A/N: Hey there! I hope you guys enjoy this first chapter. It's pretty much introducing my OC Samantha Daley who is portrayed by Emily Vancamp. I'll be following the show from the beginning, so season 1 episode 1. I'd love to know what you think! :)

Blood Runs Deep

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Samantha's Point of View

When I was a little girl I used to sit on my parent's bed and watch my father get ready for work in awe. I watched as he buttoned up his light blue collared shirt one button at a time with his head held high and proud. Then he would pull his black bulletproof vest over his head and secure it tightly around his upper torso. He would always let me pin his badge onto his uniform. The tiny metallic star shaped badge had, 'Patrolman of the Chicago Police Department' engraved onto it.

It was thrilling to see my father go from a run of the mill loving guy to this tough street smart cop in a matter of minutes. When he wore his uniform he held himself in a completely different way, he stood tall and proud with purpose and his shoulders back. I knew back then I wanted to be a cop. I wanted to help people like my father and be looked at the way people looked at him.

"Got to go save the day, peanut." He would say as he carried me downstairs for breakfast once he was finished getting ready.

"You're like superman daddy! One day I want to be just like you!" I would squeal and wrap my arms around his neck. He'd laugh his gruff hearty laugh and plop me down on the counter to pour him a cup of coffee to go.

"Well then that would make you superwoman, now wouldn't it?" He would grin while I played with the hat to his uniform. It looked sort of like a conductor's hat with a checkered pattern around the bottom.

"Just you wait and see, I'm gonna be a copper just like you when I get older. I know I will." I would say sternly.

"I bet you will be one of the best cops out there, peanut." He'd smile at me proudly.

I would stand barefoot on the counter and place his hat upon his head for him every morning. It was like our ritual. He worked late most nights so the mornings were our time together. Once we were finished in the kitchen he'd help me hop off the counter and I'd walk with him to the front door. He'd kneel down in front of me for a bear hug and kiss my nose making me giggle.

"Take care of your momma now." He'd whisper before holding out his pinky finger for me to latch mine onto. I'd nod my head and smile. Then he would look over my shoulder and tell my older brothers to take care of me.

"You and me dad?" I would say arching my eyebrows at him inquisitively.

"Me and you kid." He replied smiling then he would be out the door.

I stood staring at my reflection in the mirror adjusting the leather gun holster on my right side and the shiny newly engraved metal badge beside it remembering the exact day I declared I would become a cop. It was in my father's blood and it was in my brother's blood as well. I felt it coursing through mine every second of every day. I've wanted this for so long and now it's finally happening. Today is the beginning of everything for me. I've worked my ass off at the academy to graduate top of my class. I'm one of the youngest ever to ace the Detective Exam on the first try. Let's hope I don't screw it up too much, at least not on the first day anyway.

Being young has its advantages and disadvantages. I can run a mile in eight minutes. I can do fifteen pushups and twenty nine sit ups per minute. I can knock a guy on his ass by myself if need be. None of that matters when you get down to it though, I'm twenty three. In the eyes of most men and some women I'm naïve and not capable of handling high stress situations or making the hard calls. Because of that no one wants to take a chance on me. At least they didn't until now, thanks to my father.

All the years of late nights at the office and over dosing on caffeine finally paid off for my father.

Four years ago he was promoted making him the new Police Commissioner of Chicago. At one of our weekly dinner's I mentioned how I'd been rejected from almost every precinct in the city and the next morning I got a call from a Sargent Platt to come in for an interview. I am extremely grateful that someone is willing to give me a chance. I just really wanted to do this on my own without the influence of my father's authority backing me. It's hard enough walking in his shadows everywhere I go, plus my brother's as well.

At twenty three I would like to say I have my life figured out, but I would be lying. I still eat cold leftover pizza for breakfast and do my laundry at midnight. All of my relationships have burned and flamed out because of my dedication to my job. While my personal life may be a mess most of the time, being a cop is the one thing that I am good at.

I bustled about my tiny studio apartment finishing up getting ready while I listened to the news playing in the background. The news reporter was talking about another new drug that has been found on the streets that kids are overdosing on. I shook my head feeling my heart sink for all the parents that had to bury their children too soon. That's not how it's supposed to work. The children are supposed to bury their parents. Jax my Scottish Fold cat sunbathed in the window soaking up the warm rays and watched me. He meowed as I headed into the kitchen.

"I won't forget to feed you, Jax." I reassured him.

I pulled a half empty bag of cat food out of the cabinet and filled his small ceramic bowl to the top then wrote cat food on the chalkboard hanging on the fridge reminding myself to pick more up on my way home from work.

I poured myself a second cup of coffee and glanced at the clock on the microwave above the stove. It read seven o'clock.

"Shit..." I muttered grabbing my keys and purse off the counter and gulping down the rest of my coffee before placing it on the counter because the sink was full of dishes. I would be mortified if I showed up late to my first day with a new unit. I still had to check on my mother too.

"See you later, Jax." I said rushing out the front door.

Sitting at a red light I fished through my purse searching for my cell phone to call my mother. It's been about a week since I've heard hide or hair from her which in her condition is usually never a good thing.

A horn honked behind me alerting me the light had changed to green forcing me to toss my purse in the passenger seat and get moving. I'm only five minutes away from my mother's apartment downtown. Calling her really wouldn't do much good anyway; she never answers the damn phone I bought her for emergencies anyway. It had always been my job to take care of her, even when I was younger.

My mother had gotten pregnant at a young age with my two older brother's Brett and Mike. She ended up dropping out of high school and giving up her dreams of becoming a lawyer to become a full time mother despite her dismay. Then after a few years I came into the picture. To the outside world we were the picture perfect family. We attended family barbeques in the summer and posed for Christmas cards in December. You know the ones that look so happy and carefree in the fake photo you see placed inside a new picture frame. But, on the inside it wasn't at all what it seemed.

My father worked most of the time to ascend his way through the ranks at 19th division, leaving my mom home to take care of us. Most days you could tell she was unhappy with her life. I mean she took care of us, but to the minimum. There was extra love or support given on her end whatsoever.

I maneuvered my way through the bustling and busy streets of downtown Chicago during morning rush hour traffic. I've lived here my entire life and honestly couldn't see myself living anywhere else. The city is so full of life and excitement. It's never a dull moment that's for sure. One thing I adore about the city is having so many different unique people thrown together in such a small area. Although, being a beat cop for two years showed me areas of the city I never wanted to see.

After parallel parking on the street I grabbed my cell and stepped out of my Suburban into the crisp cool autumn morning air. The sound of traffic filled the air as I walked quickly to the door of the apartment building rubbing the sides of my arms to knock off the chill that I had. I cleared my throat as I hit the buzzer to apartment 34 repeatedly. I needed my mother to buzz me in. I held my finger over the intercom rattling the door handle.

"Mom, it's me! Open the door." I spoke into the tiny speaker rolling my eyes feeling a slight pang of worry wash through me.

"Mom, come on open up." I said again growing impatient. It was around seven in the morning. I didn't really want to hit every single call button on the door to see if someone would buzz me in like I've had to do so many times before. I glanced over my shoulder to see her car parked on the curb, and by on the curb I literally mean on the curb. I shook my head in disappointment.

Obviously, she wasn't going to buzz me in so I would have to find another way in. I needed to be at work in twenty minutes so it's not like I could stand here and wait for someone to exit the building and grab the door. I pulled my cell out of my back pocket as I wondered around to the back of the building. I called my mother only for the call to go straight to voicemail. Angrily, I shoved my phone back in my pocket and started up the creaky wrought iron fire escape. Her apartment was on the fourth floor so this would be a nice little pre work warm up.

I made my way to the top of the fire escape and came to her window. Peering inside I could see multi colored liquor bottles lining the coffee table and the end tables near the couches. My eyes roamed across the living room landing on her body lying motionless on the carpet. "Mom!" I yelled banging on the window feeling panic washing over me. I tried to open the window only to find that it was locked.

I grabbed the hand gun at my side and turned it around to bust the window open. The glass cracked after two good hits with the butt of my weapon. I knocked a whole big enough into the window to reach my hand in an unlock it. Pushing the window up I quickly climbed in and rushed over to my mother's body.

"Mom! Wake up!" I said rolling her gently onto her back. I placed two fingers on her neck and felt a pulse. She was passed out from the pity party she threw herself apparently. "Mom!" I yelled again frustrated that she always had to do something like this. This wasn't the first time I've found her like this. After my parents divorced when I was eleven things became even harder for my mother. She would stay in bed for days on end and she started drinking like a fish to numb whatever pain she was feeling.

I pushed myself to my feet and walked into the kitchen a got a glass of cold water and walked back into the living room and poured it on her. She awoke startled yelling and coughing. It took her a minute to realize where she was and who I was. "What?" She spat looking up at me from the floor.

"Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" I asked helping her up off the floor and onto the couch. I grabbed her a hand towel from the kitchen so she could wipe the water off of her face.

"What happened to my window?" She snarled snatching the towel out of my hand. There were shards of broken glass all over the carpet now. I shrugged and shook my head.

"I saw you lying there unconscious and I thought you were dead." I said dryly.

"Well I'm not dead, so you can go on now." She said lifting random bottles off the coffee table searching for one that still had an ounce of liquid left in it. I felt my blood beginning to boil at the sight of her. She looked like a homeless person that lived on the streets. She felt like because she had children her life ended and then dad left her and that just made things even worse.

"I can't keep doing this with you, mom. You need to go to your meetings and check in with your counselor. That's what I am paying for." I said harshly grabbing the liquor bottle out of her hand and placing it in the trash. She scoffed and lit a cigarette glaring at me.

"I don't need you to take care of me. I don't need you at all. I never wanted you or your brothers. You all ruined me. So just go!" She snapped at me. I've heard this speech a thousand times so I'm numb to the blow now. I stood there shaking my head as I continued to clean the bottles off the table.

"I start work with the intelligence unit today." I informed her. Not that she would really even care.

"Your daddy get you that job? Those people are going to hate you." She smirked pulling a small glass bottle of whiskey out of the couch cushions. She was probably right about that. I would look like the spoiled little princess getting what she wants. I placed the trash bag full of bottles by the trashcan and turned on my heel to look at my aging mother. I hate seeing her this way.

"I'll bring you some groceries after my first shift. I'm going to be late, so thanks for that mom. Take a shower and clean up some." I told her before opening the front door and walking out.

I've come to the conclusion that my mother will never change her ways. That's why Brett and Mike have absolutely nothing to do with her now. They ask how she is from time to time, but they don't check on her like I do. She might not love me and I've accepted that, but she will always be my mom until one day she won't be…