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.
**** AUTHOR NOTE WITH SPOILER ALERT: This chapter contains Olivia Benson as she is depicted in my other SVU AU series (Hello Goodbye and Welcome Home). The chapter contains some spoilers related to the Welcome Home story, for readers that may not want to be spoiled. Also, there are some minor spoilers related to Ethan's Robotics Team's efforts. And I suppose possibly for anyone who doesn't know what the plot of next week's crossover episode is going to be. ****
THIS CHAPTER COMES IMMEDIATELY BEFORE HANK AND ETHAN'S ICE FISHING TRIP. It will be moved to reorder in about 24 hours.
Olivia Benson raised her eyebrow as the door swung open – almost violently – and Hank Voight looked at her almost like he was surprised to see her. But she gave him a smile and held up a bottle of red in offering.
"Didn't think you drank this, so thought I should bring my own," she said.
He gave her a thin lips and gestured for her to come in. She stepped into the house a little unsurely. Glancing around the hallway and into the darkened living room. She'd actually thought she might've beat him to the house, it was so dark when she drove up. It didn't look like he had any lights on up front at all. Though he'd switched one on in the hallway when she'd rang the doorbell that she'd heard echoing in the house in long musical notes rather than a simple ring.
"Here. Let me take that for you," he said and did some sort of 'c'mon here' gesture that she assumed meant she could take off her coat. So she did – handing him the bottle of wine first. He examined the label – cradling it in his palm – with the look of a consignor. "Very nice," he rasped and gave her a slightly friendly-look – as friendly as Hank Voight ever managed. "Think I can manage a glass of this," he said, shaking it by its neck at her as he accepted the jacket which he just tossed over the stairs' banister rather than hanging up anywhere – as she bent at her waist to unzip her boots and remove them on the assumption they were to be left at the door too. For quick exit? "Will go good with dinner."
She gave him a thin smile as she straightened. "When you said you'd get me dinner, didn't know this is what you had in mind," she told him.
He just made that grunt that he seemed to think was an effective form of communication. "Wasn't looking at the time. Needed to get home," he said, which seemed to dim the invitation some.
It was a courtesy that had been presented. Maybe she was supposed to take a rain check. Or have joined Fin for the evening, though, he seemed more set on doing something with his night in Chicago than her. She'd been OK with the concept of grabbing a bite to eat and then going back to the hotel to call the kids and Brian. To try to settle her mind from the case – and to take advantage of a night of alone time … quiet time … without it eating her up and sending her mind all sorts of places she didn't want it to go these days. But she'd thought this would be just as good of a distraction. Maybe. She wasn't sure how she felt about Hank Voight's company – especially if it was just the two of them in the house. He wasn't the most chatty or friendly person she'd ever met – even for a male prototype cop.
But he gestured for her to follow again. He stopped and popped into the darkened living space, twisting a switch on a floor lamp to light it up. She gazed into it as it did.
She'd briefly seen his home in the summer but really hadn't let her or her family be inside the house – keeping them on the back porch for most of the short visit. She barely had time to do her instinctual observation of the still near immaculate space, though, before he moved back by her and again gestured dismissively.
"Ignore the mess," he muttered. "Haven't been here in a couple days with all the shit going on."
Olivia snorted at that and followed after his prowl. "If this is your definition of messy, I don't think I'll ever be able to return the dinner invite. Our place isn't this clean even after we've cleaned it."
He cast her an amused look but then tripped over something – perfect timing to prove his point that the place must be a disaster if something was so much as out of place. He glared at the floor, Olivia's eyes following his in time to see him kick aside a knotted dog chew toy.
"Did you get a dog, Hank?" she asked, when he didn't provide further explanation beyond getting it out of the way.
"Mmm," he grunted again. "Erin dragged one home for Magoo … Ethan … just after the holidays."
Olivia let out a small-amused noise at that. She wasn't sure she saw Hank Voight as a dog person – at all. But with the small glimpses she got of him on their cases that crossed-over, she still had some trouble seeing him as a family person at all – a dad – to imagine one of his older kids bringing home a dog for the younger kid. She wasn't sure she'd have wanted to witness how that went over. Though, from the very brief glimpses she'd gotten of his family life, she got the sense that his bark was a little worse than his bite when it came to his kids – and that they definitely knew how to play him. Kids were good at that. She understood.
"You OK with dogs?" he asked as they passed through his dining room, Olivia glancing around the room.
She was again amazed at how clean it was. But what still stood out to her on this second walk-through of his home she was getting was how it was so clearly decorated by a woman. The art on the walls, the furniture, even the paint – it all had a feminine touch. A sensibility to it that she had trouble believing that a man like Hank Voight would've contributed to beyond being the one to manage the paint roller with the pre-picked cans or following instructions about where to deposit each piece of furniture as he did the grunt work of a room's rearrangement.
He'd told her previously that his wife had been gone for five years. That was nearly a year ago. It'd be almost six now. And, she suspected that not a thing in that house had moved since the woman's death.
"I'm good with dogs," she provided.
She heard endlessly about dogs. They got to annoy a lot of people on the street as her children tried to pet each and every one no matter how apparent it was that the owners didn't want them to – or how much she lectured them about not just petting every dog they saw. The advent of Paw Patrol had only made things worse. Now dogs were heroes. If her kids had their way, there'd be a dog in their home too. But she'd likely blow a gusset if that ever happened. Two small children and a dog? That sounded awful to her. Her disaster zone would likely officially become a disaster zone – FEMA acknowledged - if a dog was added to the mix.
Voight just grunted again. "It's not here right now …"
She followed him into the kitchen – the most lit up space she'd seen – and where he'd clearly been since getting in the house. Grocery bags were still on the counter. It looked like he was just unpacking them as he went – the starts of a meal already in the works on the countertop and stovetop.
"Is anyone here right now?" she asked, though, at the also vacant space.
He shook his head, as he started to work on getting the cork to pop on the wine. "Ethan will be rolling in any minute," he muttered as he got the bottle open and only then went looking for a glass in a cupboard. It looked like he hadn't had to use a wine glass in a while because he seemed to open the wrong cupboard first and after gazing at it for a moment, pulled open its neighbor, shaking his head. Maybe it was more that someone hadn't put something in the exact right spot. Which seemed like a mortal sin in the Voight house based on how the home clearly had a place and proper spot for everything.
Olivia glanced around the kitchen again, wandering the large space. She couldn't imagine having a kitchen this big. This much counter space. Cupboard space. That's the kind of thing that's just unheard of in New York City. Though she was sure even if they could have a place this big it'd be as much as a disaster as their kitchen was now. Counters covered in crap – constantly. Toys and homework and leftovers everywhere. She didn't even try for order and organization anymore. Her and Brian usually just cleared a small space – whether it was on the kitchen counter or the couch – when the kids were actually asleep and they could sit down and watch TV … or eat or talk.
"This kitchen is amazing," she told him genuinely.
He gave her an amused look as he handed her a glass of wine. "Wish Camille … my wife … was around to hear that," he said and gestured somewhat dismissively at the space. "Hated this room. One of our biggest rooms in the house but poor use of space, she said." Olivia offered him a smile at that. But Hank was gazing off at the counter space that wrapped around the corner and the one wall. "Tried to get her to like it a bit more. Put in new cupboards for her."
"Hmm …" Olivia acknowledged with a nod. She'd allow that even though the space was large, it was likely a rather strange arrangement. Lots of vacancy in the middle of the room and near nothing on the one side of the room with the small dining table. And all the appliances were clearly dated. And Olivia wasn't sure she would've picked yellow for any kind of walls. And, though, the cupboards were clearly the nicest feature of the room – the vinyl white countertop hadn't been updated. Still, the workmanship looked sturdy, but the cupboards themselves were clearly cheap. Nothing fancy. But she wouldn't say that there was much of anything too fancy about Hank Voight. "She a neat freak too?" she tried to tease.
He accepted the small jab and made a thin smile – though, not at her. Olivia could tell she'd triggered something and he was thinking of his lost wife. But he seemed to pull out of it and gave a little shrug. "Maybe I was just giving her something to put all her crap in and get it off the counters," he offered.
Olivia gave a small smile at that and took a sip of her wine. He hadn't poured himself a glass but she saw that he'd already started on his own glass of whiskey before she'd gotten there. It was that kind of day.
"Oh, are cupboards the secret to getting counter space?" she joked back. "I should get Brian on that."
Hank gave her a thin-lipped acknowledgement. "Weren't you looking for a new place in the summer?"
"We were," she allowed.
"That happen?"
"It did," she nodded.
"How's that?" Hank asked, though, turned back to his food. He was likely only so interested. She didn't blame him. Anyone's move is only so interesting.
So she shrugged. "It's good," she allowed. "It's nice to have a bit more space. But it's an adjustment."
"Mmm…" Hank grunted, as he worked at rolling together some meatballs, placing them in a hot pan on the stove. "Some condo development you were looking at?"
"We were," she acknowledged. "But ended up going with something a bit more practical." He glanced over his shoulder at her and she shrugged. "We ended up closer to his mom and my former Captain. Our babysitters." He snorted some amusement at that. "Lived in Manhattan my whole life – so it's a bit of an adjustment. For everyone."
He just grunted and went back to his work – again. There was so much more she could say about it. The good, the bad, the ugly of the move. The adjustments it was taking. What they were learning about each other and their kids and functioning as a family. How the new location – and situation – affected her work. And affected his. But Hank Voight wasn't the kind of person you talked about any of that over a glass of wine with – no matter what kind of day you'd just had … or month … or year … and what it had you thinking about. Most of those things she didn't really want to think about anyways – especially while there was an open bottle on the go.
"I was actually thinking about Ethan a while ago," she said, shifting the topic – and her thoughts. He gave her another look – this time furrowing his brow in a small question but gestured in invitation for her to pull up a chair at the small two-seater table in the room. She wandered over slowly as he looked back to whatever he was working on the stove. It smelled good. "The titanosaur exhibit opened at the Natural History Museum. I was wondering if that'd put New York in any better standing in his city ranking scheme."
Hank allowed her another thin-lipped smile at that. "He's been talkin' about that," he allowed. "Wants to see it. You been over yet?"
Olivia shook her head and took a sip of the red. "Not yet. It's on the agenda. Things have been … hectic."
"Mmm …," he grunted and nodded.
It was an understatement. The New Year so far had been beyond hectic for SVU and her family. It was a tizzy. But she knew his agreement was simply to the past three days.
"How is he?" she asked more gently.
She knew Hank had had a scare. She could see it in him. She knew what it was like well enough to see the signs – no matter how good he was at masking it. Hard to mask it when part of the scare was in the same room as them. Working the case with them. And they were one of your own – not just in the squad room. She didn't know how he did that. She couldn't. And then with how it all had played out …
"He's OK," Hank allowed and shrugged.
"I've had some of my cases follow me home," she allowed. "But follow the kids home …" she shook her head. The thought terrified her. It was something she worried about more than she should. Sometimes she feared she thought about the possibility so much that it was just a matter of time before it became a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Hank gazed at her for a long beat but then just shrugged – again an effort to hide the fact that a serial killer had been in one of his children's homes. That he'd been after his family.
"We just don't take chances with these things anymore," he rasped. "Not when someone's coming at the family. And Erin's over here enough. This being 'home' and that psychopath's 'home' thing. So got E set up somewhere safe for a couple nights until we shut it down. But he's fine. Understands."
Olivia nodded. She wasn't sure a twelve-year-old boy should have to 'understand' any of that. But then again she didn't think her two little ones should have to understand some of the things they were forced to understand too – or at least accept. And, 'shut it down' was really a mild way to put it. But it was over. She'd give him that.
But he'd likely be carrying that with him too. She imagined Erin Lindsay would be too. She didn't want to imagine what this had stirred up in the young detective – but she could imagine. Unfortunately. Thankfully, she knew that Erin had good support – on the job and at home. That made all the difference. Olivia hadn't had that and she knew she'd fallen down some of her rabbit holes in her career.
"Is Erin alright?" Olivia tried.
Hank just made an almost indiscernible shrug. Like he didn't know how to answer. Or he just didn't want to. She couldn't blame him for that either.
"She will be," he allowed and turned back to the stove again. "She might be around. Ethan will be anxious to see her."
She allowed another little nod. She didn't think it would be just the boy who was anxious to see her. She'd watched Hank's face as Erin had beelined out of the bullpen when it was all said and done – not talking to anyone. Detective Halstead casting Hank a look before following after her. The squad trying to make it look like it was just them wrapping things up for the day. Another case shut. But Olivia knew that this case wasn't one that just shut. And that the way it shut wasn't a neat said and done.
But she let it drop. There was really only so much she could say. And Hank clearly didn't want to delve into it more. Another thing she couldn't blame him for. He came across as a very private person. And she appreciated that. She was the same way. And he was clearly fiercely protective of that privacy – and the privacy of his children and family.
But she had some inkling that his protection his comment about 'not when someone's coming at your family' ran deeper. She'd asked around enough about him that she'd heard the murmured back story. How his wife had died. Why the side of his son's face – and she assumed the rest of his body – was so scarred. Though he hadn't offered any details and it wasn't her place to bring it up.
Really she could accept that having someone come at your family is terrifying enough. It was one of her worst nightmares. She'd had it all flash before her eyes in January in her own hostage situation and threats against her children's lives. She still feared that at some point someone would come after her – and end up in her home while the kids were there. Or worse – while the kids were there and she wasn't. It'd be beyond terrifying. Her only solitude was in knowing that none of that had happened for years now. And, really, she was in a position now that she wasn't on the front lines enough to be the face or badge some psycho chased after. But there was Brian. And, sometimes she wondered about the kinds of psychos that might follow him home one day – because they'd more than likely be the ones with charisma … and badges and guns. The kind of people her kids were likely to open the door for and the kind of people who already had everything to lose. And that was almost even more terrifying.
But losing any of your family to one of those psychopaths? That she didn't even want to imagine. She couldn't fathom going through that and still going on. And still going on any time one of those psychos popped up in your family's life again – whether it was on the job … or part of the job … or not. All the emotions that would bring up. Who that would make you. She actually thought it explained a lot about who Hank Voight was. How he was. How he interacted with perps. His methods. He didn't take chances. He didn't have patience. And he shut it down by whatever means necessary. She'd seen that again this case.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" she offered instead, though, because it was what she could find to say. She knew he'd take it as the meal – but she meant more than that. If Erin needed someone else to talk to. Another female cop – who'd be there. To some extent. Though, not in quite the same way as Detective Lindsay had just gone through. Not the level of loss she'd experienced while being at the center of it in so many ways.
Hank just shot her a look though and shook his head, again gesturing at the chair and the little table. She nodded and started to wander towards it.
"Gonna have to forgive the food," he said. "Went with quick and easy."
She allowed him a little smile at that and gave her outward palm a shake. "I understand – and I'm not going to turn down a free meal. It smells great."
He just grunted. "Just meatballs," he mumbled. "Something E will eat. Hard to feed him."
She made a little sound as she stood and examined the framed photos he had lining the old farmhouse cabinet against the wall.
"Sounds like my oldest," she allowed as she gazed at the photos. It was almost surreal to see photos of a much younger Erin Lindsay all smiles with her father or others with her brothers. Then there were ones with little boys and a radiant blonde woman that looked so young and full of life too – and who had to be Hank's lost wife. "Whenever he's home, all he wants is spaghetti and meatballs," she said and cast him a look. "And Caesar salad."
Hank let out a small sound. "You're in luck. Making ya that too. Minus the dressing and the croutons. Magoo won't touch those."
She just gave him a smile and turned and reached to lift the one photo. "Is this your new grandson?" she asked.
He glanced at her and gave a little nod, pointing at it. "Henry," he said.
"Ah…" she said giving him a smile and looking back at the shot that had clearly been done by someone with some photography experience – if not a studio. It was a beautiful black and white of the baby who couldn't have been much more than a newborn in it. "Named after grandpa?"
"Mmm…" he grunted. "Poor kid."
Olivia just gave him a smile at that. She actually thought Henry was a cute name for a little boy. Maybe Hank for an adult man – not so much. But she still thought there was a definite honor to a son wanting to name their child after their father. It was likely telling.
"How many months is he?" she asked.
"Six," Hank said – clearly not even having to think on it a beat. "Almost seven." He walked over to her, his hand in his back pocket, digging out his phone. "He's only a few weeks in that one." He gazed at the screen of his phone, thumbing around and then handed to her. "My son and his wife had him home at Christmas."
She gave him another thin smile and did finally sit at the table to flip through the photos that he was clearly showing off as a proud Popa – of the father and grandfather variety. She could partially understand that too. She had quite the collection of her kids in her pocket too.
She smiled and glanced at the toy dinosaur she spotted sitting on the kitchen table. It was at least a foot tall, ugly, and sitting there grinning at her – or more likely drooling at her. Though, she'd spotted a photo in the Christmas collection that Hank had handed her with Ethan drooling over it just as much. The boy looked delighted with the toy.
But she found herself looking at him in the picture. He looked thin and pale – almost translucent really. The clothes he had in the photos were just hanging off him. And despite the happy look on his face – really on all of Hank's family's faces – the young boy was clearly sick. Far sicker than the kid she'd met in the summer. That kid had been going off to baseball practice and trying to climb on the roof of the shed outback to set-up a vantage point for a water war.
She moved her eyes from the toy – that clearly barely six weeks since Christmas, was already showing signs of being well-loved and was possibly the favorite gift of the season based on the fact it was apparently obliged to watch them eat. She eyed Hank but he'd gone back to his chopping and tossing the dicing into a simmering sauce pan.
"You think things are going to be cleaned up enough that you'll get the long weekend? See them again?" she asked.
He glanced back over at her. "I'd booked the Monday," he muttered. "But the plan was to be takin' E fishing—"
"Fishing?" she interrupted with some confusion. She'd definitely been schooled on why Chicago was the Windy City on this trip. She would not want to spend a winter in the city – and would definitely not want to spend free-time fishing in this kind of weather. Who fished in the winter?
"Ice fishing," he clarified.
Olivia made a face. "That sounds awful," she said flatly. But she actually thought it sounded like something that Jack and Brian would likely sign up for in a minute. Cragen too. Hank really should come to New York for a weekend and meet her guys. Though, they might find too much to talk about and too much in common – which she found a little concerning in its own way too.
"Mmm …" he grunted with some amusement to it. She got the sense that other people – likely women … probably Lindsay – had expressed similar distaste to him about the prospects of that trip. She'd definitely noticed that Erin hadn't been mentioned in an inclusion on the outing and she doubted that she minded too much. Ice fishing sounded like a boys' getaway. "Might not go now. Will have to see where things are at."
She suspected he didn't just mean with the paperwork and Chicago's own One PP breathing down their necks. Erin had run out of the bullpen so quickly after getting squared away, Olivia doubted that Hank had had any sort of opportunity to speak to her. As a boss – maybe. And he'd likely gotten a read on where she was in in that. But as her father? Olivia didn't get the sense that had happened. But she suspected that the whole family was probably going to need each other in the next while to pull through.
She knew she had in January after her ordeal. Not that she'd done the best job of dealing with that or talking about it. It was something her – and Brian and the kids were all still working through. It'd take a while. And this definitely would for the Intelligence Unit – and Voight and Lindsay too.
There was clatter at the front door and a man's voice, "You sure we shouldn't knock or something?" he'd asked rather unsurely followed by a woman's voice that seemed familiar: "It's his house." The rustle was accompanied by the clicks of scurrying clawed feet on the hardwood floors and within moments a hulking puppy had appeared in the kitchen. It'd quickly found Olivia, jumping up on her knee and screwing its head around looking for attention while its tongue wagged out of its mouth.
"Bear! Get down," Hank had barked louder than the puppy could likely manage. But it certainly heard and jumped off her knee but she bent to continue to stroke at its bent head. He clearly knew he was in trouble and being chastised – likely done something he'd been told not to many times before.
"It's OK," she assured him. Though, she wasn't sure if the him she was assuring was Hank or the puppy.
There was more clicking and a call down the hall of, "Ethan, you should take off your boots" and a heavy sigh when it was clear from the movement the boy wasn't listening.
"Should we take off our shoes?" that unsure voice had asked again.
"Yes, Randy," the woman had huffed annoyed and it was that tone that made Olivia realize that it was Desk Sergeant Platt who was in Hank's front hall. "If you're planning on coming beyond the front door."
Olivia had cast Hank a look but he was already moving toward the entrance of the kitchen and had completely engulfed his youngest child in a tight hug – his boy pressed against him.
"I think maybe I should … just … stay put …," Randy had tried to whisper but seemed in capable of doing based on the smoky rasp in his tenor.
"You don't have to act so scared of him," Olivia had heard Platt huff annoyedly at the man. But her attention had really set on Hank and his son.
"Hey, Magoo," he muttered at the kid.
The embrace they were sharing was one she knew that could only be experienced between parent and child. She was familiar with it. And it wasn't just her. She'd seen the way the little ones clung to him if he was kept away from home for any overnight with his work. Though she usually managed to avoid that anymore, she still hadn't been able to let go of her kids after the townhouse incident. She'd hugged them so tight and when Jack had come home to check on her, he'd clung to her just as firmly and expressed his worry while she reassured him that she was fine. But kids that age – she didn't think they believed it. She wasn't sure Ethan would believe everything was just 'fine' with his father and his older sister when he saw her either.
Olivia smiled softly at the display but found her eyes drifting as she realized the boy's arms, which were wrapped around his father, had forearm crutches dangling from them. That was new. He hadn't had those in the summer. He'd seemed a little off in the summer but this clearly indicated that maybe more had been wrong – or had gone wrong – since the last time she'd seen the child.
Hank loosened the embrace a bit, letting his one arm drop - though the kid stayed wrapped around him – as Sergeant Platt ended up at the doorway.
"You've officially earned a temporary pass from me giving you flak about that sunny disposition of yours every morning," Platt said a little breathlessly and shook her head at the kid. "I don't know how you do this every day, Hank."
Olivia let out a little snort at that. She knew that feeling too. Exhaustion. Kids and the job was hard work. Kids and the job as a single parent – very hard work. Though, it looked like Hank had some good support.
Olivia was almost surprised to see it was Trudy Platt who was bringing his son in the door – who had clearly been the 'safe place', Hank had had his boy stashed while they dealt with Yates. But she also knew she likely shouldn't be. When you spend long enough in the same precinct – or district – you seemed to create relationships that ran stronger than blood.
But Platt heard her sound and looked around Hank and gazed at her for a moment, Olivia holding up her hand in greeting and offering a quiet 'hi', but Platt just nodded and then looked at Hank like she was weighing that.
Ethan gazed too – but his eyes seemed to fall on the dinosaur rather than her and let go of his dad clicking over. "YOU FOUND HER," Ethan blurted – completely ignoring her and grabbing the toy off the table. "I sent you so many texts about her."
Hank glanced over his shoulder. "Ethan, when did I have time to be coming back here to look for the fucking dinosaur?"
"Dad! You made me leave so fast I forgot her!"
"You didn't forget the thing. It was right there on the table like it always is," he muttered.
"Yea! Because breakfast is gross. You want me to eat gross – I need Indominus Erin."
Olivia let out another quiet amused sound at that pronunciation but the boy shot her another look – that was really more of a glare. He clearly hadn't yet perfected the glare game that his father and sister were so versed in, though. It wasn't that intimidating.
"Hey," Hank barked again, catching the look the kid was giving her. "Be polite. Say hello."
He squinted at her in an unimpressed look that she was rather familiar with. Apparently the stink eye was something that all little boys perfected. "Hello."
"Hi, Ethan," she smiled at him – ignoring the stony look she was getting. He was clearly unimpressed he was having to share his dad's attention on his homecoming.
But Hank was already done with observing their exchange and Ethan was done with her, navigating with the crutches back toward where his father and Platt were in the doorway.
"I take it he didn't eat breakfast for you?" Hank put flatly to Platt, who just raised an eyebrow in a skewed face as she cast a look to the oncoming boy, that clearly stated that the kid was a mule. Olivia wouldn't doubt it. She'd seen his father … and his sister … in action. But Hank just cast his boy another unimpressed look before looking back to Platt again. "You and Randy staying for dinner too?" he rasped at her. Clearly shutting down an obtuse interpretation of Olivia's presence.
She shook her head and started to dig through the backpack she held in her hand. "I'm loath to turn down your cooking, Hank, but we've got Battle of the Badges to get to. We organized it. Gotta be there."
"Mmm …" he grunted. "You know if Lindsay bought a ticket?"
Platt glanced from her rummaging. "She did," she muttered. "But she shouldn't feel like she needs to come."
"Mmm …" Hank grunted again. "I don't know where she headed after shift."
"Oh," Platt gaped at him. "Ah … well … we didn't see her at … the … thing …?"
"We WON, Dad," Ethan put to him, looking up at him with the biggest, proudest eyes – the dinosaur he'd seemed so interested in moments ago now forgotten.
"Hmm …" Hank said, giving him the kind of faux impressed look that Olivia knew only parents could really pull off as he scruffed at the boy's messy hair.
Olivia only then realized Ethan was clearly in an ungodly-colored maroon private school uniform – and somehow that surprised her too. Or maybe it didn't. She'd thought repeatedly about sending her kids to private school. But the expense on a cop's salary? Even if they had two cops' salaries to work with these days. It was just outside their reach – especially with the new living situation. She supposed, though, things were cheaper in Chicago?
"I don't have a clue what we were watching," Platt said, still rummaging in the bag. "But he assures me they won."
It made Olivia wonder exactly what it was that the kid was involved in. Because she wasn't sure she could see the boy in front of there then as engaged in any sort of sports. How could he be?
Hank let an amused noise and Ethan looked up at him again. "We scored way more points than our first game, Dad."
"Good," Hank rasped at him. "Proud of you. Sorry I couldn't be there tonight, Kiddo."
"Is the case done?" Ethan asked, giving his dad a careful examination. Clearly looking for any fibs his father might try to get by him. Olivia wondered how many little white lies and stretches of the truth he did manage to get by a kid that age. She knew it had always been hard with Jack – and now with him a full-fledged 'adult', it was near impossible. Sadly, even her little boy – at all of seven – had become attuned enough to Mommy and Brian's jobs that he could usually sense when the truth was being skewed a bit to protect him and his siblings. It was a sad reality of a police family. Weighing the fear and the protective instinct in what you told your kids and what you didn't. There was no easy way around it and no right way to handle it. You just had to do the best you could. Try to be as honest as possible without causing them undo worry and stress.
"Yea," Hank grunted. "So I'll get to your next one."
"You got him?" Ethan asked, giving him this look of admiration again.
"Yea …" Hank said a little more carefully and seemed to hold his son a bit tighter. "We got him …"
Ethan just nodded against him as Platt finally pulled out what she was looking for. "So this is the homework he didn't to last night and they sent it home with him again tonight," she said, handing Hank a packet of papers. He gave his son an unimpressed look but Ethan looked away.
"What'd I tell you?" he asked bluntly.
"I behaved," he mumbled, his arms starting to slump off his dad.
"Doing your homework is behaving," he said. "Eating your breakfast."
Ethan let out a little sigh but Platt just held out another packet. "I had some teacher chase me down to give this to me. It's a study packet for a test …?" she asked, shrugging and looking to Ethan for clarification but the boy just shrugged too.
Hank nodded, though. "I'll take a look," he assured.
"The teacher seemed pretty adamant you're supposed to call them before the weekend," Platt added.
"What's this all about?" Hank put to his kid.
But Ethan only shrugged again. "Some test in social studies next week."
Hank grunted and gazed at it, flipping through the pages in it. Looked like quite the study guide, if that's what it was. But Platt dangled a large freezer bag in front of him just stuffed with prescription pill bottles.
"Bag and tag," she muttered and Hank took it.
"Thanks," he muttered.
Platt nodded and pulled some other little zippered case out of the bag, handing it to him. "He wouldn't do this himself," she said, both her and Hank casting Ethan a look and him looking away even more. "So we took him over to 51 last night and Sylvie Brett did it. But didn't have time tonight …"
Hank nodded, though he was clearly giving his son a look that indicated he wasn't happy about that – whatever that was. "Got it covered. Thanks, Trudy."
She just nodded too and gave Ethan a small smile. "He wasn't too much trouble."
"Mmm …" Hank allowed and gave his son a little jostle. "He was supposed to be no trouble." He looked at his kid. "Go get changed. I'll come give you your meds in a few."
Ethan gave a little nod and looked at Platt as he started to navigate away. "Thank you for letting me stay with you."
"No problem," she said, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You come back and visit whenever you want. Just remember I want you working on this robot stuff – so you're taking Mouse's job, not mine."
Ethan gave her a look. "You'll be retired before I can have your job," he provided.
Platt gave him a slightly offended look. "Just how old do you think I am?"
The boy shrugged. "As old as dad."
"Oh, right," Platt nodded. "Ancient."
Ethan smiled brightly and shrugged but Hank just gave him another little knock to get him moving. Him and Platt following down the hall and them out of Olivia's sight, though she could still hear them.
"Thanks, Randy," Hank said further up the hall again. "Really appreciate you and Trudy watching him for me."
It sounded like the guy Platt was with stumbled over himself again and didn't manage to get any acknowledgement out before Trudy was telling him to be a gentlemen and get the car running again. There seemed to be more bumbling around as he followed up on that order.
It made Olivia smile a bit – wondering about exactly what kind of man would be with Sergeant Platt. But she shouldn't wonder too harshly. People probably wondered the exact same thing about her too and cast assumptions on Brian for him putting up with her. Though, she liked to think it was her who put up with him in a lot of cases.
"His bag," Olivia heard Trudy say again as the front door opened and closed. Her voice lowered a little but she also heard, "Had a bit of an … episode last night. Didn't let us know, though. So we just found the laundry in the morning. Put it in the wash so I'll bring in his clothes as soon as they're dried up."
Hank made a little sound. "Sorry about that."
Trudy made a dismissive sound. "He was fine," she stressed. "He's a real nice kid, Hank. You know that."
"Yea … I do …" The door opened again. "Good luck with the fundraiser."
"We've got it covered," she said. "Antonio …"
Hank made an amused sound. "Fire doesn't know what's coming."
The door shut and Hank reappeared in the kitchen, dropping the schoolwork on one counter and opening a cupboard door to deposit the baggie of pills in another.
"Not my business …" Olivia started and he gave her a look – there was clearly some unimpressedness to it. Almost a challenge for her to continue, but she did. "Is your son OK?"
He made another dismissive gesture. "Yea …" he acknowledged.
"The crutches …" Olivia tried to press gently.
Hank just grunted. "Multiple sclerosis," he said. "Had a flare in December. One leg really hasn't been working right since. Just make it easier for him to get around."
Olivia nodded but in truth she didn't know what to say. She wanted to say something but felt like anything she said would seem very empty and she didn't think Hank Voight was the kind of person who tolerated those kinds of platitudes very well.
"I didn't know you were so close with Platt," she said instead.
"Yea …" he allowed again, washing his hands and returning to his cooking. "Known each other most of our careers. Same year at the Academy. Tough lady. Known the kids since … always."
Olivia allowed him a small smile. But her eyes drifted as the front door opened again. She watched as Erin Lindsay came in and didn't even stop to take off her coat or boots before stomping up the stairs – and likely trailing snow, salt, gravel along with her. But Hank just moved to look down the hall too and didn't give comment.
Jay Halstead came in behind her and gazed after her up the stairs but just have his head a little shake and did remove his boots before coming into the kitchen. He examined her for a moment, giving her a small nod but then went to Hank, setting something on the counter.
"Definitely a brownie night," he said.
Hank grunted and looked at the bag of desserts that had been provided. "Thanks for getting her home."
"Yea … she was at Molly's," Halstead said.
Another grunt. "Charles there?" Halstead just raised his eyebrow at that and Hank grunted again.
"She decided she wanted to check in on Eth," Halstead said and pointed up the front hall. "Don't think she's planning on hanging around long. But I think I should let her know you've got company."
"Yea …" Hank grunted.
Halstead moved from where he was leaning against the counter but Hank reached and smacked the little zippered pack into the young man's chest. "If her hands are steady, see if she can do that for him."
Halstead gazed at the little pack but nodded. "Yea," he acknowledged. "She not up to it, I can give him his injection."
Hank just allowed a little nod and Halstead walked back by her, giving her another little nod. "Lieutenant," he managed that time.
"Detective …" she allowed and let her eyes follow him down the hall as he left and mounted the stairs. Her eyes drifted back to Hank but he was again puttering on his meal. "Hank … I can go," she offered.
But he looked at her and shook his head, again making another gesture like none of this was a big deal. "Nah," he said. "This is just what evenings look like 'round here anymore. Don't worry about it. They'll all be back down in a bit. Friendlier."
"You don't don't need to put on happy faces for my sake," she said.
But he shrugged. "Not. Just our dynamics. They're interesting."
She allowed a small smile at that. They certainly were. But she supposed they seemed to work?
AUTHOR NOTE: Just to address a couple things. First, I've gotten some criticism about the possibility of Erin's past coming out of left field. Just wanted to clarify that in Season 1 (either episode 1 or 2), it was clear in Erin's C.I. file that she was picked up for solicitation. In legal crimes, that would mean she was offering up sex for crash. The other legal options that would fall under that area — coercion to commit a crime — likely wouldn't be plausible for a girl her age at the time. I think giving the circumstances around Erin's youth that she's described on the show it's fairly plausible that she traded her body at some point — in some way, and at that age it's more plausible it would've been in the realm of oral sex — to feed her mother's habits, protect herself (not be taken away from her mother/put into foster care or a group home) and to have income to eat, etc.
I actually feel they've given us enough glimpses at Erin's past that a lot of her backstory is fairly predictable and transparent. I think it's more Jay's past that they've told us very little about (and seem to be rewriting parts of it as they fill out Will's character on Chicago Med). I'm more spitballing with his backstory than I am Erin's. But I do think they've crafted some interesting elements for him to have various reactions to and interactions with — which could be potentially telling to his character in the future. But — yes — I would agree that the introduction of a potential abuse/trauma of Jay is way more out of left field than Erin's. But I also don't feel it's completely implausible with how certain things have been presented on the show. Sorry if anyone feels it's too far out of plausibility for his character.
Also — Erin and Jay not speaking together and having a rocky relationship in their engagement is purposeful. I feel it's an accurate reflection of them in the show. They're both very private. I think they need each other in their lives — and have a mutual agreement that they're not seeing anyone else and want to be 'together' but that they are also very career focused and oriented. The story has pushed that ahead and perhaps made them 'rush' into the relationship in a period where they both might've been afraid to lose each other. You'll have to wait to see how that plays out. But them having areas that they haven't talked about or aren't ready to talk about — despite the fact they are engaged in this story — is very purposeful. There's a reason to it and it's something the characters are meant to be evolving and realizing and making choices and decisions about as they move forward. Are they ready to let down walls and really be married? Or are they just afraid to let go or hurt the other? There's reason to the madness. This isn't supposed to be some easy love story where they are perfect together and going to live happily ever after. I don't think that's what you're going to see in the show either.
Also — I thought it was really funny that this week's episode had the Erin taking the fry thing and the look on Jay's face. Personally, I thought that was a perfect follow to the "McFlurry" chapter. Erin smart-assedly twisting the knife. Jay's face said it all and I can just imagine the comment he would've had when they left the garage. I might do a recast of the scene and follow on it.
That said — yes — I do plan to do a follow on the McFlurry chapter, and yes, it's not the last time Jay and Erin will be talking about this.
But I am working on a variety of chapters right now. I know some of you hate that this story is "scenes" and not a continuous story. But I was upfront that that's how this collection of chapters was going to develop. Basically developing a continuous story can be tiresome and frustrating. I take the time to develop and see the scenes. If I can' see how it plays out and the dialogue within the scene — it might be a while before I write it. That gets frustrating and boring for me and causes me to delay writing anything. Just ask people who read my SVU series. I've tried to do stories continuously there and I hit points where I may have ideas for other chapters or scenes down the road but since it's not happening "right then" in the story — they just don't get written and neither do the next chapters in the sequence either. It just hits a stand still because I'm bored with it.
If I'm going to write this in sequence, then you'll be waiting weeks (or even months if SVU is any indication) before I feel inspired to do the next chapter in sequence. I venture that more of you are opposed to not getting an update that frequently then you are of things being out of order. Because infrequent updates can also lead to no updates the more bored I become with it and as I contribute to these stories for longer periods of time, the more boring it becomes. Right now jumping around and doing what inspires me in the moment, keeps me interested. Hoepfully that's beneficial to the majority of us.
As a glimpse of what is on the go:
-A chapter predominately focused on Burgess/Ruzek, but featuring Jay/Erin/Voight.
-A follow with Ethan/Hank following them going over to Holly's parents house.
-A chapter with Hank and Holly's mother talking.
-A Hank/Erin chapter that would be set after the "McFlurry" incident and looking into her past a bit more.
-A Jay/Erin chapter set after the McFlurry discussion.
-A Jay/Hank chapter, featuring Ethan set at Father's Day and featuring a camping/fishing trip.
-A possible Jay/Erin chapter set at the Father's Day weekend too.
-A Erin/Hank chapter featuring them talking about Ethan's 13th birthday and also delving into some memories about Camille and Erin's teens at the Voight house.
-Ethan's birthday, which again would predominately focus on Erin/Hank conversation but also just be some color and a lighter moment in terms of Ethan having some fun and being a kid his age.
-A chapter of them going to Ethan's RoboWars thing for the first time. It'd at least feature Hank and would likely also feature Erin/Jay and Mouse but not sure.
-A chapter of Ethan's RoboWars in St. Louis, which would predominantly feature Hank/Erin.
-Also planning an Easter chapter but haven't decided how to do it. If it would be Hank/Ethan alone at the house, if Hank would've gone to see Justin/Olive/Henry so it'd be Ethan/Erin and likely Jay, if Hank might've offered to pay for Olive/Henry to come to visit, etc. If anyone has any thoughts or preferences let me know.
I'm also playing with a concept for a Hank/Dr. Charles chapter but haven't completely played out what it might look like yet. And I've been interested in the suggestions of the Erin/Jay pregnancy scare or an Erin/Ethan chapter after her getting hurt or a Jay/Hank chapter related to him helping out with Ethan when Erin has a cold/flu. I think those are interesting ideas and scenario to explore but haven't entirely worked them out in my head yet.
Also after writing this chapter and with how I assume next week's crossover episode is going to play out, I might end up doing a Valentine's Day chapter with Jay/Erin, even though I had previously felt it'd been pretty much covered.
I also feel like there hasn't been a real Hank/Ethan or Erin/Ethan moment for a while and am thinking about ideas for that too.
Anyways — that's not the order that things will necessarily get written. But if people have any thoughts, opinions or preferences, let me know. I'll take them under consideration. Keep up the ideas and suggestions too. I consider them and might do them depending on how closely they mirror how I perceive the CPD universe and this AU.
Thanks for reading — and reviewing.
