Promise Me

Brea and Scott Abernathy

Washington D.C.

10 years ago

Brea was once again in the Principal's office, and once again she didn't care one bit. She punched a kid in the face because he was making fun of George, though everyone calls him Groot. He had a lot of trouble communicating. Smart as a whip and funny as can be, but when it came to talk all he could ever say was "I am Groot". Flash, the kid Brea punched, had been bugging poor Groot all day. Brea finally had enough of it when Flash threw dirt at Groot and taunted, "if you like trees so much, why don't you just marry one?" Brea's response involved stomping over to him, turning him around, and punching him square in the nose. Flash fell over like a sack of bricks, screaming on the pavement, and one his of "friends" ran to get one of the teacher's at recess.

Now she was in the Principal's office, sitting on the chair closest to the window and staring out at the sunny blue sky. Principal Morita chastised her for her actions, but Brea wasn't listening. She wondered who was coming to pick her up, slightly hoping it would be Billy. He would give her ice cream and congratulate her on a job well done. Her Dad, Scott, on the other hand would not be so forgiving.

She got her answer soon after the Principal gave up on chastising her. The door to the office opened just as one of the planes for the nearby Air Force Base appeared in the window, making Brea's sardonic attitude brighten up considerably. She loved watching the planes land. It always made her think of her Dad, like watching the planes helped keep him safe or something. Made her feel like she was watching over him.

She turned at the sound of the door opening and leaped out of her chair when she him.

"Dad!" She shouted, arms reaching out the grab him.

He stopped her before she could hug him, "You can me hug later, right now you're in trouble so go sit down."

Brea pouted but otherwise obeyed her Dad. He took the seat next to her and listened diligently while Principal Morita went over what happened on the playground.

Brea didn't care to listen or interrupt, she just smiled and stared at her Dad in amazement.

Scott Abernathy was a handsome man. Red curly locks passed onto his daughter but cut short to fit military standards. Tall, lean, and fit lanky body with definitive muscles bulging from his uniform. Sky blue eyes far too often appearing cold and unforgiving, until he stared into his daughters matching ones. Even now when he was most definitely not happy with her, the cold melted away from his gaze and warmed his heart.

She was the best mistake he ever made.

When he met Carla Russo, he was drunk off his ass and looking anywhere for a quick lay. She was easy, and desperate. He rented a hotel room, and they fucked until he was satisfied, then he left a few hours later letting her know the room is paid for and she could stay until checkout at 10:00 the next morning. He was young and dumb, just starting off with his military career, not thinking about his actions before the inevitable happened. They repeated the same thing over the next couple of months, until Carla revealed that she was pregnant. Afterwards he forced her to take a paternity text to prove whether the child was his (he was ignorant, not stupid) and once the results proved positive, Scott stepped up and did his best.

Carla did not.

Scott was horrified to realize that she was a drug addict. He found out when he walked in on her testing a vein and preparing a needle filled with heroin. He knocked the needle away, scooped her up in his arms, and took her to the nearest rehab center. He visited her every day until she was released, and then once she returned to his home, he hired a caretaker to watch her at all times to ensure she stayed clean and didn't harm their child. He and Carla did not get along, did not care for one another, and definitely didn't share the same views on parenting. Scott, though unprepared at first, was ready and willing to be a father to his child. Carla just wanted a bed to sleep in, to get high at her own leisure, and didn't want to be a mother at all.

It made it very easy for the courts to decide where the child goes once she was born.

It was a laborious and chaotic process. Going into labor 12:30 a.m. on New Years Eve morning, and finally being born at dawn on New Years Day. She was healthy as can be, no side effects from Carla's early drug usage. Based on the process alone, Scott knew his wonderful child was going to be a handful. He named her after his sister who ran off with a surfer and currently lived in Hawaii. She was a handful too.

Carla signed the papers stating she relinquished all rights to Brea hours after birth, and that was the last Scott ever saw of her.

But he did meet her neglected son, Billy, on Violet's 6 birthday though. Though Billy was a marine and Scott a pilot, the two hit it off. They ran into each other when Scott was hunting down his daughter after she ran off the Ferris Wheel while he was thanking the ticket attendant for allowing her on. He and another marine, Frank Castle, searched for his daughter all throughout the carnival until they happened upon her at the water gun booth. She somehow dismantled the machinery and was blasting the attendant in the face.

When Scott asked why, after apprehending her and apologizing to the man, she replied, "He made that girl cry." Pointing to another child with blonde ponytails hugging her mother's waist with a red, tear streaked face. Billy had nodded and asked Scott if he could get her ice cream. Scott allowed it. The Abernathy's joined Billy and the Castle's for the rest of the day, his Brea having fun with little Frank Jr. Scott couldn't remember how they got onto the subject, but eventually it got to Billy's mother, and before they knew it the secret was out. Brea's mother was Billy's mother too.

Billy stuck around after that, desperately wanting to know his little half-sister. Three months afterwards, Scott asked Billy if he wanted to be Brea's secondary guardian, and the person she goes too in the event of Scott's death. Billy accepted with glee, and has been apart of the family ever since, along with Frank as well.

Brea was still a handful after all these years. Scott just came back today after being TDYed for 6 months training pilots at other Air Force Bases. Naturally, the first thing he must do is pick up his daughter from the Principal's office. Not pay bills, get gas, check to see if the cat was still alive, or clean out all the leftover food from the fridge because they had mold on them. He had to reprimand his daughter for punching a kid in the face, which made it so hard because if he were in her position, he would have done the same thing.

"C'mon," He commanded his daughter, thanking the Principal as the two left.

Brea remained quiet as they left the school, not even bothering to turn over the radio to the Temper Trap album she knew was still in the Cd player. Scott didn't say a word to her, too busy mulling over the best way to deal with this situation. That was until he drove passed something he never wanted Brea to see.

A man resisting arrest near the intersection in front of a mom and pop subway shop.

Brea's eyes were wide as can be, taking in the sight before her.

The man was thin and worn, had no shirt and his jeans were dirty as can be. From where Scott was sitting, he could see the man's teeth were rotted and falling out. Drug addict, and a desperate one at that. The policeman behind him pulled out a gun the from the back of his waistband in his falling jeans. The man was fighting, tears falling down his face and hopeless cries louder than the news on his radio.

"They're hurting him!" Brea cried, aiming to take off the seatbelt.

Scott reached over fast as a bullet and grabbed her hands, putting them together so he held them both in one hand before placing the other back on the steering wheel.

"Dad! We have to stop them!"

"No, we don't Brea." Scott grated, hating doing this to his daughter.

The stop light turned green, and Scott accelerated from the scene.

Brea looked at him horror, "Why would you do that? Those jerks were hurting that man!"

"Those jerks were policeman, Brea." He glanced at her, "don't you know what policemen do?"

"Apparently hurt people," Brea retorted, trying to pull her hands from his grasp.

Scott sighed, but said no more. He kept a firm hold on Brea's hands, knowing she'd still try and help the addict no matter how far she needed to travel to do it. That was just the way she was. It wasn't until they made it home that he released her, and she instantly ran out of the car and into the house.

This was not the homecoming he expected.

After much pondering, Scott left his car and entered his home with unease. Once inside he headed to Brea's room after petting their cat Aragorn, who followed him to Brea's room meowing all the while. She was laying on her bed, head buried in her pillows and curled up in a tiny ball. Scott's heart broke at that, but he continued all the same, even when she tensed as he sat on her bed.

"Go away," she commanded beneath the pillows.

"Will you let me explain," he asked tentatively, hand squeezing her exposed ankle gently. "I swear I have a good reason."

She moved a pillow up, glaring at him from its shadow. "What?"

"You know how you felt today when you punched that Flash kid in the face?"

She nodded, "what's your point?"

"Well, Flash was doing something you didn't like. He was hurting someone with his words, which he wasn't supposed to do, right?"

Another nod.

"Well that man the police were apprehending, he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing."

"How can you know that? How can they know that?"

"Did you see what they pulled out of his pocket?"

She shook her head, pushing the pillow up a little bit more.

"It was a gun, sweetie."

Her eyes widened at that, "why did he have a gun?"

"That's probably what the police were wondering too. Did you see how he was acting though when they found it?"

She thought on it, biting her lip in concentration, "he was scared, he kept moving around when they were behind him."

"Yeah, because he didn't want them to know it was there, along with some other stuff he probably had on him too."

"What other stuff?" Brea pushed the pillow off the bed, staring at Scott unencumbered.

"Stuff that would get him trouble, stuff you don't need to know about."

"But why would it be so bad if had a gun? Don't other people have guns?"

Scott took a breath, "yes other people have guns, both good and bad."

"Bad?"

"Yes, bad. Like in that movie I told you not to watch without me last year. Remember?"

She nodded eagerly, "yeah, The Godfather."

"Yes, and even though you like some of the people in the movie, what did we agree on?"

"That it was really long."

Scott chuckled at that, "yes, but what else did we agree on?"

"That they were bad people." Brea responded slowly, unsure of what she was saying.

Scott nodded, "and what made them bad?"

"They hurt others for their own gain?" Brea questioned.

"Which is what that guy today was going to do," Scott replied, "he was going to hurt somebody for his own gain."

"How can you know that when you've never met him?"

"And how can you he's good if you've never met him either?"

Brea shot up to a sitting position, "I never said he was good. I just wanted to stop that from happening to him."

"But why?" Scott implored, eyes staring daggers into his daughters. "Why help someone who isn't good?"

"If I don't, doesn't that make me bad too?"

Scott's heart broke, throwing him for a loop as to how to respond to that.

"Sometimes helping isn't helping at all." Scott rubbed his face, "that man was going to hurt somebody, maybe to the point where he can't come back from it."

"You mean-" she brushed a finger across her throat, pantomiming a dead face.

Scott nodded once more, "once you do that, there's no coming back from it."

"Once a killer, always a killer?"

"Pretty much," he pushed the staticky hair out of her face, "promise me you won't be?"

She nodded eagerly, "I promise."

"Because you know where they go, right?"

"Prison. Where they'll rot away for the rest of their days until they meet the Reaper, right?"

"That's right my sly little fox, and you're too good for that."

She smiled at that before looking down at her bedspread, "dad?"

"Yeah sweetie?"

"Can I hug you now?"

Scott didn't reply. He grabbed her hands and pulled into the best bear hug he could muster. She relaxed in his hold. He stood up from the bed and carried her all the way to the living room, Aragorn meowing incessantly along the way.

They spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling beneath the big Harry Potter blanket he gave her for her 8th birthday. For dinner they teamed up and made beef ravioli with homemade red sauce from scratch. Then they got back under the blanket and started on The Godfather Part 2. While watching it, Brea paused the movie and asked Scott, "Dad, are there times when hurting someone is the right thing to do?"

"It's not right exactly, but sometimes it's the only option. Like today with Flash. Have you tried talking-"

"Flash is all talk; he won't listen to anyone who isn't himself."

"Then he left you with no choice. It was the only thing you could do at the time, and now he won't treat poor Groot that way ever again."

"But it wasn't right," Brea surmised.

"No, but what matters is that you did your best, and that's all I will ever ask of you."

Brea smiled, leaning in and hugging him tight.

"Just remember your promise, sweetie." Scott started when she pulled away. "Don't be like them," he pointed to the TV where Michael and his family were on screen, "don't be a killer. No one's worth taking a life for. No one."

Brea shot out a question before he could stop her, "What if it means saving someone else? Like in those action movies you like?"

"The pain isn't worth it, sweetie, even if the one you save is the kindest, most generous person in the history of man." Scott tangled his hand in Brea's curly red locks, "I don't want you to go through that."

"Don't worry about me, Dad. I'll keep my promise."

Scott smiled, kissing her forehead. "You better, or no Disneyworld for you next Summer."

Brea grinned at that, wrapping her small arms around his neck hugging him tightly as he started the movie up once more.

Scott died 2 weeks later shortly after his plane took off. He ran into a flock of birds, some of them destroying the engines and sending his plane hurtling down to the ground. He didn't have time to eject before it impacted the surface, killing him instantly.

It was the first time in years Brea didn't stare through the window watching the planes fly by. 10 years later, she still blames herself for her Dad's death. She wasn't watching out for him like she was supposed to. She didn't watch for the planes, so she didn't watch out for him.

And she's regretted it ever since.