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 peeked into Ethan's bedroom as he got up the stairs but through the dim light could see the bare mattress on the bottom bunk. He turned and gazed at Erin's door for a moment – deciding whether or not to intrude.
It was funny. When his kids were still kids – he'd always check on them when he came upstairs. Did it right up until they'd finished off high school and flew the coop. There'd been periods where he was working so late, peeking into their rooms - or going and giving them a shoulder squeeze and exchanging a few words if they stirred awake – was about the only interaction he got with them. It'd been something he valued.
Voight didn't think he realized how much he valued it – not just for the kids but for his own sanity and stability – until Ethan had come home that summer. He'd had nearly two years of his older kids out of the home and his youngest shipped off to boarding school that he hadn't made a habit of checking in anymore. He didn't even make a habit of coming home anymore for a lot of it. He didn't have to be home. There wasn't a reason to be there. And being there alone wasn't always the best for him.
Ethan back in the house started the habit again. He hadn't even fully realized he was doing it at first but it'd quickly become part of the nighttime ritual again. Now with Ethan's health, he'd usually end up looking into the room about three times over the course of the evening. Rather than just calling up the stairs that it was lights out, he usually went up to make sure Ethan was settled and warm and comfortable – that any pain was controlled enough that his boy could get some shuteye. He'd usually end up there again around 11 or so to make sure he had fallen asleep and then would look it again when he passed by to hit his own rack.
It was weird the sense of stability and purpose kids could give you. But he liked having a reason to be home again.
It was different if Erin had him in her room, though. She was an adult now. Just barging in wasn't exact coth. Still, he tapped his knuckles lightly on the door as some sort of warning that if they were both sleeping, they weren't likely to hear. It wasn't like he was going to be walking in on anything, though. Halstead was downstairs. So he twisted the knob, leaving the door open a crack to let the light from the hallway stream in enough so he could see.
Erin stirred a bit in her sleep and lifted her head, squinting at the door – likely trying to decide if it was him or Halstead.
"It's me," he muttered and moved in a bit closer to the side of bed his son was sleeping on. Erin muttered something inteligible and rubbed sleepily at her eyes. "Just checking," Voight added. "He wasn't in his room."
She mumbled something else and then managed to get out. "He wet the bed. I couldn't find the sheets."
"Yeah," Voight acknowledged, setting the now squirming puppy down next to his son and reaching to feel his boy's forehead. "I got behind on laundry this week."
He didn't think there were any twin-sized sheets left unless Erin had stripped the top bunk and moved them down to the bottom for Ethan. It'd probably be easiest to get his son a double bed at that point for a lot of reasons but the boys' room was so cramped that the bed would take up most of the space and his youngest seemed pretty attached to the bunks still. He supposed there might reach a point he'd switch his boy over to Erin's room to give him a bit more space. Not yet, though. Maybe when he started high school. See where they were all at then. Maybe he'd still be wanting the bigger room for company and grandchildren rather than moving his youngest in.
Erin clearly misunderstood the statement, though, and mumbled again, "Yeah. I put them in the wash." She stirred a bit more. "I should go move them to the dryer."
Hank reached and put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place. "Go back to sleep," he told her gently.
The puppy followed his hand though and nipped at her hair, tugging it gently and she reached to bat what she likely thought was Hank's hand away until to smack the dog in the face. It let out a little whimper and she rolled back over and looked apologetically at the puppy.
"I'm sorry," she said and reached for it only to have her eyes open bigger and gaze at Hank with some apprehension at the more awake realization that he was home and he had the dog.
"Go back to sleep," he told her again and reached for the puppy himself, moving it closer to Ethan.
He didn't really want to deal with a damn dog. But it was here now. He wasn't exactly going to tread all over his kid's heart by ripping it away from him. And the reality was that he knew it was going to be rough going when school started back up again after the winter break. His boy was going to need something to pull him through. So maybe he was just going to have to figure out how to manage integrating a dog into their lifestyle too. Maybe it could be something that resembled a companion for his kid until they figured out a way for him to stop being the pity case and have real connections with people.
The puppy seemed happy to be back closer to Ethan and went up to his face, lapping at it until the boy stirred. He tried to bat him away too until he seemed to realize it was the tongue of the dog and opened his eyes a slit and reached for the puppy, pulling it close to his chest. It just made the dog lick more excitedly at his face. Ethan let out a quiet giggle from the tickles of the rough little tongue and squinted against it more.
Hank reached and scratched at the dog's head, trying to calm him down a bit. And Ethan's eyes shifted to the hand.
"Dad?" he muttered sleepily.
Hank nodded but only said, "This guy got a name?"
Ethan's hand joined his in stroking at the puppy, who Hank was thinking might not be going back to sleep now. Should've left him downstairs.
"Bear, I think," Ethan said.
"Mmm," Voight acknowledged the apparent finalist. "Looks like he's goin' to be a bear when he's done growing."
Ethan eyed him. "We can keep him, right, Dad? He can live with us?"
Voight reached and brushed some of Ethan's matted hair away from his forehead. He was sweaty. It could just be a night sweat. His boy got regular fevers in his sleep anymore. If they weren't up changing his sheets because he pissed them without knowing it, they were up changing the sheets because he'd soaked through them in one of these damn sweats. But he should grab the thermometer and check with this fucking pneumonia in him. If the fever had spiked up again, they likely should be headed back into the hospital yet fucking again.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he said. "All of us."
Erin made a quiet sound to that. She'd get a talking to at work – on her break – out of Ethan's earshot. But she likely already knew that. It was pretty much a given. She wasn't stupid – even when she did stupid fucking shit. Though, this stunt might not be that stupid. And, he'd seen it coming anyway. He could've put a stop to it if he really wanted to. But sometimes it wasn't worth it. Let Erin be the hero who got his boy the dog. He'd be the dad who sorted out how they were all going to manage that.
Ethan gazed at him a moment longer but didn't argue. He wasn't so dumb either. And he just went back to looking at the dog, pulling back the skin on its face and scruffing at its ears while the puppy tried to nip at his hands and fingers and wrists in its playful excitement.
"How you feeling?" Hank asked his boy but Ethan just shrugged at him. That was the usual 'not great' answer 'but I'm refusing to admit weakness to you'. "Think you're running a fever?" Another shrug.
"He was earlier," Erin mumbled with her back turned, still trying to drift back to sleep. He doubted she was going to have much luck. "A little one. Lower than what the doctor said to bring him back for."
"I saw Mom again," Ethan admitted quietly. "But I think it was just Erin."
Hank grunted some acknowledgement. "Sometimes she looks a bit like Mom," he allowed.
People said pet owners ended up looking like their pets. Hopefully that wasn't true. But he thought there might be something to adopted kids eventually taking after their adoptive parents. Nurture. They picked up on mannerisms, physical ticks, the habits and the sarcasms. The humor and the morals. To a point.
Voight doubted that Magoo really remembered what his mom looked like anymore. There weren't many pictures out. He didn't like them out. And his mind was so rattled with the brain injury, he wasn't sure how much he remembered about her period. Sometimes he'd say something like the kid was looking into a snowglobe. Could almost make out the whole diorama. But then he'd be missing all these pieces and if you brought up the memory he'd latched on to later that time he wouldn't recall it at all. His hardwiring was just all fucked to hell.
But it wasn't the first time – or the first person – who'd said Erin looked like him or Camille. Truth was that a lot of times Erin got mistaken as his mom more than his sister. Not something Erin had liked much when she was younger and still rubbed her the wrong way now when the mistake got made. Did a bit Voight too. His boy was a piece of Camille. Another thing she'd left for him – and left him responsible for. Constant reminder for his responsibilities and not to have his head shoved too far up his ass.
There were a lot of people who didn't know their family too well, though, when the kids were younger who just made the assumption when she was living with them. Maybe it was the hair. But there were other little pieces of Camille that Voight saw in Erin too. Things she'd picked up from her while she'd been in their care. Sometimes it bothered him. Other times it didn't.
He leaned to the nightstand. "I'm switching on the light," he warned. "I want to take a look at your eyes."
Ethan squinted heavily under the light as it flooded that side of the room and Erin let out another little groan.
"I checked them already," she said. "They're fine."
Voight grunted but still tilted his boy's head at took his own look. The one wasn't doing its cock-eyed thing. They weren't contracting with the light as quickly as they should, though.
"Got any of that pain in them?" he asked.
"No," Ethan muttered and jerked his head away from him, going back to looking at the puppy.
Voight put his thumb under his boy's chin and brought his eyes back to him. Ethan reluctantly stared at him.
"You lying to me?" Voight put to him.
"No," Ethan said a bit more timidly.
Voight weighed the look on his son's face and his body language. "You know when you're having problem with your eyes you got to tell me. Don't matter you don't like getting the IVs. Better than dealing with long-term eye problems, E. You don't want to lose your sight."
"I was just confused," he said timidly. "It was my head not my eyes."
Voight gave a little nod and released his son who immediately went back to gazing at the dog instead of him. Voight's eyes drifted, looking at Erin's trying-to-sleep back. There was no way she was sleeping but she clearly wasn't interested in participating in the conversation or observation. He didn't blame her. He'd woken them. He knew he would but he wanted to check on Magoo.
His eyes drifted again falling onto Ethan's copy of Jurassic Park. They'd worked through a little more of it at the hospital during the day. The plan to get Magoo to read it wasn't going entirely as planned. But at least he was sitting and listening and getting him to be able to sit still and concentration and work on his comprehension was important too. And moreover, it was a distraction for his kid.
He picked it up and paged through it trying to see where Erin had gotten up to with him. Sharing the reading meant that he was missing out on some of the plot. But he could go back and catch up. He was a quick reader.
"You go through some more of this?" Hank muttered at his son.
"Yea," Ethan provided. "And I'm glad you're home. Erin doesn't read good."
"I can hear you," Erin mumbled, still not moving.
"How's Erin not read good?" Voight put to his son – not oblivious to the irony of that statement.
"She sounds like a girl," he said, completely fixated on the puppy.
"You don't say," Erin said, her head shaking just slightly from her sprawled position.
"Yea," Ethan said and flopped over again his sister's back – clearly trying to get a reaction out of her. "And it sounds stupid when reading a dinosaur book."
She just flapped her top arm around and tried to push him away. "Get off me," she said in a slightly more awake voice.
Hank reached over and grabbed his son's shoulder, pulling him to an upright position. "C'mon, leave your sister alone. She's trying to sleep."
Ethan gave a little huff and nudged the puppy her way like the puppy jumping on her was more acceptable but Hank just stood and pulled back the covers.
"C'mon," he ordered again. "Up. We're going to check your temperature and let Erin get some shuteye."
Ethan didn't argue at all. He'd likely decided he was awake and Dad was awake so now he had someone to talk to. They'd see how long that lasted.
"Hank, just leave him," Erin said, turning her head a bit and giving him some side-eye. "You should sleep."
He shook his head as Ethan shuffled out of the bed and pushed himself up on unsteady feet. He gave Erin's hair a small teasing tug and touched her temple.
"Rest," he encouraged and looked back at E. "You need your crutches?"
"No," Ethan said but grabbed for the puppy.
Hank shook his head again and reached to put the novel in his son's hands instead. "Take that," he ordered. "I've got to the dog. Go to my room. I'll be there in a minute."
Ethan started to do his staggered gait toward the door and Hank turned to again clutch the puppy in his arms.
"This thing going to need to eat again tonight?" he put to Erin.
She let out another quiet moan and rubbed at her eyes, rolling onto her back to squint at him, just as he reached to turning the bedside light back off.
"What time is it?" she muttered.
"Pushing three," he told her.
She groaned. "Hank, just leave Ethan and the dog. Sleep."
"The dog need to be fed again or not?" he pressed back at her ignoring her statement. Next lesson with kids – sleepless nights were just a reality. Another thing that only improved so much with their age.
"He should be OK," she muttered. "Likely 'til around six."
Voight gave a little nod. "OK," he allowed. "Want us clearing out of here by 'bout 6:30. Al's gonna drop Michelle off to sit with E in the morning. Gonna send you home in the afternoon to keep an eye on him."
"OK," Erin said sleepily, still rubbing at her eyes. She might not be going back to sleep either.
"You sure he's OK?" he asked.
"Yea," she provided a bit more firmly. "Just one of his episodes. And he's cold and wheezing." She gestured absently at the humidified still misting in the room. He thought for a moment of transferring it but decided to leave it at that point. Like Erin said, he wasn't sure how much E would sleep now. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though. Meant he'd likely sleep through part of the morning, which would make things easy for Michelle.
So he gave a little nod, giving her shoulder another small squeeze and he headed for the door, carrying the pup draped over one arm. He seemed to have calmed a bit in that positioning. He went to the top of the stairs and called down, "Halstead, got that side of the bed vacated."
He left it at that. Wasn't going to call it his side of the bed. Wasn't going to tell the man to go sleep next to his daughter. But – put the option out there. Couch was comfortable but Halstead was fucking tall. That couch wasn't made for tall people. That'd be purposeful when him and Camille had picked it. Keep fucking teenaged boys from sprawling across it and destroying the fucking thing. But he heard the TV flick off even if there wasn't immediate movement to come up the stairs. Guy was likely waiting for him to get out of sight – which was fine.
He moved down the hallway, looking at the pooch. He wondered if Erin realized that she might've struck it rich, if she'd found a guy who was willing to get up to do fucking night feedings of a dog. Likely meant he wouldn't put up a protest about dragging his ass out of bed to deal with feedings of an infant. He was still struggling with wrapping his head around accepting this but forcing himself to acknowledge Erin was an adult and as protective as he wanted to be of her there was only so far he could go before it just pushed her away. Besides, he trusted Halstead to watch her back at work. Trusted him to take care of his daughter when guns were being pulled and bullets were flying and fucking dirtbags were in their midst. If he trusted him with that – he could trust him with making sure she was happy? Giving her a family? Taking care of any grandkids that got produced out of that relationship? Somehow that seemed like a much more important role and bigger trust to place in him. Happiness and family were challenging responsibilities to take on.
He grabbed the thermometer out of the bathroom and entered his bedroom to find Ethan already propped up in the bed, looking at the pages of the Jurassic Park book like he was actually reading it.
"Get under the covers," he told his son, plopping the puppy down next to him and handing him the thermometer. "And stick that thing in your ear."
He watched Ethan for a moment but when it was clear he was listening, he turned and unbuttoned the sleeves on his shirt – pulling the rest of the thing over his head. He was too fucking beat to bother with the rest of the buttons. He tossed it in the general direction of the hamper. It missed. He left it and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his fly and pushed down his jeans and shucked off his socks. He padded to the bed in just his tshirt and shorts and got in.
He'd barely settled when Ethan scooted over and pressed up against him. E had always been a bit of a cuddler. A mama's boy. The baby in the house. He wasn't shy with looking for affection from his mom as a little boy and he'd transferred most of that to Erin. He'd seek out affection from her a lot. He'd look for some from his dad but not as much. Like he was afraid of him. But that had changed since the M.S. had been added to his list of challenges. When he thought no one was looking, he'd seek out the affection just as much from Voight as he would his sister.
Hank didn't mind. For all the things he'd done wrong with his kids – he'd never withheld affection. Kids needed hugs. Both of his sons had got them growing up – even if J was selective about his memory about how frequent they'd been. Truth was J stopped wanting hugs long before Voight was ready to stop giving them. But maybe that's how he'd raised him. Boys. He'd taken a different approach with Justin. He'd learned from his mistakes and also had been forced to make adjustments with Ethan.
He wasn't going to go out and publicize it – but having Ethan back home and getting that affection counted for a lot. It was another thing on the list of things he hadn't realized how much he'd missed until it was back in his life and he had time to reflect on it. Sometimes when his boy came looking for those hugs or bits of affection, he felt like Ethan had been some sort of purposeful gift Camille had left him. This piece of her to cling to. A reason and an excuse to be softer. And, as much as he knew that he needed E away to be able to establish Intelligence and that his position in Intelligence was now giving him the leeway to care for his family the way he needed to, it made him regret even more only getting crumbs of those two years of his childhood.
He wrapped his arm around his son and was immediately struck by how soaked his boy's sleep shirt was.
"Take that off," he said, pulling away from his boy a bit and tugging at the neck fo the shirt.
Ethan looked at him but then awkwardly pulled the shirt off while Hank pulled his own tshirt over his head and then scrunched it up to get the neck and arms over his son's extremities. He grabbed the boy's discarded shirt and tossed it to the hamper. It managed to land inside. He reached and took the thermometer from E, examining the numbers. Erin was right. It was barely a fever. Just another night sweat leaving his kid soaking wet.
Ethan flopped back against him. "Your shirt smells," he said.
"You saying I stink," Hank muttered at him as he put the thermometer on the nightstand and again wrapping his arm around his son.
"Your shirt does," Ethan told him.
Hank just let out a grunt at that, as his son settled against his bare chest and again went back to petting at the puppy as the thing showed some interest in climbing up into Hank's lap. And little interest in sleeping.
"You think the name 'Bear' is good, Dad?" Ethan asked in his continued examination of the dog.
"I think the person who names him is gonna have to take a lot of responsibility for him," Hank said.
Ethan looked up at him with big eyes. "Does that mean we are keeping him?"
"It means the three of us are going to be having a real long talk on the weekend," Voight said.
E examined him, weighing the comment. "But we're going ice fishing this weekend," he provided quietly.
Hank shook his head. "You've got pneumonia, Magoo. We aren't going and sitting in the cold."
"So when are we going to go?" Ethan whined at him.
Hank shrugged. "Don't know. When you're feeling better."
His head flopped against him. "When will that be?" he said dejectedly.
Voight gripped at his shoulder. "Doc said those antibiotics are going to start making you feel a lot better in the next day or two but you're body is going to take two or three weeks to bounce back."
Ethan let out a little sigh. "Can we at least go see the fireworks tomorrow?"
"No," Hank said firmly but held his boy tight. "We're keeping you warm and we're resting up."
"So we're doing nothing?" Ethan lamented.
"We're eating some dinner and watching some TV," Hank said.
Ethan sunk against him. "Game of Thrones?" he asked cautiously.
"I don't think so. You're gonna hafta pick something else."
Ethan sighed again and looked up at him. "Does this mean I'm not allowed to do anything next week too?"
Voight shrugged. "We'll see how you're doing."
"But Jay is supposed to take me to a movie and to laser tag," he said.
"Maybe a movie," Voight agreed. "Don't think you're near well enough to be doing any laser tag right now either, Magoo. That's going to have to wait a couple weeks too."
"Are you at least taking some time off?" Ethan whined.
Hank flared his nostrils. "Eth, I took lots of time off in December."
"Not real time off. Hospital time off," he looked at him with puppy dog eyes.
Hank pulled him tighter and put his lips against the crown of his head. "We'll see, Magoo," he assured. "I'll see what he can do."
Always this fucking balance. Or maybe it was more like a Jenga tower. Needed to keep trying to build the family up before something came along that made them all topple down. Harder that it looked.
AUTHOR NOTE: Please review. Hope you have a great holidays. I'm sort of running out of ideas on where to go in terms of scenes in this particular sequence around New Year's and Ethan's winter break. If you have ideas, let me know. Otherwise, I might sort of move on to other things/scenes.