Author's Notes: I borrowed just a tad from my favorite Dukes scene for this one, but I hope I did it justice - it just worked out so well! Let's see - there's also some new notes in my profile, for anyone who's interested. I have yet to add favorite lines from reviews, though. Enjoy - and let me know if you did enjoy it:)

Chapter 10: Cornered

Luke opened his eyes and shut them again tightly, warding off the sunlight that burned its way into his vision. Then a shadow fell across him, blocking the sunlight, and he opened his eyes again – this time, to the sight of Uncle Jesse sitting on a hay bale in front of him. Luke groaned, holding a hand to his pounding head and wondering just how he'd gotten that drunk on just a couple of beers.

He found himself handed a mason jar of clear liquid by Jesse, smelling faintly of moonshine – hair of the dog, and well watered-down. Luke sat up enough to drink it all down, then lay back again until a dizzy spell passed and the nip of 'shine started to take effect. When he opened his eyes a third time, Uncle Jesse was still there, watching him quietly.

Luke pushed himself up from his tangled bed of horse blankets and hay, and leaned back to sit against another bale of hay, looking up at his uncle. Jesse handed him another mason jar – pure water, this time – and this one Luke sipped at slowly.

"Want to tell me what this is all about?" Jesse asked in a tone of barely restrained anger. When Luke said nothing, he elaborated. "You've got me an' Daisy worried near to death, Bo is walking around like a kicked pup an' lookin' like he just lost his best friend, an' I come home from a 'shine run to find you're passed out drunker 'n a skunk in the hayloft! Now, what in tarnation is going on?.!"

At Luke's continued stoic silence, Jesse realized anger might not be the best tactic. He tried something else.

"Luke, you an' me, an' Bo an' Daisy, we're all Dukes, and bein' a Duke – that means something. We don't abandon each other when trouble comes along, and we work together through thick and thin. I know every one of you kids is there for me when I need help with the farm, and you've always been there for each other, too. But you've been shuttin' us out, and there's nothing we want more than to help. Now, if there's something wrong, I want you to tell me about it, so I can help make it right, Luke. Let me help, son."

His expression was pleading again, and Luke just couldn't stand that, but his uncle was blocking the only exit from the hayloft, and he had nowhere to run. He looked away, and Jesse could see the glimmer of tears in his eyes.

"I told you I don't belong here anymore, Uncle Jesse," Luke finally answered, fighting to keep his voice from quivering.

"What do you mean, Luke?" Jesse pressed gently.

"I mean I don't belong here, on this farm, in this family! I'll just end up getting someone hurt," his voice rose in anger and fell, trailing off into a mutter.

Jesse waited for him to go on, and he did, staring off at anything but his uncle.

"Last night at the bar, I was so mad… Lyle was just messing around with Cindy…and I was ready to kill him. I mean really kill him, Uncle Jesse…" Luke shook his head, hearing the excuses his uncle didn't say out loud – 'But you were drunk, Luke, and you were upset…'

Jesse still waited, knowing there was more.

"And Sunday…Sunday…" The tears spilled over. "Bo followed me into the woods. I didn't realize it was him - I thought it was…someone trying to sneak up on me…" He looked up at his uncle, eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I had my knife…I almost killed him, Uncle Jesse," he whispered hoarsely. Luke shook all over now, tears streaming down his face.

In an instant, Jesse thought back to Monday morning – Bo's 'shaving cut', the way Luke turned pale and practically ran out of the kitchen, Luke crying as he packed his things to leave – and it all made sense. Now Jesse knelt down beside his eldest boy, gathering the veteran Marine into his arms.

"Shh…it'll be alright, Luke. It'll be alright…"

Luke just cried harder, breaking down every wall he'd tried to build around his volatile emotions in the last week. There wasn't anything he wanted more in the world than to go back to being a lost child comforted by loving, paternal arms. But sadly, the comfort was not to last for very long.

"Shh…shhh…" Jesse whispered soothingly. "Oh, my poor boy…my dear, sweet, gentle boy…" He didn't seem to realize he was thinking out loud.

And just like that, every muscle in Luke's body stiffened, and he pulled back from his uncle's embrace with angry, tear-reddened eyes.

"I ain't one of those things, Uncle Jesse. Not anymore."

Then he was gone, down the ladder and off into the woods, running as fast and hard and his legs would carry him.

Luke's wild run barely took him into the trees before he was forced to stop, coughing and gasping for breath as he held his cramped and knotted ribs. Mentally he cursed the sniper who'd shot him, cursed Rob for dragging him out, cursed the doctor who'd removed the bullet and saved his life, and almost got as far as cursing the woman who'd brought him into this world, before he stopped himself in shame. He didn't turn back, though. Aching and sore, head pounding again, lungs strongly protesting, his feet carried him forward, and forward into the woods he went.

'Dear, sweet, gentle boy,' Luke thought bitterly as he tramped along, hands balled into fists at his sides. He hardly even looked at the direction he was going – he just crossed, avoided, or skirted the roads and farmhouses as he came to them. 'How can he still think that?.! How can he say it's gonna be alright?.! It's not! He's wrong!'

Luke wiped at tears born as much from despair as from anger. 'Bo hates me, Daisy's probably ashamed to call me her cousin, and Uncle Jesse…he just doesn't understand.'

But the longer Luke walked, the more his temper cooled, and the more he began to look around at where he was. The woods were a lot different by day, he noticed – now it seemed there were very few similarities between the sweet Georgia forest and the humid Vietnam jungles, rubber plantations, and rice paddies. It was nice, he thought, to just be out walking, not patrolling, not training, not anything but enjoying the day. His hurried, angry stomping eased into a more casual stroll, and he even smiled in a bittersweet kind of way, seeing the land where he'd spent so much time as a child.

He was far from the Duke farm, by several miles in fact, but here in the hills he'd learned to hunt and trap by rifle and bow under Uncle Jesse's firm guidance. The Duke moonshine stills were hidden out here, scattered about and well concealed to all but those who knew where to look. Here Luke would lead his younger cousins on hikes and fishing expeditions, guarding and protecting their every step like a faithful sheepdog, even though he was still a boy himself. More than a few times, he'd carried Bo home on his back, when the little adventurer burned all his energy on the trip out and was too tired to walk back. There were frogs and lightning bugs to be caught by the dozens, injured baby rabbits to be carried home and cared for, hawks and mice and squirrels to watch, songs to sing, games to play – there were a lot of good times out here.

A crack of sound in the air drew Luke's attention, but it wasn't the alarming crack of gunfire – it was the sound of a beloved Louisville Slugger hitting a baseball square-on, earning the batter's team an early home-run by the sound of it. The whoops and shouts from the nearby ball field carried into the trees, and Luke smiled. That was the kind of thing he'd joined the Marines for – kids playing baseball after school on a sunny afternoon, peach cobbler cooling on the windowsill, the flag that flew out in front of the high school that the principal would run out in the pouring rain in his suit and tie to bring inside – for everything he'd been taught growing up about the strong protecting the weak and good triumphing over evil, everything he loved about this country, his home.

Then, as he skirted the baseball field and avoided the boys playing there, Luke was recalled to another memory from his childhood, one that didn't happen here in the hills and trees, but back home on the farm.

The two boys and Jesse were out by the swing-set, the old wooden one Jesse had built when Luke was six, on a bright summer afternoon. Daisy was inside somewhere helping Aunt Martha with dinner, and Jesse was trying to console the boys.

Still in his Little League uniform, Luke, age ten, kicked angrily at an innocent dirt clod lying there among the grass. Bo, age seven, sat in Uncle Jesse's lap on the swing, frowning unhappily with his lower lip stuck out.

"It's only a game, Luke," Jesse said gently.

"We lost!" Luke answered angrily, kicking at the dirt again. "And it's my fault! If I just hadn't dropped the ball…"

Jesse looked down at the little blond boy on his knee, who was watching his older cousin's every move with big, round eyes. He knew if Luke wasn't upset, Bo would probably happily be playing in the yard, untroubled by a single losing baseball game. Jesse sighed.

"Luke, come here," he said firmly, holding out one arm. Still scowling, Luke came, and Jesse pulled him onto his other knee, one arm around each nephew. "Luke, it don't matter one bit if you won or lost, or whose fault it is."

Jesse could see the stubborn set to his jaw and the fire in his eyes, and he had to keep from smiling. That look came purely from his father, and it meant he was ready to argue the point to the ends of the Earth.

"Do you know why it don't matter?"

Bo looked up at him uncle with the same big eyes. "Why, Uncl' Jesse?"

Jesse looked down at them both seriously. "Because you're my boys, and I love you, no matter what."

After a moment, Bo smiled that smile that earned him free candy from the lady at the general store in town, and he wiggled up to put his little arms around Jesse's neck, snuggling in close while Jesse hugged him back. Luke was still frowning, and he looked doubtful, until Jesse pulled him close for a hug too. Then Luke's arms replaced Bo's, and Jesse kissed the top of his head while the dark-haired boy murmured, "Love you too, Uncle Jesse."

Luke grew thoughtful as he walked along. He could hear his uncle's words as clearly as if it were yesterday. 'You're my boys, and I love you, no matter what.' No matter what – my dear, sweet, gentle boy. No matter if he'd been to war, killed men, and been good at it? No matter if he'd been half an inch away from killing Bo too? No matter if he'd shunned his family, broken promises, gotten drunk…no matter? No matter what.

And Luke began to see things a little more clearly than he had in days.

Bo wasn't hurt. He'd stopped himself in time. It damned sure wouldn't happen a second time. And he doubted his little cousin really hated him – it had always been Bo's way, to boil over in blind anger at the first provocation, then come back for forgiveness later. Luke had always been the more level-headed one – usually. Bo would cool off, just like Uncle Jesse said, and Luke could apologize then.

And Daisy? Daisy wasn't ashamed of him. Truth be told, she was worried about him, Luke knew. He saw the look in her eyes when she thought he didn't notice. In fact, she was probably worried about him right now – Uncle Jesse too. How long had he been gone?

Luke checked himself over and realized he still hadn't put on a watch, but looking at the sky, it must have been hours. It was mid-morning when he bolted from the barn, and it was late afternoon now, by Luke's reckoning. He frowned. It wasn't right to make them worry, and they were probably worried sick.

Luke also realized, as he took another step, that his feet were absolutely killing him, and he'd done himself no favors walking all this distance on them. He sighed and looked around to get his bearings. Best go find a pay phone and call Uncle Jesse for a ride. He was ready to go home.

By mid-afternoon, Daisy and Jesse had seen no sign of Luke for hours, and they were worried. Jesse had even taken the truck out to look for him, but he had no idea where to look. Now it was pushing three-thirty, and they had to get going, to pick Bo up from practice and then go help Miss Lulu set up at the Boar's Nest like Daisy had promised.

"Come on, Daisy," Jesse called. "Luke's a grown man, he can take care of himself. I'm sure he'll be here when we get back," he reassured her, despite his own reservations. He wasn't so sure Luke wasn't gone for good this time, and it was all his fault.

Reluctantly, Daisy joined him at the pickup truck, and soon they headed out.

An hour and a half later, the Dukes (minus one) were busy as bees at the empty Boar's Nest, redecorating and reorganizing for the auction and Halloween dance.

"Oh, thank you all so much for your help!" Lulu gushed. Jesse was hanging black and orange crepe decorations while Bo moved tables and chairs and Daisy wrote out numbered and labeled cards for each auction item on the long table by the bar. They were very nearly done, thanks to their combined efforts. "I just don't know what I'd do without you!"

"Oh, we're happy to help, Lulu," Jesse said from the ladder, tacking a grinning pumpkin cut-out in place.

Lulu smiled brightly, but looking at Daisy and Bo, she didn't think they looked very happy. She trundled over to where Daisy sat, frowning a little. As she settled her considerable girth into a chair, Daisy sighed and tossed aside yet another item card that she'd messed up. Lulu looked at her with concern.

"Oh, what ever is the matter, dear?" she asked kindly. "I'm sorry to say it, but all three of you look as down as I've ever seen you! And where's Luke – didn't he come home last week?"

All three Dukes paused in their work, looking to one another for the right words. It was Bo who spoke first.

"Yeah, Luke's home, Miss Lulu – we're just worried about him, that's all. He ain't been himself lately," he explained with a sigh. Lulu looked to Daisy and Jesse, who both nodded agreement. She opened her mouth to speak, but anything she might have said was forgotten moments later.

"Aww, ain't that sad!" came a gruff, unfamiliar voice from the doorway. Daisy looked up and gasped to see three men in black ski masks standing there, the leader holding a gun. "You hear that, boys? Ol' Lukie ain't been himself lately! Well, why don't we relieve these good folk of their work, so they can run home and take care of him?" The leader gave the group a menacing sneer. "Now, put 'em up!" he ordered, and motioned with his gun for them all to move back against the wall.

Lulu and the Dukes did as they were told, eyeing the leader and the gun fearfully. The man nodded to his associates, and they began gathering the more valuable auction items from the table.

"Oh, no!" Lulu moaned, crying over each item in turn. "Not my mink coat! Not the pearl necklace!"

Bo stepped forward angrily. "Hey, come on, mister! This stuff's all been donated to raise money for the orphanage!" He gulped and stepped back as the gun was aimed at him.

"Well, wouldn't you know?" the leader sneered. "I was an orphan myself! How nice of you kind folks to donate to me!" He stepped back, watching them all, as his associates made a trip outside to load up the trunk of their car.

Bo looked helplessly from Jesse to Daisy to Lulu, knowing there was nothing he could do, and they watched the robbery go on.

When the two men made their second trip to the car, though, they were overlong in coming back. The masked leader grew edgy, covering the four innocents with his gun while trying to glance over his shoulder out the door.

"Willy! Skip!" he called out. "Hurry it up!"

"They're a little tied up right now, friend."

The masked man whirled to turn his gun on Luke, who stood in the doorway, raising his hands in surrender.

"Easy, friend. Don't want nobody to get hurt," Luke said placidly, stepping inside.

"Where are they?.! What did you do with them?.! Don't come any closer!" the gunman ordered frantically. He heard Bo shift behind him, and he swung around, pointing the gun at each of them in turn. Luke took another step forward, just eight feet from the gunman now, and the man swiftly turned his attention back to the Marine.

"Easy, friend," Luke repeated, and Bo marveled at his calm. His own heart was pounding in his chest.

"I'm not your friend! I said don't come any closer!" the man practically screamed as Luke took another slow, careful step. Six feet.

The man looked around wildly, Luke blocking his only exit, and no one was close enough to grab for a hostage. While he looked, Luke started to take another step, but the movement was too much for the gunman's wired nerves. He swung his gun around with a shout and fired.

The four onlookers were still cringing from the gun blast when Luke dove forward and barreled into the man, tackling him to the ground and sending his gun flying. A smart right cross made short work of the would-be thief, and by the time Luke picked himself up off the ground, police sirens were blaring loud and close in the Boar's Nest parking lot. Rosco's response was actually quick for once, after Luke CB'd from Jesse's truck and said the Boar's Nest was being robbed.

As the sheriff handcuffed the thieves and hauled them away – Lulu hanging onto his arm and sobbing hysterically the whole way – Bo and Daisy ran up to their cousin.

"Luke! Are you okay?.!"

"Where have you been?.!"

"You're bleeding!"

"Are you hurt?.!"

"How did you get here?.!"

Their questions came one after another, and Luke had to smile as he held up his hands to quiet them.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm just glad that guy was a lousy shot," he said, fingering a hole in his blue plaid shirt where the bullet had barely missed him. A bit of red stained the cloth where a tiny bit of skin was scraped off, hardly more than a bandaid would cover. "And I walked here – I been out walking all day. I just happened this way, right on time I guess, an' I figured there was something a little off about men in masks loading up their car out of the Boar's Nest."

Bo chanced to look back at Jesse, and his next question died on his lips when he saw his uncle's expression. Daisy looked back too, and likewise fell silent. Luke looked to his uncle, wide-eyed. He didn't think he'd ever actually seen his uncle turn that particular shade of purple.

"LUKAS KRISTOPHER DUKE!" Jesse roared when he finally found the words. "WHAT IN THE GOOD LORD'S NAME DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?.!"

Luke's mouth hung open in stunned shock. "I…was…"

"YOU WERE WALKING INTO A GUN!" Jesse bellowed. "I don't care of you're a Marine, a Navy SEAL, or an astronaut, I taught you more sense than that! You could have been killed! I didn't get you back just so I could lose you again!"

Luke stared at him, completely dumbfounded. One look at Bo and Daisy told him they agreed with every word, and he had no allies there.

"You better not even think of doing something like that again, mister!" Jesse continued furiously, puffing and starting to run out of steam. He'd watched in terror as Luke stepped right into the gun, and when it fired… "I don't care how old you are, I'll turn you over my knee and tan your britches until you can't sit for a week!"

Starting to shake, Luke sat down hard in a chair by the wall, looking up again with that same bewildered expression. While he blinked, Bo and Daisy each hugged him tightly, and he had lost the power of speech entirely.

Still storming, Jesse looked out the door and saw that Lulu had left with Rosco, and there was no reason for them to stay.

"Let's go, you three," Jesse ordered gruffly. "Back to the farm. We'll finish things here later."

Arms around his waist, Bo and Daisy escorted their cousin out to the truck while Jesse locked up, and Luke was still too shocked to push them away. He didn't understand. Didn't…didn't he do good? He stopped the bad guy. So what if he got hurt – right? It was just a gun – right? Guns were normal, gunfire was normal, danger was normal – wasn't it? Wasn't it? But…if it was…why was Uncle Jesse so mad?

It wasn't until they were home, climbing out of the truck, that Luke found his voice again.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Jesse," he said, barely in a whisper. "I'm sorry."

The family all walked towards the house, but when they reached the porch, Luke could go no further. He'd thought his uncle's words over and over, trying to understand, and all of a sudden, he did. He sank down on the swing, struck hard as he realized what he hadn't truly realized all week: this was Hazzard. There was no enemy, there was no war, there was no ever-present threat of imminent death. There were no assault rifles, no tanks, no mortars, no anti-personnel mines, no base camps, no orders, no officers. There was no expectation that he function at his best when things were worst, when bullets were flying and men were dying all around him. This was Home – safe, loving, forgiving, quiet, happy, Home.

Seeing Luke's blind distress, Bo and Daisy sat down on either side of him, holding him tight between them. After a good ten minutes, Luke looked up at each of them, still wide-eyed, as though seeing them for the first time. Then Luke returned their gesture, putting an arm around each of them, and before long he was shaking with soft sobs. Daisy and Bo leaned in close and cried with him, for him, for themselves, for everything they'd all been through in the last three years. Jesse watched over them quietly from the doorway of the farmhouse, thinking that somehow, things would be just fine.

After their tears had spent themselves, the three cousins sat quietly for some time on the porch, not saying a word. Eventually, reluctantly, Daisy quietly excused herself to go start dinner, as the evening was growing late. Bo and Luke remained on the porch swing, still leaning against each other for comfort, like a pair of frightened colts during a storm. Emotionally exhausted and physically drained, Luke grew tired, and before he knew it, Bo was shaking him to wake him up.

"Come on, cuz. You look like you need some sleep."

Bo gently pulled him to his feet, and Luke looked around, realizing the sun had set while they sat there. Then Bo led him inside, and Luke numbly gave each of his cousins and his uncle a hug and a kiss goodnight before he made his way down the hall. Daisy had kept his bed made and ready for him, so all Luke had to do was pull back the covers and pull off his boots, and he was soon asleep under the blankets. After dinner, Bo wasn't long in turning in himself. Both cousins slept heavily, after a very long and difficult week.