WARNING: This story contains depictions of child abuse, as well as a slight reference to suicide. If you feel you may be triggered, this chapter is definitely not one to read.

Author's Note: Since we don't actually know much about Lucas' family, and what we do know is actually sort of depressing once you remove the laugh track, this story is to explore what could be. If I continue it, in all likelihood it will be gen; I'm not overly loyal to any one ship. Anyways, reviews and critiques are always appreciated!

Texas had been one hell of a trip.

It was only when he finally shut the door behind him, finally shut the door on that state and all the memories that it brought, that Lucas felt he could finally take a breath. After the chaos and confusion the journey to Austin had wrought, that smoggy New York air felt fresh. He was home, he could finally sort out his emotions. For a moment, he just breathed in-

And then promptly had the air stolen from his lungs as a voice rang down the hall.

"Didn't stop to visit your old man, boy?"

Well, so much for relaxing. Lucas couldn't move. He couldn't breathe, he could hardly contort his facial expression from anything other than pure shock. Footsteps echoed closer, finally stopping just two feet away. Had he breathed yet? He didn't think so.

"I asked you a question, boy. Did you or did you not stop to visit your father?"

"No, sir."

Pure reflex was all that allowed anything to escape his paralyzed throat. He should be used to this, he reminded himself. This was nothing new. Time apart had just made him soft, made him weaker.

"Well color me surprised. After your little journey to un-tarnish the family name from your little failure, would've thought you'd've had the courtesy to at least say hello in person. Thought I taught you some damn manners."

"Sorry sir."

"Sorry's right, you little bastard. All that, just to hear good ol' Pappy Joe say you weren't a disgrace? To hear him say 'I love you'? Well, I got news for you, boy. He ain't ever said that to me, he ain't ever gonna say that to you. You hear that?"

"Yes sir."

He wasn't sure how any oxygen was reaching his racing heart. His lungs felt like they were filled with smoke, but if he coughed he knew it'd be a sob he ended up choking out.

"You fucked up so bad we had to move. And even then, when you'd think you would've learned, you still managed to fuck up worse. I had to send you across the country to escape the dirt you left behind. And you couldn't even pop in for a visit?"

"No, sir. Sorry sir."

"Always sorry, you are. Always makin mistakes and then apologizing as if it fixes things. All you've ever done is broke shit, son."

"S-sorry sir."

There was that cough: a cry breaking his words into a stutter.

"Look at that, already crying. Thought you were tough shit cause you could ride a bull for a few seconds? You can't do anything. Look at me."

He was, in fact, looking at the floor. He hadn't realized he had somehow managed to move to avert his gaze, and he wasn't sure he could do it again.

"I gave you an order, son."

As he struggled to raise his head, a sudden shock to his stomach forced him to bend over, an arm reflexively clutching his ribs.

"Guess you need some persuasion, boy. Look at me."

Straightening up took even more effort, but the casual reminder from the ache in his abdomen called to mind more distant pains, ones easily repeated. Lucas managed to get in one inhale, standing as tall as he could, eye to eye with his father. All he could see was his own eyes reflected back in the face of a man he hadn't seen since he was sent to an entirely different state.

He was all too aware of the solitary tear making its way down his cheek, and would've wiped it away if he wasn't sure any move would be a wrong one.

"I ain't going to be around long. I don't want to be reminded of you any more than I have to. Even when you came back to visit those so-called 'friends' of yours I pawned you off on whoever was willing to put up with your shit. However, it would appear that you need a little retraining when it comes to being polite. While I'm here you're going to do everything I tell you, when I tell you. I tell you to fuckin jump, you ask 'off what cliff?'. You think you can manage something that simple, boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well would you look at that. We're already making progress. Now get your ass upstairs, clean up, and get down here for your re-introductory lesson."

"Yes, sir."

The fear and surprise finally made their way into useful energy, propelling him all the way up the stairs, only giving out as he collapsed against the bathroom door. That solitary tear wasn't so alone anymore, and his breathing was clouded with the sobs he was desperately trying to choke down. The Texas he thought he had left behind was back, and he didn't know what to do.