Title: So It Goes
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: Hank Voight and his family try to cope with their struggles at home and work — and the dynamics those conflicting circumstances creat for their blended family in a time of transition. The series focuses on Voight, his sick and disabled son — and what's left of his family and their strained relationships, particularly that with Erin Lindsay and Jay Halstead as they work at establishing their own lives as a young couple.
This is a collection of one-shots/scenes using the characters as represented in the AU established in Interesting Dynamics. The chapters currently represent scenes happening in approximately S04 of the series or early 2017.
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 is not a linear narrative with a beginning-middle-end. It's just scenes. It is generally set so it begins around the mid-point of Season 4 (or about January/February 2017) and may occasionally draw reference to (and have SPOILERS) from the series.
A notification is provided at the beginning of each chapter about where it happens in relation to the other chapters, if they are out of sequence. Chapters will be re-ordered semi-regularly (i.e. if you're reading this weeks or months after the chapter was originally posted, it's likely now in the right place, so just ignore the notification).
SPOILER ALERT: There are MAJOR spoilers in this collection from Interesting Dynamics, So This is Christmas, Scenes and Aftermath. This series also contains SPOILERS related to the finale of Season 3 of Chicago PD and will have occasionally spoilers from Season 4 of the show.
THIS CHAPTER GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 26 — THE BRIDGE. They will be reordered eventually.
Hank glanced up from his pulp fiction that he'd shoved in his back pocket to keep him company while Magoo was in his interview. Had decided with the kinds of cases and kinds of bullshit getting thrown at him lately, he was entitled to unplugging for the afternoon. Part of him had felt that urge to really buckle down. To make some amends. Fix some past wrongs. Be the cop that he knew he was that no one wanted to acknowledge him as because the fucking Brass always had an opinion about the way he worked and how he did his job. Fucking guys in white shirts up in the Ivory Tower who'd let themselves forget what it was like to actually do the job. Or had never really had to do the job the way it was done in the first place.
Reality was, though, that he'd kind of felt like it wasn't just his badge or his integrity that they'd come blaring for that time. Had really felt like they were taking a pass at the kind of person he was in a way that would have implications for his family. A swipe at his kids. And that just wasn't going to stand either. Because shit like this just … it all went back to his family. And he wasn't going to let anything happen – or anyone make some sort of statements – that was going to have a trickle effect in getting to his boy and affecting the way his kid looked at him. Or worse – fucking dragging him away from his youngest. His son needed him. And he didn't like his job, his badge or his reputation being dangled around like some kind of play thing. He gave too much of himself to this city for them to do that. His whole family had.
Too much. So he'd taken a step back. These past few days. Seemed like CPD was just working more and more to bench him. Put him into a corner and slap cuffs on him that made it harder and harder to do his job on the job. So if they were going to do that he might as well be putting in some time on his other job. His real job.
They wanted him off the scene – then he'd take a personal. A few hours. An afternoon. Be there for his boy on his big interview – even if it was only to play taxi service. Though from the look of his kid walking back over to where he was sitting, he was going to need to be a bit more than that. Fucking lead cheerleader on the pep squad. Didn't look like things went so hot in there.
He closed his book and watched E's trek over. Kid looked near tears. Had a huge with him. Bringing him back out and through the maze down on the level of the museum with all the educational resource rooms and lecture halls and administrative offices. Had spent a lot of time in Field over the years and hadn't ever been down in that area before. Taken a while to find where they were going. That had gotten Magoo all agitated when the kid was all nerves enough about this whole thing. But if this gig was about communication skills, the museum sure hadn't exhibited the greatest in describing where they needed to get to in the confirmation email.
Though, got the sense it might've been a bit of a test. Had to go and ask at the desk, which Magoo had been awful timid about. Ended up having to be him who'd gone over and gotten given the directions. Things were marked clearly enough when they did get downstairs. Had one of the interviewers out waiting for E's arrival in the little area they had set up presumably for the parents. Though, hadn't been anyone else occupying the space. So Hank wasn't sure if the rest of the kids weren't getting a lift to this gig or the parents had stayed upstairs or they'd just staggered the interviews enough that the kids weren't having to cross paths with each other too much.
Thought fourteen was a little young to be having a first job-type interview. But shouldn't talk too much. He'd started working when he was fifteen. First real job. Had done a whole lot of running errands at the Social Club for his dad and the guys there long before that. But snagging his first gig hadn't been much of an interview. More like them asking if he knew how to push a mop and them letting him know he'd be out on his ass real quick if he didn't show some initiative and work ethic. Make sure the job got done right.
Things had changed a lot since then, though. Not the same world. At all.
Kids didn't just do little interviews to get their after-school and summer jobs handing out fries, scooping ice cream, stocking shelves, pumping gas or handing out change at a cash register anymore. All these fucking interviews for them to get into private schools. These fucking intent letters and length applications and personal essays for volunteer programs and internships and co-ops and summer camps. Barely let kids be kids anymore it seemed. No wonder there were all these teens and twenty-year-olds just fucking fried and burned out before they even managed to finish college. Even worse when they hit the real world and realized all these fucking "opportunities" they poured their hearts out for as little kids didn't give them much real life experience to get any sort of related job in the real world. Instead they were having to learn at 18, 19, 20, 21 … 25 fucking years old how to do an interview to hand out fries, scoop ice cream, shock shelves all night or man a cash register. Or hand a fucking ATM console over to a costume. Wasn't much need for a gas attendant anymore.
Didn't believe life was fair. But all the stress and pressure kids got put under anymore wasn't that fair. And was just so fucking unrealistic because he really couldn't imagine what these interviews asked the kids that cast any sort of real perspective on the kind of kid was – or the kind of candidate or asset the kid would be. Reality was anything the kid handed in on an application form was likely monitored – if not out-right done – by the parents. It was more their answers – and the image they wanted to project of their kid.
And as for any questions the asked the little darlings in the room? Fourteen-year-old kids were only so articulate. Even the most precocious of them. And didn't matter what bullshit the kids spouted off about the why they wanted the gig or what they thought they were going to be when they grew up or how this would get them some slot in whatever program that their parents were already working at padding their college application for. All of that was more fantasy than what most kids' futures were going to look like. Dream big. But dreams were dreams. And the bigger they were the less reality was likely to look like them.
Though, that hadn't really stopped him from feeling pride at E getting the interview. Hadn't stopped him from letting him apply. And didn't mean that he didn't have hopes that this Bridge program would lead to his kid getting to his kid getting into the teen volunteer program and that that would open up some doors for employment or internships. Or that it'd spark some interest and get some ideas for him about what to pursue at college and put him in good stead when he was making those kinds of applications. Didn't mean he shut down his kid's dreams about being a paleontologist or an archeologist or a marine biologist like his mom. Just like he didn't shoot holes in E's hopes that he might end up working in Forensics or in the Marine Unit or even as a data analyst and tech guy for Intelligence some day. He just tried to encourage him. Hopefully and honestly. And he hoped most parents came from that standpoint. Thing was he'd spent enough years having to rub elbows with the likes of the parents at Ignatius and he knew that that wasn't always where people were coming from. Some people just had Trophy Kids. Didn't matter if it was sports or academics. They were just coming at it from all the wrong places. And they pushed, pushed, pushed until their kid either had a mental or emotional breakdown or they had a fucking entitled, spoiled brat on their hands who graduated into a fucking entitled, spoiled adult who wasn't good for anything much.
Still, he'd really just hoped that this thing would give his son a place. Some purpose. A bit of stability. Some friends. A support network of kids and adults that went beyond what he had at home or at RIC. Because E really needed that. Wasn't really getting that at Ignatius. And really wasn't feeling like it was going to be much better when he hit high school. But could still hope. Maybe it would after the kids got to stream more into their interests and electives. When they found what they excelled at and got a bit more of a sense of what they were actually interested and what they might want to do with their lives. He'd known by fourteen. Hell, he'd likely known from about the day he'd clued into his pop being a cop. Knew Erin had known by about sixteen.
But Camille hadn't in high school. Or she had thought she'd known but things hadn't really worked out the way she thought they would when she was a fifteen-, sixteen-, seventeen-year-old kid mapping out the rest of her life. She'd tried to make it work. She was the one who'd gone off to college. Thought she was going to be a vet. Even got all declared as being a pre-vet medicine student. But, for all his wife's smarts, competition was steep to get into the actual vet program. Hadn't made it through the fucking extended application and interview process. The kind that used to be reserved for that kind of stuff. Doctors, lawyers, fancy schools and fancy programs. Not Grade Eight kids who wanted to volunteer at the fucking museum in high school.
Cami had been upset at the time. Real upset. Wasn't like she'd had a coddled life but she hadn't had too many hard-knocks up until that point. Just the typical kid stuff. Growing up in Chicago stuff. In their neighborhood stuff. Nothing too traumatizing. And hadn't had many brushes with failure. At least academically. Always a bit of a shining light there. Star pupil in high school. Nice little Catholic school girl. Good little Italian family. Father with some prominence in the neighborhood. And it had seemed like she'd sailed through her pre-vet program pretty easily. Worked her ass off. Always studying. But that was Camille too. But hadn't been enough to get her onto the path she'd thought she wanted.
Hank would admit that maybe at the time he'd been a bit too happy about that. Hadn't really been looking forward to her being down in Champaign for however-many-fucking years becoming Dr. Doolittle. He'd struggled enough with trying to figure out where he fit in – his own fucking inferiority complex and chip on his shoulder – while she was working to get her undergrad. Really hadn't been that supportive back then. Been a bit of an ass. No wonder she benched his ass for a while and they took some breaks in that period.
Figured that break would likely have been permanent if she'd gone down to Urbana-Champaign. Or it would've ended soon after. That maybe it'd be some fun for a while. Excuse for him to get out of the city for a while. Take his bike down. Nice enough ride. Take her for a whip around. Have a bit of a bed-in if he could pull her away from the books. Which would've been a fucking task because she would've been hitting them even harder than she had working on her Bachelors.
Always a bit of a frustration back then when he was young and stupid and had his head up his ass. Seemed more interested in her studies – fucking books – than she did him half the time. Hitting them harder than she ever did him. Took him way too long to figure out that education – that was her way of bettering herself, bettering her placement in the world, bettering her life and those around her, and how she wanted to make things better for her any family or kids she had of her own. How she was going to try to be better than that fucking grey-collar Italian stereotype she'd grown up in the Village – even though her folks were good hardworking people. They were simple people. A fucking grease monkey as a dad and her mom putting in her hours in behind the counter at one of the neighborhood bakery and delicatessens. Cami wanted more for herself and more for her kids.
It was funny. But Hank could still pinpoint all these kinds of marker posts in their relationship. Turning points. Supposed that happened when you knew someone that long. Your whole life. You'd think that maybe it'd all sort of blend together into a mess. But it didn't. Or maybe you just dissected it all a bit more after they were gone. As you went over and over all those years trying to hold onto the memories. And you forced some to come to the surface and stick with you. Clung to them. Analyzed them.
And when you have a relationship like that with someone. When you've had a fucking twenty-six year marriage. With a person you'd been with in some capacity since you were fourteen years old. A girl you knew before you even knew what you did with your dick. A girl you'd grown up with. Who you'd known since kindergarten. It irked you more than a little when someone started suggesting you were chasing tail of someone twenty-years your junior. Some woman your daughter's age. And that a girl that young could take you to church in any way. Help you find your salvation.
Cami was his salvation. Made him human in more ways than one. Made him a better man. Helped him transition from a boy to a man. And kept him there. On the right track. Living up to his responsibilities. Constantly making sure he knew them. And he appreciated all the privileges that came with them. Having her in his life. Having his kids. Having a home to go home to. A family to love and love him back.
She had always been his better half. Even, though, they'd always been a bit of a team. Through good and through bad. And now the only redemption he needed – he'd find it in his kids. Their kids. The ones at home and the ones on the job. And his grandson. Through doing right by them. Making sure he was putting good people out into the world and the city and onto the job. That's the only redemption he needed. The only salvation. Doing right by his wife.
So he knew their milestones. He knew how they applied to their lives. As a couple and as a family. To her life. And to his. And her not getting into the vet program had been one of those markers. They hadn't really been together then. Depending on how you fucking defined together. Because looking back now, Hank knew that even in those "break" periods they hadn't exactly split up. And even in periods they hadn't exactly been a declared couple, they might as well as been. But Hank didn't know that him or Camille were much for declaring much of anything. Was what it was. That was something they could see eye-to-eye on.
That period, though, he'd say they were more friends than a couple. Even though he thought they'd both about reached the point that they realized – accepted – they were going to just be making their way through life together. Witnessing the life for each other. They just hadn't really made a move to shift back to much of anything beyond friends and occasional friends with benefits at that point, though. They were still on their "break".
But it'd been him she'd come to when she got the news she hadn't gotten in. Hadn't been her parents she'd told first. She'd been scared to tell them. That her father would be so disappointed in her. That her parents had worked so hard to be able to help her pay for her degree and that she'd somehow failed by just walking away with a Bachelor of Science and no ticket to vet doctor school. She'd really just been devastated. All those teen-aged plans and little kid dreams had gone floating out the window and she was confused. Anxious.
Hank knew there were lots of times he'd been there for Cami in different ways before that moment – that conversation. But it stood out. Stood out as about the first real time that he'd had to step up and be there for her – as a friend, and as a man. Support her and listen and try to take care of her in a way she'd done back when they were fifteen and he'd been a fucking mess after his dad ended his watch. He'd done a good job at pushing people away and putting up walls and creating a whole lot of animosity back then. But Camille had seen through it and stuck by him and she was about the only person he'd felt like he could talk to and be with at the time. To be himself with rather than what he felt like he had to be then.
Taken a lot of talking – and a new and different kind of support, a lot of checking himself and adjusting his mindset – but they'd come to a decision, together, that she still was going to go after her Masters. Had even talked around it all enough that they'd managed to convince themselves – and Camille – that maybe veterinary medicine wasn't the best fit for her overall. Maybe it never really was. It'd just been a little girl dream of fluffy rabbits and bunnies and ponies. Not entirely reflective of what the actual job might entail or how her personality fit in all of that or what she wanted to be doing with her life.
So Zoology. That's what she put in for to get her Masters. Hank didn't know what the fuck she expected to do with that. Figured she'd end up shoveling rhino dung up at the Lincoln Park Zoo or something. But also figured they'd bought themselves two years to figure it out. Together. And by the time she'd be coming up on finishing her degree, he'd have put some time in his boots. Would've been able to support her – both of them – while they sorted out whatever the fucking job prospects were of a zoologist in Chicago.
Been funny, though. Because for all the fucking planning she'd done as a kid. All the fucking talk they had in figuring out her track for her schooling, it hadn't been until into the midst of it – doing her fucking post-grad – what she actually wanted to do with all that research and schooling and knowledge she had in that head of hers. And it'd been fishing. Fucking researching and analyzing and cataloguing and observing fish. All fucking day.
Ichthyology. Who fucking knows that word as a kid? Unless you're the kid of an ichthyologist. Because Hank was pretty sure E had known how to say that word by the time he was about two years old and had known exactly what it fucking was too. But Cami – even for all her fucking books – hadn't known it. Hadn't known there was a job in it. And for that pretty little tomboy that Hank knew you could always find all summer sitting at a fishing reservoir or on a pier at the lake with her line in the water and her nose in a book – if it wasn't a fucking illustrated species encyclopedia, it was Nancy Drew or some musty, old hardcover classic that she'd turned in her nickels and dimes for at the used book store that you were just as likely to find her in as down by the water or under a tree in the park. And, the program, the specialty, the job. It'd been a perfect fit.
But the point was it just wasn't something she'd figured out until she was about twenty-two years old. None of it. And there was nothing the matter with that. It'd fucking worked out. Real well. Cami loved her job. And she'd shared that love with the whole family. Lots of family memories grew out of it. Still did – because her little boy was a bit of an ichthyologist in his own right too.
And it was the same with J. Same but different. Because he never had a fucking clue. Or just didn't fucking care. Had all these fucking technical aptitudes and science know-how that he must've inherited from his mom too but was such a lazy fucking ass. Didn't want to do anything ever but try to run game with another one of his big ideas that was always just a way to throw money away. Get rich quick schemes that he couldn't fucking grasp didn't exist. Wasn't until he had a child on the way that he started to put some real thought into what he wanted to do with his life. Put some real fucking reflection in on what he was good at and interested it. And Signal Corps. Engineering. They'd basically ended up right back at what they'd told him he should start thinking about in high school but he'd had on his fucking earmuffs when they were talking to him. Took the military to teach him some real discipline and a little boy on the way to get him some direction. But, Hank knew sometimes that was how it went. With a lot of guys. At least he'd figured it out.
So E would too. Eventually. Or maybe he already had. And they just needed to get him to that eventually. And that's where this came in. Or at least he had hoped it would. Not so sure that would be the way it worked out now.
The guy that came out with E was different than the woman who'd been waiting for them downstairs. This joker gave him a thin smile like they knew each other. Hank just smacked, though. Didn't know this guy from Adam. But he stood up.
"Hank Voight?" the guy asked. He grunted. The guy stuck out his hand. Hank looked at it for a second but took it. Not sure where this was going unless those glassy eyes on his boy were happy tears. But the kid sure didn't look too happy. "I'm Kevin. Tagish. I worked with Camille. Years ago."
Hank grunted. Knew the name. Knew there was a guy who knew Camille at the museum. Erin had some kind of interaction with him before. But hadn't ever met him. Didn't know the face.
Gave the hand a shake and released it.
"So, I was telling Ethan that it's likely going to be about two weeks before we let people know if they've been selected for the program," Tagish said.
Hank just grunted again and kept his eyes on his son. E looked pretty defeated. That hurt a bit. Didn't like E feeling that way. But having to go through those sorts of experiences was part of life. Failure was a way of learning. But also shouldn't be counting chickens before they hatched or making wild speculations about any sort of outcome.
Tagish gave the kid a look too, clearly measuring up how he was doing. But was gentle about it. Least the guy had clued in that the kid was struggling with composure a bit. But was sure a lot of the kids walking out of the interview felt that way. Sure most kids would after any first interview experience. But this sort of thing was likely old hat for some of the kids who'd be waltzing through. Not for Magoo, though.
Tagish's eyes shifted back to Hank. "Ethan told us that he's going to be doing summer school this year."
"Yea," Hank allowed.
"He wasn't sure of the dates?" Tagish put to him.
"Mmm …," Hank grunted. "July fifth through to the twenty-eighth."
Tagish nodded and keyed something into his phone. E just slouched down even more.
"That a problem?" Hank put directly.
Tagish gave his head a small shake. "I don't think so. But I did want to make sure Ethan would be available for the four-day training weekend in June? The twenty-second to the twenty-sixth?"
Hank gave a shrug. "Sure," he allowed.
"That's tournament weekend," E said quietly. "The one here. That CPD's sponsoring. Playing."
Hank gave him a smack. Shooting himself in his own foot sharing that tidbit. "Then I guess if you get offered a spot, you'll have to make some choices."
E gave him even more watery eyes. So Hank just put his own eyes back on Tagish. "Will get talked about when get home," he put flatly. "Won't be a problem. He'll be available."
Not the best for being a team player. But this was about looking at the long term. And reality was with the RIC Cubs, there were lots of games and tournaments that kids ended up missing in a season for all kinds of reasons ranging from health to timing to working around booked summer vacations and parents who's jobs didn't let them drive the kid to the next city or state for a tournament weekend. Not much of an excuse when the tournament was in Chicago. But lots of kids missed home games too. And, really, there'd be games in the evening that Magoo could likely show up at. Whether they'd let him play was another story. But benched or not – showing up was part of being a team player too.
Tagish gave him this thin smile. Seemed to be some understanding behind it. So maybe the guy had kids too and had to juggle all this crap. Or maybe he just had a soft spot for Camille – because she was good at earning that with men and she'd worked with a whole lot of pretty stereotypical lab geek guys who developed a bit crush on her over the years. Wouldn't be surprised if this guy had been on that list. Though, he had a wedding band on now. So he was another glowing endorsement that even the slightly odd, science guys could actually find someone. Still lots of hope for Magoo to find his Cami some day.
"I also just wanted to make sure that both you and Ethan understand that as part of Bridge, we require that our participants put in at least forty hours shadowing our current volunteers. It can take place from June first until the Sunday before the program starts. But if it hasn't been completed, we may not allow the student to participate in induction week."
Hank grunted. "Yea, saw that in the program materials. It's understood."
"OK," Tagish nodded. "I just wanted to make sure you're really aware that we only let our Bridge participants volunteer on Thursdays through Sundays and only from noon through four. So, I'm not sure what your family plans are over the summer or how Ethan's summer school and baseball schedule might affect this, but it might mean that he's having to come in … say every Saturday to make sure he gets his hours in."
Hank grunted. "We'll make it work," he provided.
Tagish gave him too much of a sympathetic smile at that. Which made Hank want to give him a bit of a shake. But also knew that figuring out that requirement would likely be a pain in the ass.
It was doable but would mean some sacrifices that summer. E might have to miss some games. Might end up opting out of some of the away weekends with the Cubs. Likely mean that they wouldn't be able to go too far afield with camping or fishing. Just a day trip or two. Not likely an overnight.
But if he got offered a spot, they'd have to look at the big picture. This could lead to opportunities for E throughout high school – and beyond. Losing out on part of the summer might be worth it. Really worth it.
But at the same time, he knew E was going to be needing a whole lot of distraction that summer and things to look forward to. Away games with the Cubs. Tournament weekends. Some camping and fishing trips. Afternoon game at Wrigley's. Wasn't sure how getting to volunteer at Field would stack up against all that in terms of things to distract and excite his kid about summer – and the anniversary they needed to get through.
Guy just made another little note on his phone, though, and looked back to him one more time and then looked at E.
"Well, Ethan, I know interviews can be a little nerve-wrecking," he told the glass-eyed boy. "But I think it likely went a whole lot better than you think, and whatever happens, I'm going to be looking forward to seeing you at Fish Unleashed. I think we're going to have a lot of fun at that camp this year."
"Yea …," Ethan said way too weakly.
Tagish gave him that same wishy-washy smile and shifted his eyes to Hank. "So, it was nice to meet you, Hank. We'll be in touch."
Hank grunted and held out his hand for a better shake that time. The guy returned it. But then retreated, going back to looking at his phone. Hopefully not sending out a memo about what a pain in the ass their family was going to be if they took E on in Bridge. E just watched the guy go all glumly.
"So how'd it go?" Hank put to him when Tagish must've been almost out of earshot.
"Bad," Ethan put bluntly.
Hank shrugged. "Don't think it could've gone that bad for him to be coming out and checking in on all that."
"He was only checking cuz I didn't know the answers," E said.
"Well, Ethan, the answers to any of those questions are you'd make it work. Plain and simple."
"But ball …," E sputtered.
"You've got lots of practices and games on weeknights. Have a lot of games on Saturday mornings. We'd get it worked out," Hank nodded at him.
E sighed and gazed at the floor.
"Ethan, sometimes in life you've got to make some hard choices and sacrifices. You need to look at the big picture. Ball is ball. Know it means a lot to you. But this is a real opportunity for you. For your future. Not going to let you just pass that up to make sure you don't miss out on some innings. You'd be missing out on a whole lot more if you said no to this," Hank rasped.
E let out a slow breath and looked at him but just shrugged. "It doesn't even matter. Cuz I'm not going to get it anyway."
"Can't be thinking like that or talking like that," Hank put to him.
"I can when it's true," Ethan argued. "You weren't in there. It went real bad."
Hank smacked and gestured down the hall Tagish had disappeared down. "He didn't seem to think so."
E huffed and started to move. "Can we just go home now," he muttered.
Hank smacked but followed after him. Kid was headed for the stairs – not the elevator they came down. Never one to take the easy path. But the kid didn't realize that that kind of perseverance was what got him this far in life. It'd be what got him a whole lot farther too. One of his best qualities. One of the things that people who took the time to get to know him – and all he'd been through – always noticed. And that kind of stubbornness and attitude – it counted for a fucking lot. It got you places. It'd get him places that E didn't even realize yet.
And Hank hoped that that shone through to the people in that interview too. That they could see it. That it'd count for more than any of the nerves or anxiety or flubbed questions or deer-in-headlights look E gave them if he hadn't been motor-mouthing without a filter in there. That they'd look beyond the hectic schedule the kid had and the fact that he might be a bit more challenging than some of the little Honors Students they likely had coming through. That they'd see a kid how really wanted this and who'd push through to get it. Who'd be an asset to the museum that summer. Who'd be one through his high school career if they let him. And, who with some help, might end up being a real asset for Field – or Chicago's museums and science and technology community – for years to come. For his lifetime. If given the chance to keep being persistent. Keep pushing through. Even if they had to give him a bit of a jump start to get him started up that hill.
"You're too hard on yourself," Hank told him, as he got in slow step next to his kid. "You, your sister, Justin. Always putting all these expectations on yourself that me and your mom never had for you."
"You pressure me all the time," E grumbled.
Hank shook his head. "E, all I ever ask of you is you try your best and you put your best foot forward. You do that and we're good."
That got a look. His kids never wanted to believe him when he told them that. He got the same look for Erin. And from Justin. Like he always asked too much of them or expected too much of them. But all he hoped for was that he was helping mould some good people. Some decent, functional adults. Contributing members of society.
"Want to go pay Sue a visit?" Hank put to him as they got to the top of the stairs.
"Not really," E mumbled.
But Hank reached out and gave the kid's shoulder a squeeze. Held at it until E gave him a look.
"C'mon," he smacked at him. "You don't want to see the bag of bones then I do."
"Dad," he sighed, "I really just want to go home."
Hank gave his head a little shake. "Will in a few minutes," he allowed. "But know we can't set foot in this place without getting a shot of you and Sue."
E's face fell a little more at that. His eyes got that watery look again. And Hank just briefly planted his hand against the top of his boy's head. His thumb running its course up the width of his forehead.
"Know I'm not great about knowing all about this science and biology stuff, Ethan," he said. "But I'm trying. And know too, that for all I don't know about any of it, you've got it in your make-up. Because you've got your mom in you. And she'd be so excited and so proud you're here at this interview today. She wouldn't care if you got it or not. And, you know, whatever the outcome is – she'd be telling you that this interview and this program – doesn't define your life. And it doesn't define your path. You still got lots of time go find your way and make whatever route changes you need to in it all while on the course."
Kid just looked away from him. All waterworks. And Hank stroked his thumb on his forehead one last time and gave his shoulder another squeeze and shake.
"C'mon," he told him again. "Know too your mom would be real pissed if we didn't get that shot of the bag of bones. Tradition."
One worth keeping. Another way to just mark off the sign posts of their life. To keep collecting them for Cami. And to hoard them away to hopefully give his boy some direction later. Now. Whenever he needed them.
AUTHOR NOTE:
A chapter was posted less than 24-hours ago. The chapter immediately before this — Dual Suspension. Please make sure you didn't miss it.
The next chapter will likely be an Erin/Ethan maybe with a bit of Jay. Or it might be structured as an Erin/Ethan/Hank. Haven't decided yet.
Have a nice cluster of chapters and scenes I want to get out before wrapping Florida. Though, I did try to give some Harry Potter glimpses in the Ethan POV chapter.
Your readership, reviews, comments and feedback are appreciated.
