*Author's Note*

Thank you for all the follows, favs, and reviews.

Passing On The Ring

Sully POV:

After getting a visit from Brenton late last night, I decided to ride out and have a word with my son today. It was Saturday so I knew he'd be home. He never worked on weekends. I just dreaded having to have a word with him about the bounty hunters Mr. Miller brought into Pikeville, dead and slung over their horses that were found ground tied a few miles on the outskirts of town, and the letter that was addressed to Perry and Randall. It was enough to shake up Brenton, so I knew I needed to tell my son to stop diving head first into the feud. I needed to convince him to take his family and get to safety (mainly to another time period altogether).

Whenever I rode up to my son's house, smoke was heavily billowing from both the chimney and the metal stove pipe. Since it was February, I'm not shocked that both the stove and the fireplace were roaring. I'd be shocked if they weren't, to tell the truth.

After tying my horse up to the hitch-post, I made my way up the porch and over to the front door. I knocked on the wooden and stood by, idly waiting for somebody to answer. It only took a minute or so before the door opened, revealing Jessa in the threshold. "Sully, hi, how're you?" She greeted me with a smile.

"I'm good. How're you?" I replied sincerely. Even tho she was roughly 3-months along in her new pregnancy, she was lookin' rather pale and clammy. I know that her past pregnancies were always marked with sickness and discomfort so I genuinely was worried about her. After all, she is the mother of my grandchildren.

"I'm okay, just a bit tired tho." Jessa asured me even tho the look in her indigo eyes didn't quite match the words she was saying. Stepping aside, she said, "Come in, Shaw's sitting on his chair reading the paper and drinking."

I arched a brow and tilted my head in an inquiring way. "Drinking, at 9 in the mornin'?"

"It's 5 o'clock somewhere." She shrugged as I stepped into the house.

Dear lord, my son's back to his alcoholic ways. Reckon all this bounty hunter stuff played a hand in that. I didn't say a word, just silently made my way into the main room. Taking a seat in the chair next to Shaw's, I greeted him with a simple, "Good morning, son."

"Mornin' dad." Shaw nodded from behind his open newspaper.

Jessa just gave us a weary look before returning to the kitchen to continue whatever chore she had underway. Cotton and the kids didn't seem to notice me, or maybe they did and just didn't care since they were on the floor playing various games. Todd wasn't in the room, so I reckon he's out in the barn doing chores. Anyways, the only kind greeting I got was from my daughter-in-law and that disturbed me for some reason.

"What'cha doin' visitin' me so early in the mornin' for, dad?" Shaw asked, never takin' his eyes off of his paper and he turned the page.

I decided not to beat around the bush and just told my tipsy son, "Came to see if you know anything 'bout the bounty hunters Mr. Miller found on some ground tied horses on the outskirts of Pikeville yesterday afternoon."

"Yea, I know 'bout it."

"Were you in the group that killed them?"

"Yep." Shaw popped his tongue, turnin' another page in his paper.

How could he be so calm and nonchalant about this? This is dire and he's acting like killing a group of bounty hunters is a simple game or something. Dear lord, why is my boy acting like this? "You know a letter was pinned on one of the dead men. It was addressed to Perry and Randall."

"I know, Devil Anse had Cap write it." Shaw told me while reaching over and grabbing his water glass full of shine off of his end table. Goddamnit, when Jessa said he was drinkin' she wasn't kidding.

I snatched the paper out of my son's hand and snapped, "Randall insists that Devil Anse and anyone sided with him are out to kill not just the McCoys, but all of Pikeville. He made a big stink right in the middle of town after Perry publicly read the letter with the insistence that it's as good as a written confession."

"And let me guess, Brenton told ya all of this." Shaw dryly remarked, sippin' on his shine glass.

"Yes, he did."

"Of course, he did. The snake's playing both sides." Shaw scoffed, takin' another large sip from his glass.

"Shaw, I know you don't like the man cause he sided with Tolbert over you when it came to the love triangle with Jessa, but he's my friend and he's just trying to warn me 'bout what's going on so I can help you."

"I don't need any help, Sully. I'm fine takin' care of mine all by myself." My son told me, snatchin' his paper back from my hand and flinging it open over dramatically.

Giving my son an exasperated look, I sighed, "I know that, son, but I do think that you need to step back a bit from this feud. Perhaps move your family somewhere safer that's untouched by the feud."

"I'm not gonna hurl my family thru time cause you're uneasy 'bout my ability to keep them and myself safe during this blood feud." Shaw firmly told me, turnin' the pages in his paper til he found the one he left off at.

Oh, I was afraid of that answer. Dear god, why is this boy so stubborn for? If he'd only see the danger up ahead… Shakin' my head, I let out a heavy sigh of defeat. While my son was reachin' over for his shine glass, I took off my prized time traveling ring. While Shaw was taking a large gulp from his glass, I handed him over the ring. "Take this in case you need to get yourself out of a pickle real quick."

My son set his glass down and took the ring from me. "I doubt I'll ever use it since I hate the meddlin' it represents, but thanks." He dryly deadpanned, stuffin' the ring into the small breast pocket of his shirt. Lookin' at my from over his paper, his simply said, "If that's it, ya can go now."

"Shaw, son-" I began only to get roughly cut off by my son's bellowin' sneer of, "Don't patronize me, Sully. I don't wanna hear your bullshit lectures. I'm fine without it. Always was; always will be."

Well, it seems that his resentment of how I raised him a bit late in life is now rearing its ugly head up since he's a husband and father during a deadly and rough time in Appalachian history. His dismissal of me hurt, but what gutted me was the hard and loathsome look in his honey eyes. It reminded me of the looks Peter used to flash me when I randomly came to Mate Creek to visit my family over the years before I took custody of Shaw when he was a young teen. The startling fact that Shaw had traits and characteristics of Peter, a man he hates more then anything (except for Tolbert McCoy), unsettled me. I didn't like how my son was drinkin' and acting hateful towards me.

With a sigh, I stood up and simply told my boy, "I'll go, let you get back to the articles you're reading."

Shaw didn't say a word, just nodded and turned the page in his paper.

"Jim, Shaw's drinkin' problem's hit a new low." I announced, walkin' thru the front door of the small cabin I shared with my crochety mountain man uncle.

"He's drinkin' this early in the mornin'?" Uncle Jim asked, sippin' on his large tin cup of coffee, as he sat right in front of the roarin' fireplace.

"Yes." I nodded. Makin' my way over to the fireplace and sitting down in the chair near my uncle's, I expanded on the severity of Shaw's alcoholism with the remark of, "In fact he's guzzlin' down a large water glass filled to the brim with shine."

"Hmm…" Uncle Jim hummed, settin' his coffee cup down on the side table between our chairs. "Looks like he needs locked up in my room 'gain to dry out." My uncle said matter-of-factly as he stared into the yellow-orange flames dancin' in the fireplace, lickin' at the stack of logs charred and burnin' bright red with embers.

"Yes, he does, but how do you plan on getting in in there? I doubt he'll just come on over and let you hit him over the head and drag him into the room."

"I'm takin' him, Cotton, and Cap out to the tavern t'night for Cap's birthday. Instead of bringin' him home I'll just knock him out and bring 'im here."

Nodding, I stood up and said, "Well, reckon I'll make sure the room's ready for him to dry up in."

"Just make sure there's a big jug of water an' bag of jerkey in there. Get rid of any sharp objects too." Uncle Jim told me as I walked away from the sitting chairs and over to the door that led to my uncle's bedroom. The room that seemed to be deemed a detox center for my raging alcoholic of a son. Hmm, I wonder if he'll use the ring to get out of detoxing or if he'll just grin and bear it.

Abel POV:

I spent most of my day helpin' my cousin-in-law Billy set up the framework for his cabin. He was buildin' it on the land that he got from his late brother, so at least the stone foundation was already up. The cabin was gonna be the same size as its predecessor, so it was gonna be larger than the one-room shack I made for myself and my family. Speakin' of my cabin, I should prolly start addin' onto it now that my daughter's 15-months-old. Eh…reckon I can do that after I finish helpin' Billy wit' his cabin. Hopefully he's content with just makin' a single-story cabin for now, but considerin' his strong friendship with Mary Eldrisge (that I found out about only cause the mailman delivered a letter from her) I doubt it. He seems smitten with her even tho they're only kids. I'm sure when they're adults they'll be something.

That'll make the Eldridge boys real happy…

When I set foot into my house, the mouth waterin' smell of pork 'n' beans flooded my nostrils. "Mmm-mm, dinner sure does smell good, Nance." I complimented my wife, who was sittin' at the table feedin' our daughter (who was sittin' on her lap), as I shut the door behind me 'fore takin' off my hat and jacket; hangin' them up on the hook by the door.

"When don't it smell good, Abel." My wife retorted, a tiny smile on her face, as I went over to the stove to grab a bowl of supper. "So, how was helpin' Billy wit' his cabin frame?" Nancy asked as I grabbed a bowl from the cabinet near the stove.

"Fine, but I learnt somethin' interestin' from him tho." I told my wife while scoopin' some food into my bowl and makin' my way over to the table.

"What's that, Abel?" She asked, shovin' a tiny spoonful of beans into our daughter's mouth, as I sat down at the table.

"He's got a very serious friendship goin' on with Mary Eldridge. They're exchangin' letters and he seems smitten with her." I told my wife before taking my first bite of my dinner.

"Oh hell…" Nancy sighed, shakin' her head incredulously. "Looks like he'll be snatchin' her up once the cabin's built."

"What? But he's like 14 and she's like-what-12?" I exclaimed, wide-eyed, as I scooped up some more pork 'n' beans with my spoon.

"Maybe he'll wait a year or so til they're both of age, who knows, but I'm sure he's gonna run after her."

"I was thinking a few years, not a year, Nancy. They're just kids."

"Hell, Abel, lots of folks their age get married or start takin' up wit' somebody. Just cause McCoys are typically strict don't mean other folks ain't." My wife drly told me, rollin' her eyes while passin' me over the bottle of shine that was by her. How she knew I needed a drink, I'd never know.

I took a swig from the shine bottle and asked, "Do you think they're friendship could help our family with arrestin' the Hatfields?"

"Maybe, who knows." She shrigged, causin' her black braid to slightly bounce 'gainst her shoulder." She put the spoon into the bowl she was feedin' our daughter from an' picked up a glass of milk, bringin' it to Harmony so that she could have a sip, all the while telling me, "I mean if she betrays the Hatfields and her brothers by tellin' Billy secrets then I'll gladly welcome her to the family."

"Are ya mad that I won't tell what little I know to Uncle Randall or Perry Cline?"

"No, cause I understand if ya did you'd be puttin' your sister at risk." My wife told me, settin' the milk glass back down. Pickin' up her spoon and scoopin' some food for Harmony out of the bowl with it, she sighed, "She might be married to a demon, but she's still your lil sister. You gotta protect her same as I gotta protect Jefferson."

"Yea."

"But whose gonna need the most protectin's that boy of Tolbert's. I'm sure once the Hatfields put two an' two together, he'll be a target. His bitch of a mother too."

"You still don't like Jessa, do ya?" I asked, shovelin' a spoonful of pork 'n' beans into my mouth.

"It's not that I don't like her, I just don't like how she stays wit' a man that killed my cousin. The father of her goddamned fav'rite child." Nancy spat as she fed our daughter, who eager ate the food that was on the spoon bein' held up to her tiny mouth. Before I could say a word, my wife gave me a pointed look wit' her black eyes an' waved her spoon while firmly sayin', "And don't tell me that Endor ain't her fav'rite baby cause we both saw how she doted on him last election day.

Shaw POV:

Even tho I couldn't stand Cap, I enjoyed Uncle Jim's company and I knew that Cotton liked our cousin (cause he didn't know any better since he was slow and all) so I willingly went to the Mate Creek Tavern with Jim and Cotton to celebrate Cap's 20th birthday. Damn, reckon that means come December I'm be 24, officially in my mid-20's even tho I lived the life of a fuckin' 40-year-old man wit' how hard I provide for my family.

Anyways, I was sittin' sandwiched 'tween Uncle Jim and Cotton while Cap sat across from me. He kept giving me the evil eye every damn time I poured myself a drink. Hell, I don't know why he seemed so pissy for. I mean we're at a bar so it's only fittin' that I drink the damn bottle of whiskey Uncle Jim bought for the fool's birthday.

Cotton just sipped on his glass of milk while watchin' me play chicken by holdin' my hand over the flame of a candle. I'd just reached roughly 3-minutes whenever the flame lickin' at my skin bothered me (when it was botherin' me after a few seonds, but I was tryin' to beat Uncle Jim's insane record of 5-minutes) and I pulled my hand away.

"Hmm…still ain't got the grit to beat 5-minutes." Uncle Jim chuckled as I waved my hand, tryin' to regain feelin' in it. I just shook my head and rolled my honey eyes at my crochety uncle, while smirkin' at him (of course).

Cap picked up the near empty bottle of whiskey, shook it, and then set it down with a put since it didn't have much swishin' inside. Turnin' his attention to the barkeep, he barked, "Cog, bring us another bottle!" Cog (what the fuck kinda name's that anyways?) ignored Cap and continued to clean glasses, causin' Cap to once again bark, "Cog, 'nother bottle!" And once again Cog ignored him. I don't think the barkeep likes my cousin too much, but neither do I so…

With an aggravated huff, Cap stood up and marched over to the bar. He jumped over it to grab a bottle of fine whiskey from off the shelf. Hmm, I hope either him or Jim pays for it cause I ain't.

"What's Tolbert's ex-wife got that I don't, Shaw? I could've loved ya, but instead ya done gone an' married her. Why her an' not me?" The whore that once hit on me when Jessa was pregnant with Silas years ago whined as she leaned over my table, givin' me a full view of her tight cleavage (which was a result of her corset). Dear god, if I wasn't a married man… "Why couldn't ya give me a chance; love me."

"Uh, on account that you're a whore." Cotton innocently told the whore, whose name I didn't even know or remember.

"Better then some McCoy bitch." The whore seethed 'fore stormin' off while Cap came up to our table.

I was 'bout to get up and put that whore in her place, but Uncle Jim grabbed a hold of my shoulder and made sure that I stayed in my seat. Grump jackass.

Cap opened the bottle and poured himself a shot glass while some man sitting at a table by the wall was lookin' at him and then down at a paper in his hand. I tried to see what the paper was, but I couldn't tell since Cap's stupid black hat and head was in my way. Uncle Jim noticed what the man's paper was cause he gave Cap a pointed look and told him, "Time to make like nature calls, Cap, if ya get my drift."

Ah, the paper's the bounty on Cap. Well, that poor asshole must be Mr. Miller cause I remember reading that he gets found in front of Perry Cline's office dead with a hatchet wound splittin' open the entire back of his head.

Cap just nodded 'fore loudly anouncin', "I better go find a tree to water." Cap stood up, causin' Mr. Miller's eyes to follow his movements, and exited the tavern.

I just grabbed the whiskey bottle and took a large pull from the bottle. Hey, no use in wastin' fine whiskey just cause the birthday boy's gotta act as bounty hunter bait so Uncle Jim can split that poor bastard's head open with a hatchet. A hatchet that he has in his wagon, which he drove us here in. Oh boy…

Pointin' to the flame flickerin' on the candle's wick, Uncle Jim told Cotton, "Y'know, Cotton Top, 'bout 30-years-ago there was this boy that could hold his hand ov'r the fire for 5-minutes and take the pain." Cotton looked at our uncle, intrigued, while I just took another swig from the whiskey bottle. Hmm, I wonder if Jessa'd get mad if I brought it home. I mean it's not every day I get a bottle of fine whiskey. "Y'know who that boy was?" Uncle Jim asked my cousin, causin' him shake him head. Pressin' his thumb into his chest, my uncle told Cotton, "It was your ol' Uncle Jim Vance."

"Nah." Cotton shook his head.

"Yea, it was." I nodded 'fore guzzlin' down more of the smooth tastin' whiskey while my uncle just nodded and sing-songed, "God's truth."

Cotton nodded before holdin' his hand over the flickerin' flame. Great, now he's gonna wanna play goddamn chicken all night long. Thanks Uncle Jim, thanks a lot… I just glared at my crochety uncle, causin' him to just shrug and smirk at me.

"I better go help Cap load a delivery for Lawyer Cline ov'r his horse." Uncle Jim told me, in code so that Cotton wouldn't know that he was gonna burry a hatchet into somebody's head, while standin' up. Before walkin' off, he told me, "Bring Cotton out to the wagon so we can leave in a couple of minutes."

I just nodded, lettin' him know that I'd do as he said. Without another word, Jim turned on his heel and walked over to the tavern door.

"Owe…" Cotton whined, pullin' his red hand back from over the fire.

"Don't try to hold your hand over the flame for 5-damn-minutes, it's impossible and you'll hurt yourself causin' me to get my hide tanned by Jessa." I dryly told my cousin, who had become more like my son in the time that I've taken him in, 'fore takin' a long sip from the whiskey bottle I was holdin'.

"You're 'fraid of her, ain't ya?" Cotton asked as he picked up his cold glass of milk.

"No, I ain't afraid of my wife." I denied, watchin' my cousin drink his milk.

"Daddy used t'say that Jessa had a strong hold on ya; that you're scared of doin' somethin' bad an' losin' her." Cotton told me, relayin' what he overheard Ellison tell somebody (most likely either my dad, Devil Anse, or Uncle Jim), as he set him glass down on the table.

"Don't worry 'bout it none, Cotton. It's grown up stuff, not meant for ya to rack your brain over it."

"Oh…okay…" He nodded.

"Come on, it's 'bout time we meet Uncle Jim at the wagon so we can go home." I told Cotton, standin' up with my prized bottle of whiskey in my hand. Cotton didn't say a word, just stood up and followed me over to the door.

Jim Vance POV:

Cap had just rode off wit' the dead bounty hunter slung over his horse. I told him to leave prop it up 'gainst Perry Cline's door, but to make sure the man's hat was pulled down low makin' the bounty hunter look like he was passed out drunk instead of slumped ov'r dead. Cap said he'd do it, makin' me proud. He was a good boy, was doin' good wit' this feud. No wonder he was his pappy's right-hand man.

Shaw tho, well, he was another story. His drinkin' was gettin' the best of him, which I why I was standin' by the corner of the buildin', waitin' for him to come outta the door so I could sneak up on him; knock him out. When I heard the door open, I knew it was my nephews comin' outside. Cotton was the first to walk out into the dark night. Shaw followed shortly after, causin' me to leave the corner and go up behind him. He was holdin' the bottle of whiskey that Cap got from Cog, so instead of knockin' him out by followin' him an' bashin' his head into my wagon I decided to snatch the bottle and use that to hit him over the head wit'. As soon as I snatched the bottle from him, my drunk nephew shouted, "Hey!" 'Fore he could turn 'round to see who stole his booze bottle, I hit him hard ov'r the head wit' it.

Shaw fell to the ground, knocked out cold. "Why'd ya do that for, Uncle Jim?" Cotton curiously asked as I dragged Shaw ov'r to the wagon. Boy was like dead weight, so I couldn't carry him unless I wanted to throw my back out. I might be old an' big boned, but I wasn't built like the young man I was 30-years-ago; I couldn't be haulin' no broad feller 'round.

"He needs to be locked up in my cabin to dry the likker from his veins. He won't do it unless he's knocked out cause he don't think he's gotta problem." I honestly told Cotton while shovin' Shaw into the back of my wagon.

"Oh…" Cotton trailed off in an unsure tone. As I walked up to the buckboard, he chewed on his lip and asked, "Is Jessa gonna be mad that he's not comin' home?"

"Just tell Jessa that he's dryin' out in my cabin. She'll understand since it's happened 'fore they married." I told Cotton, climbin' up onto my wagon's bench seat and grabbin' the reigns to my horses.

"Oh, okay." Cotton simply nodded as I snapped the reigns, makin' the team of horses pull the wagon 'way from the tavern and onto the road.

AN:

Boy oh boy, who saw another trip to Uncle Jim's homemade rehab for Shaw coming? Do you think that Sully giving his time traveling ring to Shaw was a smart move or a dumb one? What do you guys think about Nancy and Abel? *cough* Don't trust them *cough*