Title: Scenes

Author: ZombieJazz

Fandom: Chicago PD

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Chicago PD and its characters belong to Dick Wolf. The character of Ethan has been created and developed for the sake of this AU series.

Summary: A collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening immediately after So This is Christmas. As I continue to update, they'll just provide one-shot snap shots into the characters' lives and likely some recasts of scenes from the show. This series focuses on Voight and his family, as well as Erin Lindsay's growing relationship with Jay Halstead. This is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes.

SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics and So This is Christmas.

Voight could see that Platt had spotted them before they'd even gotten inside. It was hard not to spot them anymore with the speed Ethan moved at and the contraptions he had attached to both of his arms. They'd definitely lose out in a high-speed chase. And Hank had been more than forced to slow his usual charge down the street when he had his boy with him. It was a snail's pace anymore.

He had hope, though, that shit would speed up. Eventually. He'd seen other kids not much older than E at the Rehab Institute that were on these fucking crutches that were on back order. They could really get a good clip going after they learned how to navigate the things. Almost looked like fun on those flat smooth floor of the hospital, at least. Fucking rocking and swinging and propelling themselves along leaving their parents in the dust. He'd seen more than a couple folks calling at their teen boys to slow the fuck down and to not knock anyone over. So there was still hope.

For now, though, his boy pretty much looked like some sort of crab on another planet. Fucking stairs in the front of the building. Bullshit. He was thinking about putting in a complaint. Get some fucking ramps. Wasn't just about his kid either. They were eliminating a whole segment from the community from feeling like they could come inside because of the obstacles they had in their way. Funny how you let yourself be blind to that shit until you were actually dealing with it. Until you were standing outside your place of work and holding shit up and giving fucking patrol cops dirty looks for every look of sympathy they tossed you. Fuck that. Neither him nor his kid needed any of that bullshit. Ethan was doing just fine. He just needed some time and space to get up the fucking stairs.

Platt gave Voight a bit of a look as they finally got into the lobby. There wasn't pity too it. But he could see some acknowledgement – minor sympathy. Didn't bother him as much when it came from Trudy, though. He'd known her long enough that it was allowed. She'd seen his kids grow up. Knew some of his family's backstory first-hand – not off the fucking rumor mill. So she could look. She hadn't seen Ethan in nearly a month. She'd made a point of asking him in a non-obstructive way how his kid was doing. Not doing it when there was a fucking audience or when he just needed to get upstairs to the job. He appreciated that.

"Well, that can't be Ethan Voight," she said as they neared the front desk. His boy cast her a bit of a look, his face falling slightly. He was likely expecting to get slagged about the crutches. But Platt just leaned over the counter and caught his eyes better. "The Ethan Voight I know wouldn't be caught dead in anything but a Cubs hat."

Ethan lit up a bit at that. A smile pulling at his lips. "We went to a Blackhawks game!" he told her with some genuine excitement.

"You?" Platt asked in some false shock. "Hockey? I don't believe what I'm hearing."

But getting his baseball crazy son to a hockey game had happened. Though, Ethan made sure to start the night off frustrating. Had "forgotten" his beanie in the car. Hank should've noticed. He hadn't. He'd been more focused on getting his kid to the stadium without him getting trampled on the way. Busy holiday game. Of course Ethan didn't complain about being cold – at which point, Voight realized it was because of the missing hat – until they were queued up to have their tickets scanned. Should've sent Erin or Justin back to the car. Or just gone himself. But hadn't. It'd taken them enough time to make the walk. Wanted to get his family all established so they could just enjoy the game. Maybe see a bit of the warm-up. So instead he'd ended up buying E another fucking hat in the souvenir shop. He was fairly certain it might've been a ploy by the little fucker all along – because since he got the thing on his head, E had made a point of saying several times that all the other little fuckers at school at fucking Blackhawks gear.

Voight got it. His kid wanted to fit in. How do you break it to a twelve year old that that likely wasn't ever going to happen? It didn't mater if had Conserves or overpriced headphones or the home team gear. None of that shit was ever going to get him a spot at the popular table. Wasn't going to getting him to the jocks' - or whatever other fucking clique owned the school these days – good graces. He was always going to be "Two Face" or "Harvey" or "Dent". The disfigured kid, missing an ear who was hobbling around on crutches. So instead you just tell your kid not to care what other people think or say. Tell him to man up. Toughen up. Grow up. Then you just hug the shit out of them every chance you get and remind them their you're little boy and how much you fucking love them and always will. Not that that helps.

It'd been the first of too many purchases that night. If the parking wasn't fucking expensive enough. Then he'd bought the kids couple overpriced beers each. And Magoo – of course – had to have something too. Fucking Coke that cost just as much of his older kids pops. Ridiculous. Erin had tried to pull out cash to cover it. But fuck that. The kids had already doled out too much on the tickets. He wasn't going to let them pick up the supplemental costs of the evening too.

And it'd been a good evening. Good game. Got into OT and ended in a shootout until finally the Blackhawks finished it out at 3-2. Been an edge of the seat kind of game. Fun. But wouldn't have matter what kind of game it'd been. Been such a long time since he'd been to a game that just being there was nice. Being there with all his kids. That'd never happened before. Magoo was too little before. Only ever had J to the games a handful of times. Never Camille. She'd always opted out. Said if she wanted to watch the game with a bunch of drunk, macho posturing men, she could go down to Mahoney's and do it for free. She had a point but still nothing quite like taking in a game live. And with them being up in the three-hundreds and it being the holiday match-up there'd been enough families with little ones that he'd felt pretty comfortable with having Ethan in the seats. He'd experienced worse behavior at a Cubbies games anyways. As for Erin, he'd only ever had Erin to a game once – because like E, hockey just wasn't her thing.

That might be changing too, though. Maybe. He could hope. The Rehab skate had some of the sledges they used for sled hockey available to give a whirl. E had been reluctant at first. They'd take him around a couple times with him gripping the boards – and them – on his twisted feet and unsteady legs. But there'd been other people whipping around on the sledges. Voight wasn't sure if it was his J or Erin's Jay that convinced E that he wanted to give the sleds a try. He actually thought whichever one of them it was – it was only because those two supposed men wanted to give the things a try. The three of them had ended up over there getting strapped into the things.

His J had done a better job at scooting around the rink in it. But Justin was just ripped anymore. He had the upper body strength of it. And, really, Voight liked that his boy was giving fucking Halstead a run for his money. Eth, though, he got it figured out – eventually. Couldn't get up as much speed with the picks as the other guys – but he was smaller in just about every way. He'd been smiling, though. Actually talked about it after. And when the guy managing the sledges had told him about the youth sledge hockey program – which they'd been told about MANY fucking times before – Eth actually listened and didn't completely shutdown and be a little asshole to the guy.

So maybe … MAYBE … they'd found something that his boy would want to participate in again. Get him in some sports again. Get him some exercise. Build up some of his strength. And maybe get him meeting some kids who weren't going to treat him like a fucking outcast freak. That'd be good for Voight too because anymore it felt like by the end of most weeks he just wanted to go into that fucking school and bust skulls – and not always the kids'. Sometimes parents and teachers too.

Whatever the outcome, though, it'd been a good weekend. Always nice when the holidays landed on the weekend. Now with being up the chain of command and got the weekends "off". Meant he got three whole days with his kids. Only got two work-related phonecalls the whole time. Some kind of record. And the kids had been on their best behavior. Just the usual bickering – no all-out blowouts like sometimes happened when the three of them shared space.

Something you didn't realize growing up as an only child was that siblings seemed to exist purely to annoy the living fuck out of each other. Fight like fuckers. But Voight saw the good they brought out in each other too. The way the could support each other and be there for each other – especially with having the age gaps between them. Gave him some comfort to know that they'd have that – each other – even after he was gone. God willing. That things went the right order in his family and none of his babies went before him. One of his biggest fears was ever having to deal with that. Had been close enough to it with how hurt Ethan had got when he'd lost Camille. Losing his wife was enough for a lifetime. Didn't want to see one of his kids go before him but sometimes he worried with the lines of work his older two had ended up in and with E's health.

Not much point in dwelling on that, though. Couldn't predict the future. And life wasn't fair no matter how you cut it. Better to just focus on the now. And the now was that he'd gotten to have Christmas with his three kids. Got to go skating with his three kids and his grandbaby and got to have all three of his kids out together at a hockey game for the first time ever. And had a weekend where there hadn't been any screaming, yelling, crying or flying fists. And with his three – all of that was a pretty big fucking accomplishment.

"You sure Santa left those tickets in the right stocking," Platt put to his boy.

"They were Dad's," Ethan told her.

"Ahh," Platt acknowledged. "That explains it." She cast a look at him. "Sounds like Santa was pretty good to you."

"They were from us!" Ethan protested.

Voight gave his boy's shoulder a small squeeze before he went on another one of his "Santa's not real" I'm-going-to-look-a-gift-horse-in-the-mouth bemoans.

"Was," Voight agreed. "He do good at your place too?"

Platt gave him a shrug. "Old Dog tries," she allowed. "Not so good with the ladies or the romancing."

Voight gave her a thin smile. "He'll get better."

"Mmm…" Trudy rolled her eyes.

"Did Firemen Mouch get you a frying pan?" Ethan asked excitedly. "Because Dad bought Mom a frying pan the first Christ they were married! And she hated it."

Voight looked at him. "She didn't hate it. She just didn't want it for Christmas."

Ethan looked at him seriously. "Dad! She hated it! She told the story every year. J and Erin STILL tell the story for her EVERY CHRISTMAS!"

Voight looked at Platt. "It was a real nice cast iron skillet," he clarified. "And we still have it. Twenty-five years later."

Ethan looked at Platt too. "She hated it."

Voight gave his head a shake. "And she didn't ever get kitchenware for Christmas ever again after that. So … he'll learn."

Platt gave him a thin smile.

He put two containers on the counter for her and pushed them across. "After Christmas special," he said and tapped on the one lid. "Gingerbread cake with caramel sauce."

Her eyes lit up at that. "You trying to corrupt my girlish figure, Hank?" she commented but she was already taking the Tupperware and working on getting it put under the counter in a space where it'd clearly go unseen and unshared.

"Still got a few more days until New Year's Resolutions kick in, right?" he put back to her. "And a thank you," he added.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he pulled out his phone, working at calling up a photo of Henry with the stocking she'd obliged to making. He handed it to her. She allowed as much of a smile as Platt ever did.

"Getting big," she provided.

"Mmm …" Hank allowed as she handed the phone back. "He's sturdy."

He flipped around on the phone again and pulled up a photo of all the kids together with their stockings. Usually he forced them to pose for that shot before they dug in. But that year the socks had been emptied out before he had them all together.

He liked the photo. A lot. It was a cheaper. Justin had Henry in his lap. His boy a man. All grown-up and clearly settling into and enjoying his new role as Daddy. He was pulling it off. Clearly loved his baby boy. Then there was Erin and Magoo. E had ended up flopped in Erin's lap and the kid still wasn't quite too big for that. He hadn't caught what they were on about but Ethan was looking up at his sister with a smart-ass grin and Erin was looking right back down at him with that toothy laugh of hers. Whole thing reminded him how lucky he was with all his kids.

Happy kids. Happy adults. Happy grandson. They were doing OK. That made him happy too.

He handed the phone with the photo still pulled up back to Trudy again. "Fit right in real good," he said.

She looked at the picture and shook her head, pulling her reading glasses up to her eyes.

"Wow," she muttered as she stared at it. "I remember the one where it was this guy that size in Justin's lap."

"Mmm …" Hank acknowledged again as she again returned the phone to him. He smiled a little as he looked at the picture.

"Careful, Hank," she said. "Think I see a smile there. Wouldn't want people here knowing you're capable of that."

He gave her a condescending snort and kept looking at the picture for a moment. "That picture you're remembering, J would've been 'bout the age this one is now."

Platt just shook her head. "Time," she provided. "Where's it go?"

Voight shrugged. So fucking true. Where did it go. His oldest coming up on her thirtieth and engaged. His oldest boy married and a son of his own. His youngest would be a teenager in the coming year. Camille gone more than five years now. And him about to turn fifty-five years old. He had a long list of "seems like yesterday" moments. Didn't know where all the days between had materialized from.

"How you like being an uncle?" Platt put to Ethan.

Ethan gave her a look. "He drools a lot."

"He's a baby," Platt said.

"And he bites!"

Voight gave his son a look and then looked at Trudy. "He's teething," he clarified.

"He's not much fun yet," Ethan added.

Voight gave him a sterner look. "He's a baby," he emphasized again.

Ethan just looked at him. Seemed to be a concept that his boy couldn't quite wrap his head around. He was pretty sure E would've preferred that Henry be born about four or six years old so he had something that resembled a playmate. But he remembered that phase. Justin had been less than enamored with Ethan as a baby too. By the time he was playmate age, Justin wasn't quite as interested in having a playmate anymore. He just wanted his baby brother to leave him alone most of the time by then. Hopefully it'd be a bit of a different dynamic between a nephew and uncle. But that remained to be seen.

"I made the cookies!" Ethan told Platt enthusiastically, clearly sick of having to talk about Henry.

He was hurting some from having to share everyone's attention with the baby home. E was very used to being the baby of the house. There was some jealousy going on. He wanted Justin's attention. He was used to having Erin's dedicated attention most of the time. And he definitely wanted Dad's attention. He'd been going out of his way to really play up some of his health stuff to get a little extra Dad attention. Voight wasn't blind to what was going on. But he also wasn't taking chances by ignoring it either. Not after what their month had looked like.

"Oh?" Trudy raised and eyebrow at him. "Two cooks in the Voight kitchen?" she put to the kid as she reached to pop the lid on the second container.

"Yea, you're gonna want to share those," Voight added when he saw her face change slightly at the sight of the cookies. He knew why. The things looked like a diabetic coma waiting to happen with mess of icing Ethan had got on top of them.

"Dad said we had to bring all the leftovers into work today. So there'll be more upstairs, if you want them!"

"I'll be sure to let everyone know …" she said, casting Voight a look, before taking that container and placing it on the island behind the front desk. Even with the way the things looked, Voight knew patrolmen passing through would likely pack them away in short order. It was the ones upstairs in the Intelligence lunchroom that might go untouched and E was more likely to notice and ask why not one was eating his baking. Though, Ruzek and Atwater could likely polish off the whole container themselves in short order.

As she started back to the counter there was a little yelp, followed by another – and it was Ethan's turn to light up, standing on his tippy toes and trying to see over the counter. Kid was so fucking short.

"Is one of the police dogs here?"

"No," Platt said and gestured dismissively back in behind the counter, looking to Voight. "Some Grinch decided it was really in the spirit to dump a box of puppies in a snowpile in the middle of the storm—"

"THERE'S PUPPIES!" Ethan nearly screamed at her. Voight was pretty sure the kid likely just filled his urine bag based on the glee that was emitted from him.

"Yea," Platt said and dismissively gestured at Magoo to go ahead and come behind the counter. Voight gave him daggers but E was ignoring him – struggling with his fucking crutches to get behind the counter as quick as possible. Platt wasn't even watching, she was completely into her story, still giving him the play-by-play.

"Things didn't get found 'til the next day when some other buddy was digging out," she said. "Some of the little things didn't make it. So buddy takes them inside to get the living dead ones warmed up the best he can. But barely has them out of hypothermia before he's decided he wants them outta the house as quick as possible because his kids are thinking they fell of Santa's sleigh and guess Santa got that wish list wrong."

"I wanted a puppy too," Ethan said from off behind the counter. He'd found the box and managed to let himself fall to the ground in front of it. He had one of the things in his lap and Voight was still attempting to give him the evil eye. "Dad said no."

"Mmm …" Platt allowed, still hardly registering it. "So this guy has trouble getting the things somewhere that makes sense. I don't even like dogs and could tell you about ten places to call. So what's the genius do? Drops them off here and now we're waiting on the SPCA to come and get them. But with the roads still the way they are and apparently a shit ton of assholes out there leaving their animals out in this weather – coming and getting them doesn't seem to be much of a priority. So now, welcome to the 31st Pet Store. Office Hemlock – already has claimed one. Rate the pound's going, will have them all adopted before they show up to collect them."

"PEOPLE CAN TAKE THEM?" Ethan shrieked again.

Voight really did catch his eyes that time and pointed sternly at him. "No," he said.

Ethan gave him a pout and held up the little brindle colored dog that he was clutching. The thing licking at his face. "But Daddy look at him!"

"No," Voight told him again.

Ethan huffed at him and went back to stroking at one of the other dogs in the box – though the one in his lap didn't look like it had any intention of moving.

"C'mon," Voight ordered. "You wanted to see Mouse before we go over to the hospital."

Ethan shook his head. "I'll stay here with the puppies," he muttered.

Voight let out a bit of a sigh and eyed Trudy. "Got him here 'bout two hours 'til his appointment."

She gave him a little nod. Bit of an unspoken agreement they had. If shit wasn't hitting the fan – if he needed place for Eth to sit while he dealt with the job, he could sit with her.

"Put him to work," Voight told her and started to make for the palm scanner.

"Sure," she called after him. "He can feed the things. Get them to shut up for another two minutes."

He cast a look over his shoulder. "Don't bother working on the puppy dog face, Magoo," he called. "Doesn't work on me."

Trudy was already over looking down at where Eth was sitting. "We'll teach you the puppy dog sell instead," he heard her tell his boy.

Voight shook his head, as he scanned in. There was no way he was walking out of there with a dog. Forget it. But as he gave a final glance as the door swung shut, he could again see his boy glowing as the puppy lapped excitedly at his face.