A/N: I'm not sure about this fic. The idea came to me while talking to Mona about Finney Jr. The first chapter is short because I want to see what people think before I really going into this fic. So let me know.
"Again!" He shouted.
The sound of gunfire filled the room.
"Again, keep going until I say stop. Until I think you've done good enough."
"But my hands hurt Dad."
"Suck it up. AGAIN!"
It seemed to go on for another twenty-five minuets, until I couldn't watch anymore. "Dad, she's had enough. She can hardly hold on to the gun anymore."
His cold, glaring eyes locked on me. I was going to say something, but I knew better. "She better learn how, if she wants to survive on the streets. She needs to learn how to shoot. What if she gets in a gun fight with some skel? I don't want the captain coming to my house, saying my child is dead because she failed to defend herself." He turned to here. "AGAIN!"
I looked at him, I may have only be eight years old, but I wasn't stupid. . "She's only five years old." I looked as my sister held the gun in her small shaking hand.
"Yes and in 17 years she'll be in the PA, she needs to start somewhere." He turned back to her. "AGAIN!"
I jumped each shot that was fired, there was nothing I could do, he knew better the to fight with my old man, unless I wanted a fat lip and a black eye to match.
By the time we got home it was close to dinner, and My Dad was still pissed. Then again he was always pissed. We walked into the house the aroma of pot roast filling the air.
"Bridget go upstairs to your room, now. I want you to think about how poorly you did today. And you won't be joining us for dinner." His voice was harsh, he meant business.
Saying nothing, she quickly ran up the stairs. I would be sneaking her scraps tonight. If I could.
"Brendan get in the kitchen and you help your mother with dinner. Now!"
"Yes sir." I replied just as he smacked the back of my head getting me to hurry along, before retreating to his office, for a glass of scotch.
"Did you kids have fun?" My mother asked me, keeping busy with dinner.
"Yes Mom." I replied. I knew not to tell her the truth. That I honestly didn't have fun. I hated it. The way my father pushed me over and over. Pushing me until I couldn't go on any more. The same he did with my sister. Bridget and I were going to be cops. Follow in our fathers footsteps, and we had no choice in the matter. He had planned our future all out for us. It was his life, not ours.
She smiled softly. My mother had the most beautiful smile. That was when my father didn't fatten her lip. But she was still a beautiful woman, who I loved more then anything. "Where's Bree?"
"Dad sent her upstairs, she didn't do so good." I say softly.
My mother nodded in reply, looking towards the living room making sure my old man wasn't there. "I'll fix her something you can sneak up to her. But you got to be careful Brendan. Don't let your father know."
I nodded in reply, as I set the table. "Yes mom." I couldn't how many time I had been caught either sneaking food for myself, or Bridget, and my old man catching me. It would usually end up with the beating of a lifetime. My dad wasn't necessarily the sweetest man on earth.
My mother started putting dinner on the table, and then went to get my father from his office. They would probably fight for a good ten minuets about letting Bridget come down to dinner. But I knew my father wouldn't back down. "She's gotta learn to be tough, or she won't survive one week on the streets." that's what he would say.
Everything was based on being in blue, his children being in blue. He didn't care what he did to us, as long as we would make it in the blue.
The three of us had dinner. My dad talk about work, told me what I shouldn't do and should do when I was on the force. What we would work on the net time we went to the range. How he was going to take Bridget to the ranger the next day, hoping she would do better. He asked an awful lot out of a five year old girl.
My mom, wouldn't dare object or say anything. Last time she did that, she ended up the hospital with a broken wrist. My dad, you just didn't cross him. I felt bad for her, and my sister. They were never good enough for him.
"The meats a little dry." he commented, wiping his mouth.
"I'm sorry. Y-you want some gravy?" My mother asked. I could tell she was scared.
"It won't help. No matter what you do, you can't do anything right." He slammed his fits on the table, causing some of the silverware to fly up. "Damn it, is it that hard to ask for a nice meal. How hard is it took cook a pot roast? Are you stupid or something."
My mom jumped. "Please CT." Her voice filled with fear, begged my father.
"Damn it, I work hard to put food on this goddamned table the least you could do is cook it right." He stood up, taking his plate, he threw the entire thing into the trash, then walked over to my mother, grabbing her by her fiery red hair and getting into her face. "Sometimes I don't even know why I bothered to marry you. Your worthless. Nothing but a no good piece of shit." He slapped her hard, causing me to jump.
I wanted to help my mother, but fear had me frozen in my seat. I could feel my fists clenching as my dad shoved my mother out of her chair and to the floor, picking up her plate. He spilled it on the floor. He picked up the plate in which the pot roast sat on, and spilled it on the floor too. He knelt along side her. ""It's disgusting crap. Only a dog would eat it." He shoved her face into the food, holding it there. "I'm going to watching the evening sport report, when I get back this mess better be clean." He hissed taking a few steps away from her. My Dad stopped, turning and kicked her in the ribs as hard as he could before finally going back to his office.
I sat for a few minuets, listening to my mothers cries, slowly I moved from my seat to her side. "Mommy..." I looked at her face, her lips bleeding. "You okay?"
"Brendan sweetie, go upstairs. There's food in the refrigerator for your sister. Take it to her. Go upstairs, okay. I'm okay." She kissed me even though her lip was throbbing. "I love you."
I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to leave my mom, but staying would only make it worse. "You want me to go get Mrs. Murphy?" I ask.
"No sweetie, just go upstairs."
I slowly stand to my feet, my eyes still on my mother I nodded my head. "Okay Mommy, I love you too" I find the food my mom fixed for my sister, and quickly head upstairs, hoping there wouldn't be around two tonight.