn, for you I was extra careful to get my facts straight on both dress and ceremony, though the ceremony's about 90 percent right - having never been to a funeral, particularly not an Arlington funeral, it's hard to get it perfect, despite all my research. But, close enough. Also, I included the lyrics to Montgomery Gentry's "Didn't I" at the very end of this chapter, since they just wouldn't go away until I did, and it seemed fitting anyhow. Oh, yes, and no offense meant to any self-proclaimed hippies out there - the context is a little edgy, and frankly I think I qualify as a hippy myself, or so my brother says. Nor do I intend any commentary at any point on present war circumstances, so don't bloody well take it that way, unless you take from it the lesson to treat the soldiers well even if you protest the war. Anyhow, until next time, Enjoy!

Chapter 8: Saying Goodbye

Luke opened his eyes to the soft morning light filling the hotel room. He lay still for a moment, cobwebs of sleep clearing out of his mind. He still lay in Bo's arms, though his younger cousin was now sound asleep. Luke didn't know how long he'd cried before fading into an exhausted sleep, but the rest of the night had passed without dream or nightmare. Carefully, he picked himself up and eased away from Bo, who slept sitting up against the headboard, undisturbed. Luke might have been embarrassed, or ashamed, but for remembering Pauline's words the day before, and instead he looked on his slumbering cousin with fond appreciation for his care.

It was just after nine, so Luke cancelled the wake-up call and ordered room service for breakfast. He might as well have something in his stomach for the service. The smell of hot coffee, fresh toast and eggs was enough to stir Bo, and he stretched and stood as Luke set the delivered platter down on the small table in the corner.

"Morning," Luke greeted him, sitting in one of the two chairs.

"Morning," Bo returned, yawning and pouring himself some coffee.

"Look, ah…thank you, Bo," Luke said earnestly.

Bo wasn't sure what reaction he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. He smiled and pulled up the other chair. "Any time, cuz." And that was the end of it.

When Bo had finished breakfast, he stood and gestured towards the bathroom. "You want first shower?" he asked.

Luke was still working on his, and he shook his head, swallowing. "Nah, go ahead."

Bo had the hot shower running, bathroom door closed, by the time Luke finished eating. He was sitting there, sipping coffee and thinking, when a knock came at the door. Luke answered it, gratefully accepting the delivery, and closed the door behind him, setting the items down on the floor next to his suitcase. Bo emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, one towel wrapped around his waist and another in his hand, drying his hair and his stitches carefully. The swollen lump was nearly gone, and he wondered how long it would be before he could convince Luke to let him drive again.

"Did I hear a knock at the door?"

"Yeah, just Pauline dropping off some things for me." Luke gathered his things and headed into the bathroom while Bo started pulling clothes out of his suitcase.

A half-hour later, Bo was slumped in a chair, hair neatly combed and dressed in his best blue suit and tie, wondering just what on earth was taking Luke so long. It was 10:23, by the clock on the wall, and Luke had said he wanted to leave by 10:30.

"You okay in there, buddy?" Bo called.

"Be out in just a minute," Luke answered through the bathroom door.

"You take any longer, we'll have to change your name to Daisy!" Bo teased.

Luke opened the door and stepped out, just then, brushing himself off in a nervous gesture. Bo was wide-eyed with surprise at the sight. His older cousin was dressed to the letter in a blue Marine dress uniform – a crisp dark blue jacket with a high starched collar, red trimmings, and brass buttons, a pair of blue trousers with a bright red bloodstripe on each leg, polished black dress boots, white gloves. A white belt with a gleaming buckle wrapped around the jacket just below his ribs, and his hair was neatly combed and slicked back under his white cap. A rank insignia patch graced each shoulder, and two ribboned medals hung on his chest.

Bo whistled and grinned. "Look at you! You'd have half the girls in Hazzard and Chickasaw chasin' after you in that thing!" He stood to take a closer look while Luke smiled at his comment. Yes, the ladies sure did love a man in uniform, he remembered.

"Pauline…cleaned it up for me," he explained. In fact he'd wanted to chuck the whole thing a long time ago, when he took his belongings out of storage at the base to pack for the final journey home, but Rob had taken it instead, along with a crate of other items. "You'll want them some day," Rob had told him, not knowing that 'some day' would be his own funeral.

Bo picked up the ribboned medals one at a time. One, he recognized – it was a sharpshooter's medal, which Luke had sent home to Bo from the base before shipping out. He frowned when he looked at the other – he recognized it too, but not because Luke had ever shown one to him. The ribbon was purple with white stripes at each edge, and the golden metal was shaped into a heart, with a polished purple interior and the unmistakable profile of George Washington at the center. Bo looked up in confusion.

"A Purple Heart? Is it yours?"

Luke nodded. He had expected this, when he pulled it out of the black velvet case and pinned it on. "I told you, Rob saved my life more than once."

"You were shot?.!" Now Bo was wide-eyed with another kind of shock. Luke might have done some dangerous things, and the whole family had worried about him when he was overseas, but Bo never knew how close he'd been to never coming home.

Luke nodded again, and placed a hand on his lower right ribs, just above the white belt. "We were…" he cleared his throat, nervous to finally tell his younger cousin. He owed Bo an explanation, though. "We were ambushed, in the jungle at the edge of a field. There was a sniper, got three of us before Rob spotted him and took him out. He'd been hit in the leg by shrapnel in the fighting, but he carried me the whole way back in the retreat, said he couldn't live with himself if he left me behind. When I survived the night at the field hospital, they sent me to a hospital in the city, and I spent four months there recovering. By the time I was healed, they were pulling troops out all over the place, and they sent me and Rob and the rest of the platoon home. They gave me this in the hospital, in honor of my sacrifice, they said. I figure I owe it to Rob to wear it this once."

This time the tears were in Bo's eyes as he hugged his cousin. Luke hugged him back, and patted his back. "Come on, we'd better get going."

If Luke was nervous about showing his uniform to his cousin, he was outright anxious about walking around in public in it. He wasn't ashamed of his service with the Marines by any means, but he remembered too well the reception he got when he last wore his uniform stateside, and he didn't look forward to a repeat. With every person they passed, Luke would look down or away, brushing at a wrinkle or a bit of lint self-consciously.

It was one of these moments, as they walked through the lobby, that Bo spotted a slim figure in a shapely royal blue dress suit, with a large-brimmed blue hat to match. A black ribbon was tied around the hat, matching the black leather belt at her rather shapely waist. He looked on appreciatively, smiling, when she turned around, apparently looking for someone. She had a petite nose and fine features, but he was taken aback when her ice blue eyes darkened at the sight of him and Luke, and her lip curled a bit with disgust. Throwing her nose in the air with a sniff, she turned and headed out the front doors. Bo shrugged – it didn't look like Luke had even noticed – and they continued outside to the hotel parking for the General.

For all that they were headed for a funeral, Bo thought Luke seemed much better this morning – more his calm, collected old self. He was still quiet, but the creases of worry had vanished from his brow, and the distracted brooding look was gone. He caught Bo looking over at him once on the drive, and gave his younger cousin a small but reassuring smile.

They pulled into the parking lot at the cemetery administrative building at exactly 11am. The General drew a few curious looks, as usual. Bo was surprised to see the blue-garbed woman from the hotel standing among the handful of people gathering on the grass, and further surprised to see her eyes narrow coldly again as she scrutinized the orange car and its occupants. As they climbed out and walked towards the gathering – Pauline among them – Bo overheard the strange woman comment to the man standing beside her, "Figures. A redneck leatherneck."

Pretty lady or not, Bo wasn't going to take such comments about his kin lying down. He strode up to her angrily, Luke close behind. "Listen lady, I don't know who you are or what your problem is, but if you've got something to say you'd better say it now!" Bo challenged hotly. Luke put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back.

"Bo, drop it," he warned.

"No, Luke! That's the second time I've seen this woman, and the second time she's looked at us like we're something she wiped off her shoe! You got a problem with country boys, lady?.!"

This time Luke grabbed Bo's arm and physically dragged him backwards, before the woman answered. Once they were out of range of the others, Luke stopped and looked Bo in the eye.

"She wasn't looking at you, she was looking at me. That's Jillian Summer, Rob's niece on his wife's side. The Summers disowned him, and his wife and son, when he went to war, remember? They were as anti-war as anyone could get," he explained.

"That don't give her the right to treat us, or you, like that!" Bo glared in the woman's direction.

Luke sighed. Bo didn't understand, and now wasn't the time to tell him. Fortunately, Pauline rescued him.

"Luke, Bo!" she called as she walked over. She'd seen the whole exchange, and guessed the reason. "Oh, you look so sharp!" she complimented Luke as he turned. "Now, there's some friends of yours over there, who'd like to say hello, Luke."

He took a closer look in that direction, saw a couple of men in dress uniforms similar to Luke's, talking together, and he smiled to recognize them. These were older versions of two of the fellows in the pictures he'd shown Bo, and he was glad they'd come – Rob had little enough family to pray for him as it was.

"Go on!" Pauline shooed, and as Luke set in that direction, she turned to Bo. "Bo, honey, would you be a dear and walk an old lady up to the visitor's center?"

Anger momentarily forgotten, he smiled and offered his arm. "Yes ma'am!" They set off towards the buildings up the path, and Bo glanced back to see Luke shaking hands with his fellow Marines. Though he wanted to get back quickly, Pauline set a slow pace, and he forced himself to match.

"Now, how have you been, dear?" she asked, holding his arm.

"Me?" Bo was bewildered at the question. "I'm fine! I've just been worried about Luke. He's had a pretty hard time with all this," he explained.

"This brings up a lot of hard memories for him," Pauline agreed.

Bo didn't ask how she knew. It was strange to think that a complete stranger knew more about his cousin than he did. "He's had nightmares somethin' fierce."

She stopped and looked up at him. "Yes, he told me what happened Thursday night."

"Yeah, he said I can't wake him up like that again." They continued walking.

"No, certainly not. That was actually quite common for a lot of veterans coming back – and no wonder! Robert shared some of his experiences with me, in the last few months. But he told me, the trick is, if he ever had a nightmare like that, to knock on the bed, or even shake his foot if I needed to, to wake him. Oh! Here we are, dear. Now, just wait right here, if you will, I'll be right out."

Bo waited, cooling his impatience, as Pauline went into the ladies' room in the visitor's center. He had a feeling he'd be doing a lot of waiting today. When she came back out, though, he had a question for her. He asked as they strolled back towards the gathering.

"Miss Pauline, what's the deal with that Summer woman?" He explained the earlier incidents, and Luke's reaction. "I don't get it. He'd never put up with that back home!"

The kindly nurse patted his arm sympathetically. "Bo, tell me, back in Hazzard, how did people react when Luke came home?"

Bo thought back. "Well, everyone was real glad, happy he'd survived and was back home again. Me an' Daisy an' Uncle Jesse were real proud, too."

"That's wonderful, dear. But, not everyone in the country thought that way, when men like Luke came home…"

"What, you mean like those hippies and protestors on TV? So what?"

"Well, them, but other folks too. Some people blamed the soldiers for the war, and when those soldiers returned, not everyone was lucky enough to have as supportive a family and town as yours. Men were spit on, cursed, called horrible names in bus stations and as they stepped off the airplanes, and worse."

"Even Luke?" Bo looked in his cousin's direction as they approached. Luke was speaking with a man in a chaplain's vestments. He couldn't imagine anyone in Hazzard treating Luke like that.

"Yes, I imagine so. And, to answer your question, Miss Summer also has a particular reason for hating Luke, because of his close friendship with Robert. I imagine she doesn't even want to be here, but for the reading of the will. Oh! It looks like they're ready to get started."

The information sheet Pauline had given Luke explained that the visitors were to meet the hearse in the parking lot, and then the funeral procession would gather and drive to the burial site from there. The black vehicle was now waiting, and the gathering of friends and colleagues to Staff Sergeant Robert T. Fulton were dispersing towards their own cars. Pauline took her leave, and Bo joined up with Luke, heading back to the General. They drove along in somber silence, Bo thinking on what Pauline had told him.

The hearse stopped at the curb below a rolling hill of green, with neat rows of white stone markers stretching as far as the eye could see. An escort of eight waited there, pallbearers in full Marine dress uniform, and another rank of uniformed Marines waited with rifles at their shoulders, one with a brass bugle in his hand. While the dozen-odd observers exited their cars, the pallbearers opened the hearse and removed the polished silver casket. The chaplain led the way along the paths between the stone markers, followed by a Marine officer, the uniformed escort and their sad burden, the armed Marines, then Luke, Bo with Pauline on his arm, and the rest. It was unsettlingly quiet, an otherwise bright and sunny day with a fair breeze sweeping off the river.

At the gravesite, the pallbearers carefully set the casket in place, and the group of observers took solemn positions at the lower end, while the chaplain moved to the upper end. The escort brought forth a broad American flag and the eight pallbearers held it stretched over the casket. As the chaplain began to speak, Bo looked up at Luke, who was listening and watching with a faraway look in his eyes. Bo looked back at the flag, red and white stripes with the blue star field, thinking about this new meaning to add to all the symbolism he'd known as a child. Honor, freedom, pride, home, family, it sang, but now also pain, and fear. He snapped his attention back to the chaplain.

"…And so as we commend unto the earth the body of our dear friend and brother, Robert Thomas Fulton, we commend his soul unto God and heaven, that he may know peace in the arms of our Lord, amen," the chaplain finished, the observers echoing quiet 'amen's. He looked at the solemn gathering. "I understand there is a friend of Robert here who would like to say a few words."

Bo looked up with surprise as Luke stepped forward, walking around the pallbearers to the chaplain's side, with a quiet thank you. He cleared his throat and looked over the faces waiting expectantly – the two Marines of his platoon, who'd shown up so unexpectedly, Ted Hopkins, who'd worked with Rob at the hardware store back home, Jillian Summer and her fiancé, with bored dispassionate expressions, Pauline, sad tenderness in her eyes as she gazed at the coffin, and Bo, with a hint of a proud smile. Then Luke spoke.

"As many of you know, I served with Rob for two years overseas. He was a great man, a great Marine, and a great friend to every man in the company." The two retired Marines nodded agreement. "But more than that, Rob was a loving father, and a devoted husband, who loved his family and his country with all his heart." Only Bo's ears caught the derisive sniff over his shoulder. "I asked him once, why he joined the Marines, why he returned to fight for two more years after serving his first term. He said to me, 'Luke, what kind of husband, or father, or man would I be, if I stayed home and let some other boy take my place? How could I stand with God in Heaven if I didn't stand tall on earth?' Rob, I hope you stand with God now…" Luke's voice broke, "Because if you don't, He's got some explaining to do. I'm…" he paused again, tears trickling down his face, and down the faces of all but two of the gathered friends, "I'm proud to have called you my friend, and I know I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for you. Goodbye, Rob." Luke stepped back, and the chaplain touched his shoulder briefly before he slipped back to join Bo again. He didn't try to wipe away the tears.

The chaplain moved to stand next to the Marine officer, who signaled the riflemen. The seven riflemen presented arms and fired three short blasts. Salute complete, the bugler raised his instrument and played a solemn 'taps'. With every inch of honor and decorum, the pallbearers folded the flag lengthwise in quarters, then folded down one corner and wrapped the remaining length in a crisp triangle. The flag bearer turned and presented the flag to the chaplain, who saluted in turn. Then the chaplain stepped out to the gathered mourners, and presented the flag not to Jillian Summer, the technical next of kin, but to Lucas K. Duke, whose shock was evident as he accepted it and saluted.

"On behalf of the President of the United States, a grateful nation, and a proud Marine Corps, this flag is presented as a token of our appreciation for the honorable and faithful service rendered by Robert Thomas Fulton to his country and Corps," the chaplain intoned.

Then the Marine officer stepped forward and saluted Luke, offering his condolences. Then, stepping back, he called an order, and the pallbearer escort filed out, followed by the riflemen and the bugler. The services ended, and the mourners turned to head towards their cars. Bo put an arm around Luke, who was staring down at the flag in his hands.

"Come on, cuz. Time to go."

The Duke cousins trailed the rear of the exiting mourners. When they reached the cars waiting at the curb, there was a stranger speaking with the chaplain, who pointed in their direction. Briefcase in hand, the stranger walked up, a neat brown moustache below glasses and thinning hair.

"Mr. Duke?" he asked. Bo correctly assumed he meant Luke.

"Yes sir?" Luke asked, still a bit shell-shocked.

"My name is Hank Rainey, I'm Mr. Fulton's lawyer…I'm sorry to have to come find you at a time like this."

Luke shook his head. "It's alright, Mr. Rainey. What can I do for you?"

"Well, Mr. Duke, Robert requested that you be present at the reading of his will. Ms. Summer has been rather…uncooperative in my attempts to contact you, and I wanted to personally make sure you were notified."

"If Rob asked for me to be there, I will. Where and when is the reading?"

"Actually, it's, ah, tomorrow afternoon."

"On a Sunday?" Bo interrupted.

"Ah, yes, I believe Ms. Summer personally arranged for a judge to be available, as she, ah, leaves for California Monday morning. We'll meet Judge Chambers at the district courthouse, at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon."

"Is it a problem if Bo comes too?" Luke indicated his cousin.

"Oh, no, not at all. You'll come, then?" Luke nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Duke!" The lawyer shook his hand, and they parted ways.

Two more figures waited for Bo and Luke near the General. It was the two Marines, who both greeted Luke with handshakes that turned into hugs and complimented him in gravelly voices on his eulogy, before they noticed Bo standing there. Luke stepped back and introduced him. The tall, bear-like man with short red hair and a red moustache was Brock, and the shorter, leaner fellow with scruffy black hair was Eric. They had been the only men Pauline had been able to find addresses for, and though they hadn't been as close to Rob as Luke had been, they had made the trip from their home states just as the Dukes had.

"Luke," Brock said after introductions had been made all around, "Me an' Eric were gonna go have a few beers and catch up, y'know, for old time's sake. You an' your cousin want to come?"

Luke turned to Bo, who shrugged noncommittally. Bo hoped he'd say yes, to give Luke something more positive to do than brood all afternoon, but Bo wouldn't push him either way. Then Luke turned back to Brock. "Sure, sounds good. Just let us run back to the hotel, so we can change."

The men both smiled - their starched collars chafed as well. "Where are you staying? We'll just meet you there."

Luke gave them directions to the West Hotel, and they parted ways.

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Bo was surprised to find it was hardly 1pm when they left Arlington National Cemetery behind. It didn't take long to reach the hotel, and he decided to give Uncle Jesse and Daisy a call to update them on things.

"You go on up, I'll be there in a few," he told Luke in the lobby, heading for the payphones.

The phone call was longer than he expected. Jesse told Bo all about the charges against him and the amount of the back taxes owed. So far he, Daisy, and Cooter had called in every favor and debt owed to them, scraped together every dime, but it didn't amount to more than a few hundred dollars.

"What are we gonna do, Uncle Jesse?" Bo asked plaintively, "We can't let Boss put you in jail!"

"I don't know, Bo. Me and Daisy are gonna ask around tomorrow after church, see if there isn't something we can come up with, but I just don't think anyone around here has that kind of money to lend. When are you boys gonna be home?"

"Well, I'm not sure, exactly. We've got something here tomorrow at three, an' I'll bet Luke will want to leave right after that, once he hears about this."

"Alright, keep me updated. Take care, Bo."

"You too, Uncle Jesse. 'Bye."

Bo hung up and made his way to the stairs, frowning in thought. By the time he reached the door to the room, he decided Luke wasn't going to hear about this - at least, not until he'd had some time to relax a little. No sense worrying him all over again.

In the room, Luke was already changed into his more comfortable jeans and blue plaid shirt, the dress uniform neatly folded and placed carefully with the folded flag on the breakfast table. Bo hurried to change, while Luke idly watched something on ESPN about the next day's NASCAR race. Bo was just pulling his boots on when there was a knock at the door - it was Eric and Brock.

Taking the General Lee and Brock's truck, the boys made their way to a bar on the outskirts of the city recommended by Brock - a popular hangout for off-duty military personnel from the nearby bases. Bo found himself in the company of giants as they found a table in a corner and ordered up a round, surrounded by fierce, tattooed and muscular Marine Corps and Naval noncoms. He didn't relish getting into a bar fight in this place. The waitress smiled sweetly, though, and soon he was lost in the three Marines' conversation.

They recounted old tales and traded new ones, laughing uproariously or falling quiet when Rob's name came up. Luke told a few stories of him and Bo's adventures in Hazzard, and Brock immediately launched into a series of stories from the old days. Bo choked on his beer, once or twice, at the pranks Luke had pulled around both barracks and base camp, and the ways Rob Fulton had managed to get him out of trouble when he was caught. It never occurred to Bo that Luke was one of the youngest in his company when he first joined, or that Luke's rebellious sense of adventure might come out in the form of snakes placed in the CO's bunk. Bo heard the tale, again, of the day Luke's parachute didn't open on a HALO jump, and how another Marine saved him from certain death. Luke stopped Brock just short, however, of describing his more amorous adventures overseas in rather personal detail. Bo grinned - apparently Dukes left behind a trail of broken hearts no matter what country they were in.

Thus the afternoon passed quickly, and the early summer sun was setting when Luke wrapped things up, declining the bar food for dinner and hoping for something a little more filling. He traded addresses with the good-natured Marines, promising to write, and left in search of a new restaurant for dinner.

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When they finally returned to the hotel, Luke decided to make an early night of it. He had enough thoughts running through his mind to write a book, and he just wanted a little peace and quiet. Bo, on the other hand, was intent on staying up for a while, so he pulled out the now much beat-up car magazine and read back through a couple of the articles again by lamplight while Luke settled into bed. Bo wasn't sure what he was waiting for to happen tonight, but he'd be danged if he was gonna sleep through it. After a few minutes, he could hear Luke's breathing settle out into the regular rhythm of sleep, and Bo went right on reading, glancing over at him every few paragraphs.

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Luke was driving in the General Lee down a long dirt road, lined by broad fields and the occasional patch of trees or grazing cows. It might have been Hazzard, for all that he was dressed in his regular clothes and driving the General, but he knew that it wasn't. In fact, he'd never been here before, he was sure.

Up ahead on the right, a house came into view. It was a large, two-story ranch, painted a creamy tan with a broad front porch. Something made Luke stop as he came along in front of it. He cut the engine and half-climbed out, sitting on the window frame and watching the scene before him. Up on the porch, a teenage boy with freckles and a shock of unruly sandy brown hair sat strumming on an acoustic guitar in a white wicker chair. Beside him in a long porch swing sat a pretty middle-aged woman with the same sandy brown hair, in the arms of a smiling dark-haired man. Luke smiled at the sight. It was Rob, the Rob of the family portrait taken before he joined the Marines, with his wife and son, all happily together again. They didn't see Luke, and Luke didn't call their attention. Let them enjoy their time together again. He climbed back into the General and drove on his way.

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Bo was starting to get tired, the words on the page becoming harder to read, when he looked over at Luke and saw that content smile on his sleeping features. Bo smiled himself, set the magazine down, and switched off the lamp, no longer worried.

Montgomery Gentry - "Didn't I"

Didn't I make you proud
Go and lay my life down
When you called my name?
I thought I stood for something
Was doing the right thing when I went away.
Now being back should be so simple,
But I keep getting mixed signals from everyone.
Why do people sit and judge me
Who I ain't seen what I seen or did what I've done?

Didn't I burn, didn't I bleed enough for you?
I faced your fears,
Felt pain so you won't have to.
Yeah, didn't I do my best?
And wasn't home here when I left?

I've seen boys fall to pieces,
Grown men cry out for Jesus
Til they're black and blue.
I thought God was on our side.
Weren't we suppose to be the good guys
That would never lose?
Cause I don't see no ticker tape or five mile parades
Sayin "Thank you, son."
Just folks that sit and judge me
Who ain't seen or did what I've done.

Didn't I burn, didn't I bleed enough for you?
I faced your fears
Felt pain so you won't have to.
Yeah, didn't I do my best?
And wasn't home here when I left?