Title: Shadows of his past
Rating: R - Violence and such
Players: Finney Jr, Finney Sr, and others.
Category: Angst
Summary: Things trigger memories of Finney's past
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: I'm not sure about this fic. The idea came to me while talking to Mona about Finney Jr. I'm taking a risk and really hoping for reviews, even though I know there aren't that many Finney fans out there. I'm not really one myself. But I'm willing to give this a try.
Also if you see any small spelling errors, let me know. I went over a dozen times, and so did one of my friends. But sometimes even if you go over something a few times you miss. Please -PM- me if you find anything. Thank you.

"Yo Finney, earth to Finney." I hear a voice and slowly turn to it.

"Hmm?" I look at my partner Davis.

"Where were you jus' now?" He asked me handing me a cup of coffee.

"Thinking." I stare down into my coffee.

"Who is she?" Davis asked.

I looked at him. "Who?"

"The girl you were thinkin' 'bout?"

I shook my head. "She was - she was, no one you'd know." I sip at my coffee.

"She's gotta be someone, if she's got you all lost out there in la-la land."

"Well she's no one. Okay. Drop it. It's none of your business anyways." I know I sounded harsh, but I didn't need my whole family life being out there for everyone to know.

Ty put his hands up. "Sorry." He leaned against the RMP watching me.

"What?" I snapped turning to him.

"Nothin' - don't worry about it."

"Good." I slipped into the RMP, waiting for Ty. I really didn't feel like talking much anymore, at least not about that.

Ty followed me, and slid into the drivers side. "So was it Grace." He gave me a small smile.

"Grace?" I turned to Davis in question. "What 'bout her?"

"Is that who you were thinkin' of?"

"No."

"Oh," he pasued, "I thought that you two were like an item or sometime."

"Were not." I shortly reply.

"If you say so."

I glare at him. "Damn it Davis, there's nothin' goin' on 'tween me an."

"That's not what I heard." A smirk grew on his lips.

"Yea, well you heard wrong. So drop it."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"Nothin' happen 'tween Grace an' I. Even if it did. It's none of your business."

"Well if nothin' happened between you and her. You awfully defensive."

"Davis please shut up. I'm not the mood."

He sat quiet as he started driving off.

"She is pretty hot."

"Damn it Davis!" I yell. I was really annoyed. Grace and I, were none of his business, it was no ones.

"What 'bout before you shot that guy?"

"Davis," I sigh, "nothing happened."

"Fine nothin' happened. Or so you say. Buy hey man to each his own." He said. "It just seems, or it seemed the day of the shootin' you an' ace. You had something going on.

"Well we didn't so can we finally change the subject an' talk about something else?" I ask, if I didn't I was going to kill me.

----------------

She winced in pain as I placed an ice pack on her eye. "Damn it Bren, that hurts." She turned her face away, just a little bit.

"I'm sorry Bree." I frown pulling it away, I look at it for a moment. Then ever so gently put the icepack back on. "I should'a stayed home."

"It wouldn't have helped, you aren't the one who failed their English test." She hissed in pain once more.

"Yeah but I might have been able to do somethin'." I tell her sadly.

She leans against the bed. "I hate it here Bren, I hate it so much." Tears filled her eyes.

"I know you do." I hand her the icepack and move so that I'm sitting right next to her. "I hate it too, but can we do? I'm 15 an' your 12. Not like we can raise ourselves."

"I'm outta here, when I turn 16 I'm outta here." She said anger in her voice. " I can't do this anymore. I'm sick of makin' up excuses for all the injuries I keep coming up with. I'm sick of watching him beat on Mom, beat on you. Or yelling at me because I don't want to be a cop. If he keeps tellin' me I'm not cut out for it, then why does he keep pushing me? I hate it."

I pull her close to me. "That's all he knows. He lives, he eats, and breaths blue. He doesn't know anythin' else." I kiss her temple.

"Brendan," she rested her head on my shoulder. "I just,- I wish I were dead."

I bit down on my bottom lip. "Well I'd miss you if you were."

"I'd miss you too."

"I know Mom would miss you."

She sighed. "I'm just tired of it. I'm so tired of it."

"Well if you'd straighten your act out." I hear my father voice bellow.

I quickly stand up, putting myself between my father and my sister. Stupid plan, but I didn't know what else to do. "Dad."

"Son, move." He inches closer.

"Just leave her alone." I watch as he pulls off his thick leather belt.

"I said move."

I stand my ground, put her pushes me away, as I stumble to the floor. He turns to me. "Go, downstairs, your mother needs help with the laundry."

I hesitate as he grabs my sister. She has the same red hair as my mother, the same red curly locks. I see her wince as he grabs a hand full in his hand.

"Brendan get your ass down stairs now!"

I look back at my sister one more time, before leaving the room, I run down the stairs, only to turn around and quietly walk back up them. I stand outside my sister's door, listening to the snapping sound as it makes contact with my sisters body. Her cries of pain make the hair on my back stand up.

When I knew he was done, I quickly and quietly made my way back down stairs. I didn't want him to catch me. I suddenly wished I could have superhero powers. That I could be in two places at once. Somehow. One with my mother; like my father wanted. Two with my sister, trying to think of ways to cover the welts I was sure my father left behind.

"That girl will never learn." My father says walking into the laundry room. "She's got a real big mouth, but I'm sure she'll kept it shut for a while. If not there will be some problems."

My mother looks at him, folding laundry she looks back down. I know she wants to say something. But she's to scared.

I look at my father. "You can't just hit her."

"Did I give me permission to talk?"

"No." I reply shortly.

"Then shut up."

"No." I can't believe I just said that.

"Brendan." My mother speaks.

"No I won't shut up. She's little girl, you can't just use her as your punching bag."

My father steps closer to me, grabbing me by the shirt collar. "I'm warning you."

"Do what you want, I don't care, but you ain't hitting her no more!" I close my eyes and prepare myself for what ever pain he was going to inflict on me.

I feel my father fist hit my face, the pain surging through my body, then the blood coming from my nose. "What did you just say?"

"CT!" My mothers voice is filled with fight. Fight for her child's safety.

"Stay out of this Kelly." He hollers at her.

"I said you can't hit her anymore, she's only a little girl. You're gunna kill her."

"Well it will teach her lesson, then." He throws me down to the floor spitting on me. "Go upstairs, you worthless piece of shit."

I look up at him, wiping the blood off with my shirt sleeve. I know his next target is my mother, but this time I can't be there.

Standing up I give my mother an apologetic and head upstairs, to wash my face off, but mainly to see if Bridget was okay.

Stopping outside her room, I could hear her sobbing. "Budgie." Budgie had been a nick name I came up with a few years ago.

She stops sobbing. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

There was silence.

"Budgie...?'

"Uh yeah." She replied softly.

I walk into her room, she was still hunched over on the floor. "Jesus." I look at her.

"Brendan," She turns to me holding her side. "Your nose is bleedin'."

"Nothin' but a little blood." I didn't want to scare her. "Can you get up?"

"Yeah, I don't wanna though. It hurts." She gives me a crooked smile.

"C'mon." I helped her up and on to her bed. Thankfully tomorrow is Saturday, which means no school, and my dad would be working a double. Which meant, she could stay in bed all day. I'd help my mom around the house. "You need anythin'?"

"Can you get me my pajamas? The blue ones, with the yellow bunnies on them, and my gray sweatshirt?"

I nodded, going over to her closet, I closed her bedroom door as I did. I didn't want to her the beating my father was giving my mother.

"Here," I handed them to her. "I'm gunna wash my face off while you change."

She nodded, slowly moving. I could see it hurt her to move. "Thanks Bren."

"No problem." I closed the door behind me, hearing my mother cry down stairs, was only making matters worse.

--------------

"55 David." I hear the radio come to life, I look over at Davis as he drives.

"55 David." I reply.

"55 David take a report of a domestic disturbance, 123 and Riverside."

"123 and Riverside, 10-4." I flip the lights and sirens on as Davis picks up speed. Great just the type of call I loved. Domestics.

Ty stopped the RMP out side the given address, where a husband was beating on his wife.

"Alright, enough. Break it up already." I yell. I watch as the man continues to beat on his wife. She pinned in a corner with nowhere to go, her hands hovering over her head.

The guy turned to me and just laughed, before beating on his wife some more.

I could see on her face, he had done enough damage. I gave him one more warning, when he didn't stop, I pulled out my nightstick, and cracked him on the knee. It sent him down. "You think it's fun beatin' on a helpless woman. You want to know how it feels buddy." I raised the nightstick high above my head, bringing it down I made contact with him. "That's how it feels." I repeated this a few more times before I felt Davis pulling me off of him.

"Finney, that's enough. Go over there now!" He yelled pointing at the RMP.

I took a few steps back my eyes locked on the man. "It'll teach him not to beat on women again." I yelled loud enough so he could hearing. Turning I walked back to the RMP hearing as Davis called for a bus. I was going to have to explain this to Swersky, but I didn't care. It would be a long time before the man ever thought about laying a hand on his wife.

------------------------

"What were you thinking." Swersky yells at me.

I look up at him, my face unmoved. "That a man shouldn't be beatin' on his wife"

"As much as you would probably like too, you can't beat up everyman who beats his wife."

I just stare at him. It was a little more personal then some husband beating on his wife. "Yes sir."

"You beat him into coma." Swersky said.

I nodded.

He paced back and fourth for a little before finally stopping. "You're done today." he said as my Father walked in.

He looked at me, then at Swersky. "Your sending my boy home?"

"I don't have a choice." Swersky replied. "Brendan, go get dressed."

"I was about to walk out the door."

"Brendan, stay." I hear my fathers voice. "Why are you sending him home?"

"He beat a man with his nightstick." Swersky replies.

"I'm sure he had a very good reason." There was little to no emotion in my mothers voice, he seemed as cold as ice.

"So it's okay to beat someone, if an officer has a reason?" Swersky asks.

My father turns to me. "Brendan why did you beat this man?"

I pause, almost scared to tell him the real reason. "I -- well sir he was beatin' his wife." I said in a whisper.

"I can't hear you."

"I said he was beating his wife, sir." I replied, louder so he could hear this time.

My Dad turns and looks at Swersky, pointing to me. "See he had a reason."

I found it a bit ironic that my father, a man who got off on beating his wife, found justice in what I did.

"Still isn't an excuse," Swersky replied. "he goes home."

"This isn't over Lieutenant." I hear my old man say.

"Oh I think it is." Swersky replied as my father leaves the room. he turns to me. "I'll see you tomorrow. Take some time to clear your head."

"Yes sir, see you tomorrow sir."

He just nodded at me as I exited his office heading to roll call.