AN: What? What is this? I'm in the Miami-verse? How did this happen? What am I doing here? Well, since the series is most likely coming to an end, I thought I would post this little snippet I've been wanting to write for awhile to give everyone one last look into the life of Lucas Timothy Delko. You can find Lucas' whole story on my author page at Telling Jokes to God and The Last Five Years. This is a one-shot. There will be no others about Lucas, even though I love him dearly. So...please enjoy and let me know what you think (if I still have any fans/friends after a 3 year absence!)

Impervious

Eric made his way around the downstairs floor of his house, turning off all the lights, locking doors and windows and setting the security system. He made one final lap past the front door and stubbed his toe on one of the many plastic totes stacked there, waiting to be taken to the car tomorrow…and out of his house forever.

His heart sank as the pain in his foot subsided. Carefully, Eric bent to open the lid on the top crate, unsurprised to find the brand new towels Calleigh had just picked out, stuffed unceremoniously among family-sized bottles of shampoo, soaps, shaving cream, and several packages of razors. Under the towels were sheets and pillow cases. All things for Lucas' new home—the dorms at the University of North Carolina.

Eric's baby boy was going to college tomorrow. Lucas is going to college tomorrow. He repeated the thought in his head several times, hoping that with repetition, he would no longer feel like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs or that his chest might explode. But it was no good. Looking at the totes only urged on the tears that he had been swallowing back since graduation day two months ago. He pressed the sheets and towels back down into the tub, snapped the lid back into place, and headed upstairs where all of the bedrooms were dark except for one.

Eric leaned in the doorway of his son's room and watched, unseen, while Lucas packed his bag for the drive to Chapel Hill. With his back turned, Eric could pretend that it was some other man in his son's room; almost as tall as Eric, with thick, black curly hair and the same caramel colored skin. Sometimes it was easier to pretend than to face that this grown-up sized, tornado of a man was Lucas—his little boy who begged his mother to sing "Dream a Little Dream" every night and refused to brush his teeth without the promise of a cherry popsicle. Eric shook his head; it had only been yesterday that he'd dropped him off for his first day of at the fourth floor daycare center. How could he be leaving so soon?

Lucas turned around and jumped, surprised by his father's presence in the doorway. His face broke into a smile. "You scared me."

"Sorry," Eric mirrored his grin and took a few steps inside the nearly empty room. He looked around, heart sinking again noticing that Lucas had packed almost everything but the posters on the wall. "This is weird, man," he said casually with a nod to all of the empty space. "I can see the floor in here—can't remember the last time that happened."

"C'mon," his son rolled his eyes and went back to his packing. "It hasn't been that bad since—"

"Tuesday, when you started packing."

Lucas smiled and shook his head. Eric clapped him on the shoulder and took a seat on the unmade bed, catching how quickly his son's smile had faded. "You okay, bud?" He nodded without a word and concentrated on unsticking the fabric of one of his t-shirts from the zipper of his bag. "You sure you don't want us to follow you up tomorrow?" he asked for the hundredth time.

"Yes, I'm sure," Lucas reiterated again. "I've made the drive myself before—it's no big deal."

Eric put his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'm just asking."

"It's better if I just go," he said, tucking his soccer cleats on top of his clothes. "If you guys come with," he shook his head. "It'll be all tears and hugs and…"

His father nodded with a chuckle. "We'll cramp your style. I got it." He watched him pack a few more things, not being able to pinpoint his son's mood. "It's okay to be nervous, you know. If that's what's bothering you."

"Yeah," Lucas shrugged. "I guess…a little."

"It's understandable. UNC's a big step but," he dipped his head to try to capture Lucas' eyes. "It's still the same game."

His son glanced up finally and made eye contact. "I'm not worried about soccer, Dad." He zipped up his bag and rested his hands on top of the nylon. "I'm just…" he shrugged again. "I don't know. It's stupid."

"C'mon," Eric prodded. "What is it?"

Lucas ran his hand through his curls. "It's just that…I don't know. I got this scholarship and I'm going to be playing for the great school and you and Mom are so proud of me. I just…" he pursed his lips. "I don't even know if I can do it…I just don't want to screw up."

Eric smiled, a lump forming in his throat. "We're not proud of you because you got a scholarship, or because you're playing soccer for UNC."

He looked up again, confused. "You're not?"

"No," Eric got to his feet. "We're proud of you because you're our son. We don't need any other reason."

Lucas didn't look convinced. "Yeah, but…but what if I suck at college? What if I'm the worst player on the team or I fail all my classes or…"

"C'mere," Eric cut his son off and nodded in the direction of the hallway. "I want to show you something." He led the teenager to the wall outside his door and pointed to the photo that was hanging there. It was from the day that Lucas came home from the hospital. Captured by Maxine's camera, it was a candid shot of their CSI family crowded around an impossibly tiny baby boy. "You see this?"

"Yeah, Dad. Everyday."

"This was the day they told me you were mine—that I could take you home," he felt his voice grow thick at the memory, still so fresh in his mind it could have been yesterday. "You didn't even have a name yet and I already loved you more than I'd ever loved anyone or anything in my life. Your mom and I…" he shook his head. "We loved you since the second we knew that we got to keep you. And we've believed in you since then. All of us, with all our hearts have believed in you…in whatever you do." He swallowed and dared himself to look at Lucas, whose own dark eyes were glistening in the dark hallway. "So to us? You can't fail. No matter what you do or what happens, you can always come home and we'll be here. Okay?"

Lucas clenched his jaw and nodded quickly. "You really mean that?"

"Absolutely, bud. You're always going to be a success to us—impervious to failure."

Blinking back his tears, Lucas grinned. "Impervious? Have you been helping Eva with her vocabulary words again?"

Eric threw an arm around his son's neck and pulled him down to kiss the top of his head. He ruffled his curls. "Go to bed, smartass."

"Okay," he laughed. "Good night, Dad."

"Good night," he started down the hall with another chuckle.

"Dad?"

For just a split second, when he turned around, he saw Lucas standing in the doorway, six years old again. Spiderman pajamas, a bright red ring around his lips, sticky, stuffed dolphin clutched in his hand. He blinked and let the last twelve years catch up and replace his little boy with the tall, good looking young man standing in front of him. "What's up?"

Lucas smiled. "I…uh…I'm not really tired yet." He sniffed. "Want a popsicle?"

Eric laughed again and let one of his tears escape onto his cheek. "I think there's probably a few left in the freezer."

fin

A/N: So there's that. Something that's been in my brain for awhile and finally wormed its way out onto the page. But you know that won't be IT, of course. Because now I've got the bug again. Damnit. And you know who I've been in tv-love with lately? Ryan Wolfe. I've been rooting for him to get the girl and he never does, so here is my question for you folks: if I do still have any readers and if they're reading this...would you be willing to try out Ryan and an original character of mine? I think I'd just do a few one-shots to test the waters. Thoughts? Oh, and on the story, too. Obviously. :)