Title: Interesting Dynamics

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 and Erin are forced to re-explore their complicated 'family' dynamic when an unexpected 'family emergency' causes Voight to have to deal with demons related to his wife's death, his failings in parenting, and the challenges his work has created for his family and for his ability to be the father he wants to see himself as.

Hank put his hand on Ethan's head as he guided him into Mouse's little back lair. Ethan seemed kind of unsure about it –but they'd come in the back door to get there and it wasn't a door he usually took his boy through. The way the kid was looking around it was clear he definitely got that only certain people came in the door for certain reasons. Lucky for him the only reason that day was that it was the door closest to the communications and tech lab. And, it was an easy way to get Ethan into the building without drawing a whole lot of attention to the fact he was there.

Mouse gazed up at him from behind the counter as they entered and then his eyes shifted slightly to take in Ethan. Hank watched his eyes, seeing a flicker there as he took in his son's visible injuries. The acknowledgement that Mouse had likely seen as bad or worse while he was overseas. The way he twitched away from looking at it, just provided another reminder too that the guy likely had similar invisible injuries to his boy too. Weird dude. But he was doing the job. Hank would give him that.

And, really even though he wasn't going to have a heart-to-heart with Mouse and ask him what had happened to him that prompted him to be so skittish that he'd ended up medical discharge. Nor was he going to give him his son's life story. But he did know there was enough similarities in what he saw that Hank thought that Ethan being around a supposedly grown man who was dealing with some of the challenges he was experiencing might be an eye-opener to him. Some sort of hope that he could lead a life. Maybe a little weird one. But Mouse had a life. A job. Co-workers. Some friends. Cashflow. He could make do. That's ultimately what you really wanted for your kids.

"This is my son," Hank rasped at him. "Ethan."

Mouse's eyes shifted back to Ethan a bit. "Hey," he provided.

"Hey," Ethan said quietly.

Hank leaned on the counter and looked down to see what Mouse had been puttering with. Looked like he was troubleshooting some of the wires and bugs. Probably nothing too pressing.

He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out Ethan's phone and set it in front of the boy-man. Mouse gazed at it questioningly for a moment and then looked up at him again.

"Need a favor," Hank said and reached and tapped the phone. "Want you to wipe it clean of all the shit he's got on there. Then I want you to install some tracking nanny software."

"Spyware," Mouse provided with a slight indignation edge to his voice as he cast another look to Ethan. But Ethan was busy examining the floor.

Hank shrugged. "Whatever you want to call it," he said. "After you got that done, you show him just how quickly you can crack into this thing if I don't like anything I'm seeing."

Mouse just gazed at him. But Hank didn't wait for a response of agreement. He nudged Ethan instead, and grabbed an old wooden chair from the corner, setting it in front of the counter instead – more out of the line of sight from the door and out of the way. He nodded at it and his son took a seat.

"No big rush," Hank said. "He'll wait. Bring him and the phone up when you're done. Take your time."

Mouse just looked at him more with some disbelief and a touch of apprehension. But again Hank didn't react to it, just giving his son's shoulder a squeeze.

"See you in a bit," he offered.

Ethan only shrugged and Hank didn't press it. He exited the room – leaving the two of them be. Maybe they'd talk. Maybe they wouldn't. He didn't much care.

"Call up if he's giving you any trouble," Hank told Mouse just as he went around the corner and headed up to his bullpen the back-way.

Erin was already at her desk when he got up there. They all were actually. He wasn't late. But he was late for him – because he was usually always early. First cop in the door. Just the way he was. Always had been. But Ethan tended to slow him down a bit. He'd done a good job at it that morning. Dawdling. Hadn't wanted to come in. Not that he had a choice.

"Erin," Hank called from the side hallway.

She looked up from the file she seemed engaged in – or at least pretending to be engaged in – and he gestured for her to come over. He could see from her eyes that she didn't much want to either. She was annoyed and frustrated with him. But she rarely verbalized that in front of the others. He got the body language, though. Lots. She'd become pretty expert at that. Definitely the kind of thing that only your kids truly perfected but made him feel like he was still dealing with a teenager sometimes.

Still her rose from her desk and took her sweet-ass time sauntering across the room. He just pointed down the hallway and lead the way into the interrogation room, holding the door open for her. She cocked her head at him, giving him an even more unimpressed look but stepped inside and crossed her arms as he closed the door.

Hank just held out his arms at her. She gave him a skeptical look at the start and didn't budge.

"Come here," he said gravelly.

She stared at him a beat longer but then let out a little sigh and stepped forward, letting him wrap his arms around her. He held her in a tight hug for a moment and then rubbed her back a couple times until she relaxed a bit. She wasn't as stiff as a board against him, resisting the peace offering he was providing.

He stepped back from her, holding her at arm's length, keeping his hands planted on her biceps.

"I've got a plan," he assured her.

She made a small noise and looked away – clearly unimpressed.

He gave her a little shake. "Hey," he said gently – but with a firmness – and she glanced back. "I'm getting it all sorted."

"OK, Hank," she shrugged. "Whatever you say."

He sighed and gave her a frown. "I want you to go home tonight and pack some things for the week," he said more gently. "Then come over and we'll talk."

She crossed her arms a bit as she looked at him. "I want to actually talk about this, Hank. To understand what's happening. To be a part of it. To have my voice heard before you're making decisions. I don't want to just be talked at. Told."

He nodded – ever so slightly. "We'll talk," he assured.

She sighed and went back to gazing at a wall. He knew she was weighing if she actually believed him. But let her think on it. He knew that no matter what she believed she'd still show up that night. She always did. She would for Ethan.

"He's downstairs," Hank told her. "Fine. With Mouse."

She rolled her eyes at that and looked at him. "With Mouse?" she said with some clear disapproval.

But he just shrugged at her. "You should go see him, after …" he said and reached to pull open the door, again curling his finger to direct her to follow him.

She let out a disgusted sound at him but did oblige. He lead the way and moved quickly through the bullpen.

"Antonio," he barked and then turned to search to see with Alvin was hiding in the crevices. "Alvin," he ordered more flatly when he spotted him and went into the office. He held the door until the two men and Erin entered, and then shut the door, going to stand at the corner of his desk.

He crossed his arms tightly and examined the three for a moment. Antonio and Erin were all mirroring about the same positioning in the various spots they'd claimed. Alvin had slouched into the chair. This didn't faze him in the least. Very little did.

"Ethan's got a health issue going on," Hank said flatly. "So that means I've got some things outside these doors that need my attention. He's going to need to be making trips into the hospital daily for the next bit.

"So how this is going to work is that I'll take him one day, Erin's going to take him the next," he said and nodded at her. She returned the nod. "

Now I'm working at getting these things scheduled so we get the latest possible slot in the day but we all know dirt-bags don't work on business hours. So if I need to be here, I'll be here. But if my son needs me more – that's where I'm at.

"When I'm not here you two need to make sure the wheels don't fall off this machine," he said, jutting his chin a bit in Alvin and Antonio's directions.

"And, you need to make sure the rest of these jokers," he added, nodding out through the windows where he could see Halstead gazing their way. He let out a little huff at that and shook his head a bit. Guy always wanted to know everything that was going on. Didn't seem he understood what 'need to know' or confidential meant sometimes. He didn't need to know. He already knew enough and he didn't doubt that Erin would be filling him in the rest whether he liked it not.

"Their heads are in the game. They aren't all wrapped up in my family business," Hank added and looked at Erin too. "That goes for you too. When you're here, you're here. If you can't do that—"

"Got it," she said flatly.

He allowed a little nod but he didn't doubt that it was going to be a discussion they'd be having again. Her head needed to be in the fucking game.

He found Antonio's eyes. "Got it?" he put to him.

"Sure, boss," he allowed.

Hank gave a little nod and then gestured at his door. "Go," he said and Antonio immediately popped it open and disappeared out. Erin started to follow but when Alvin went to rise Hank grunted to indicate he should stay and he settled back down. Erin gave him another look at that but pulled the door shut.

Hank went and sat back in his desk, leaning back in his chair. Alvin just looked at him. He wouldn't ask or say anything. That's how their communication worked.

"Lexi end up finding a summer job?" Hank asked.

Alvin made a sound at that and rolled his eyes, moving his toothpick to the opposite side of his mouth. "Does a groupie for her boyfriend's band count?" he asked.

Hank snorted and shook his head, bringing his fingertips together. "Teenaged girls, man," he said.

"Mmm," Alvin acknowledged and shifted his gaze to looking out the window.

Hank let out a slow breath. "Think she'd be interested in making some dough?"

Alvin's eyes shifted back. "Ethan?" he asked flatly.

Hank shrugged. "I can't have him sitting around alone all day right now. And him in here?" He snorted and shook his head looking out the window.

"Camp not going to work out?" Alvin asked flatly.

Hank scrubbed at his face. "Don't know. Have to make some calls. Not sure it's a good idea."

"Gonna tell me what they're saying?" Alvin put out there when Hank had kept gazing out the window.

He shifted his chair to face him again. "M.S.," he said evenly and then gestured at his eye. "With optical something-or-other. Lost his peripheral vision."

Alvin just looked at him. He was old school too. He didn't do emotions. Didn't do chit-chat. Didn't need to be girls crying into their pints of ice cream about the woes of their lives. But he could see in Alvin's eyes he got it. They'd known each other long enough. Done the job. Seen the kids grow up. He knew how it was. In his own way. From his own challenges.

"Because of his—" Alvin asked and pointed absently at his own head. Alvin didn't like verbalizing what had happened to Ethan either. Or Camille. They just didn't talk about it. They talked around it.

"Mmm," Hank grunted.

Alvin let out a slow breath, shifting in his seat and shaking his head. "Man …" he allowed quietly.

Hank shrugged. "So they're going to pump some steroids and other shit into him and then … we'll see where we're at."

"How's he taking it?"

Hank let out a rapid exhale. "Ethan … " but he shrugged and shook his head. "He's not all there, Al."

Alvin gave him a sad smile. "He just operates on a different plane, man," he offered.

Hank snorted at that and rubbed at his face again. "More like another fucking dimension," he muttered.

He pulled his hand away from his tired eyes as the door to his office barged open.

"Hey, Sarge," Ruzek said, sticking his head in.

"Do you know how to fucking knock?" Hank demanded.

Ruzek looked at him and then his eyes drifted to see Alvin, who rotated his head back to look at the fucking officer he'd dragged into their unit. As cocky as fuck and still no fucking sense half the time. But somewhere in him was good police if they ever got all his rough edges sanded down.

"Oh, hi, Al," he said. "I thought you were alone."

Hank made an annoyed gesture at him like that didn't answer his original question. Because it didn't. But Ruzek still didn't budge.

"Get out," he put bluntly since he wasn't catching onto the visual cues.

"Oh," Ruzek said and started to retreat, closing the door but then pushed it open again in some kind of after-thought. "Ah, I came in to tell you that that NYPD sergeant … Benson? Is on the line for you."

Hank made a more annoyed sound and looked across his desk at Alvin who just worked at extracting himself out of the chair and moseying to the door.

"Keep me in the loop," he said. "I'll talk to Lexi."

"Mmm…" Hank grunted at him in acknowledgement. Then as Alvin exited, he reached and snatched up the phone, pressing angrily at the flashing light of the held line. "Voight," he barked into it.

This call better not be making his day any shittier than it already was.