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.
Erin looked toward the stairs that lead up to the main floor and the kitchen – Jay's heavy, tired steps trekking up them.
"Whatever you're making, it smells amazing," he told her just as he emerged around the bend and saw her standing there.
She gave him a thin smile – but a genuine. She knew he was exhausted. She knew that the case had rattled him some.
Both the girls – and what was being done to them – but also with the accusations that Ellie batted around and the professional implications that had. As well as the blow to his ego and his personal integrity. But, it wasn't just all that. That was enough to bring out his temper – and his at times limited patience. But Erin knew he was teetering toward volatile because some of his still open wounds from his own past were being exposed.
It might not have been boys he was having to deal with – but it was still teenaged victims being taken advantage of and brutalized by people in positions of authority at a place where they should be safe. Add in that one of the girls had been a key perpetrator in tricking the others out – and the murder – someone their age, and it only made the situation worse.
Those kinds of cases set Jay off. And, though, they hadn't had a chance to talk about much of it yet – and even when they did, it was debatable how much he'd say or what he'd admit it'd done to him on his inside, what it'd triggered inside him – she knew what situations were like well enough.
She knew the kind of things girls in those situations did. She'd been in them. She'd been on of those girls. And she knew that however it was framed, Jay would've been propositioned. And as much as he wanted to depict it as an offer of sex or her touching or kissing his cheek. Erin knew how this started. That what would've been placed in front of him was oral sex or a handjob.
That some little girl – Ellie - likely tried to touch him. And that would send Jay's skin crawling enough. But they were children. Because he was a good guy. And even undercover, he wasn't quite good enough at his acting that he was able to hide that. He might never be. Not in these kinds of cases.
But Erin also knew Jay well enough that she also knew that it wouldn't just be about that. She knew that reaching for his crotch – touching him uninvited and outside of his many rules and boundaries – came with repercussions. And left him with that look in his eyes. The trigger. The PTSD. The hurt and the guilt and the shame and the embarrassment and the outright rage and anger all mingling together. And she didn't have any doubt in her that he'd been triggered on this case.
That the PTSD had been dancing in him. In how he was holding himself when he was in the bullpen. The way he continuously held his arms crossed protectively in front of him. IN the short temper. The hit walls and the thrown chairs and the raised voice. And that look in his eyes. There. For all to see. Though, she didn't know how many people in the bullpen actually recognized it. And even if they did, if they'd truly connected what was under it. That it wasn't just the Rangers or Afghanistan. That there was more to how volatile he got every time they ended up on a case with kids or teens. Especially ones like this. Where it wasn't gangbangers or drugs. Where it was a different kind of evil they were dealing with.
"Meatloaf," she provided. "With ketchup."
"Spicy ketchup?" he asked, as he got to her level and wandered into the kitchen.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You really think I'd make it with just plain, old, regular ketchup?"
He smiled. An exhausted, dopey smile. One that had endeared him to her. Because was scruffy and rough and tumble he could be. That tough guy image he tried to project – and protect – because he needed to. Because in a lot of ways he was. But she could also see that little boy in him. The goofy one, who was hurt and anxious and really just wanted someone to love and accept him too. And she understood that. It was something she wanted too. To just be good enough.
He came over and wrapped his arms around her and she let him. Let him lean over her and give her a small kiss next to her ear. To support some of his weight. Because as he pressed into her back, she could feel his exhaustion. She could feel that he still felt like he was carrying the weight of the world that night. And she let him watch her work for a long moment, as he held her – as he weighed against her – and stared down at her hands peeling the potatoes.
"And mashed potatoes?" he mumbled against her neck.
She made a little affirmative sound. "And green bean casserole."
"You're an angel," he smiled against her neck.
And it made her smile too. Jay wore his heart on his sleeve a lot – when it came to those he cared about most. But he usually refrained from being overly sappy. He wasn't a grand romantic. Maybe a bit of a romantic at heart – in an philosophical sort of way. But every once and a while, when he was really tired – and maybe had had a bit more to drink than he should – he let a little bit of sap slip out. Not in a flippant or melodramatic way. It wasn't patronizing or sarcastic. It was just Jay. A state of fact presented in one of his softer moments. And she liked when she got them. She didn't tease him about them or put a sarcastic wit back at him. Because if she did, the walls might go back up, and the occasional sappiness would dry up with it. And sometimes it was nice to have your man – your best friend in the world, your partner in life – tell you things like you were an angel.
"I figured you'd want a real meal," she allowed. Though, she'd briefly considered just offering up takeout or suggesting they go out for dinner when he did finish with his paperwork and got home. But she could see how mentally, emotionally and physically drained she was even when she was leaving for the day. And, she knew that her actually cooking for him would be a lot more meaningful than her getting on the phone to have Thai delivered – no matter how much he liked Thai.
This was comfort food. Low-income Midwest comfort food. Something that wouldn't normally fit into Jay's diet routine unless it was one of his so-called cheat days. But it was something he'd grown up with. And even though living with Bunny there hadn't ever really been enough money to afford meatloaf – and it'd never been a dish in high rotation at the Voights' while she lived there – she'd still listened when he talked about how his mom made it. How much he'd grown up on meat and potatoes. And, even though she wouldn't delude herself that hers tasted anything like his mom's – nor that it was even particularly good – she had learned how to make the meatloaf smeared with ketchup and chili powder and how to mix up the beans and mushroom soup and crispy fried onions. And the handful of times they'd had it, Jay still acted like it was better than some of the fancy-pants restaurants they'd stood in ridiculous lines for to eat brunch at with Will and Nina.
Erin didn't entirely buy his professed love for the meal. Though, she appreciated it. Even if she suspected it was all just an act to get her to cook for him more.
"You figured right," he allowed. "The food they were feeding those kids should've been on the list of the criminal activity going on at Brady."
She made a quiet sound of amusement. Though, she knew it was fact. She knew what those kinds of places served up as food. He'd likely been living off of PB+J for the week. If he was lucky.
Still, she let herself put down the knife and potatoes and twisted around in his grip, smiling up at him as she dipped in for a kiss and his arms settled around waist, right above her ass.
"Did I mention I'm about take all those bananas you abandoned on the counter all week and make you banana bread instead?" she told him, as she reached to touch his cheek, to rub at his scruff there.
"Have I mentioned lately that I love you?" he put to her.
She smiled more at him. "I don't think I heard much of that this week," she said. But outside of him check in at work and them trying to sort out the tangled web the girls were weaving, she really hadn't seen much of him.
"I love you," he affirmed.
She grinned at him. "Love you too," she said and leaned in again to find his mouth.
They kissed. A real kiss. It wasn't foreplay. It was clearly a request for closeness. The need for it. And comfort. To just be together. His quiet gratitude that the case was closed. That he was home. That he wasn't undercover anymore. That he could sleep in his own bed. With her. And they could start moving passed this. That he could calm and settle. The kiss – its connection and its deepness, its quiet sensualness – told her that he wanted her to be part of that. To be there with him while he did settle.
But the kiss was still interrupted.
"Gross …" was mumbled loudly from across the level. Out of the mouth of her little brother.
Their mouths stopped moving – though they didn't immediately part. Erin could feel amusement across Jay's lips at the comment but also felt the mild annoyed frustration pulse down his body. He parted from her and rested his forehead against hers.
"Sorry," she said quietly.
"It's OK," he allowed. Though, she could tell it wasn't entirely. It wasn't for her either. "I saw his boots downstairs …"
He turned his head slightly, gazing into the living room. To Ethan flopped on the floor at the coffee table, ignored homework spread there while the rest of the space was piled with toys he'd pulled out from the fabric bin that had taken up residence under their end table. A physical reminder of not just how often Eth was over there anymore – but that Henry was. There were toys and educational aides and board books and games and general activities and distractions for the two boys. Some that had been dragged over and left. Some that they'd purchased on their own to try to make either evolving big brother-big sister, aunt-uncle duties, obligations and responsibilities a little easier.
E was supposedly using the toys for some sort of spelling and writing assignment. She'd had to send him over there to try to do that on his own when it'd reached a point she needed a break from trying to help him do his math homework. But it really just looked like he was staring at the TV. Apparently it hadn't zombied him out enough, though, to distract him entirely from Jay's arrival home.
"Hi, Eth," Jay provided.
But Eth just looked at him in a long gaze and then turned back to the TV. Apparently they weren't that interesting now that their lips weren't locked anymore.
Jay gave her a look at the brush-off he'd just gotten. But she shrugged and made her own noise of frustration, twisting out of his grip a bit to go and finish with the potatoes.
"Did it look like Hank was almost done?" she asked.
Even though she knew the answer. The case had created a shitload of paperwork with agencies and red tape hitting them from multiple angles. There was the Ivory Tower. There were the lawyers. There was DCFS. There was Jay's FoP rep. The medical examiner's office. Co-ordinating with Homicide and Special Victims.
Jay filling out his share of forms had taken hours. As the supervisor of the unit, it'd take Hank hours more – because he was in-charge of mopping up the mess, co-ordinating with all the other stakeholders and being accountable to the higher ups. And he'd be doing his best to keep the shit from running downhill and colliding into Jay unfairly. Because he did that for his team. Taught lessons and let you learn from your mistakes and missteps but also protected you from the assholes who didn't get the job – and didn't have the best interests of the victims or the community in mind.
She'd been in communication enough with Hank to know that he was going to be a while. Though, Hank wasn't one to ever attach a time to what "a while" meant. It could mean anything from him being five minutes late to five hours late. Or longer. She was really hoping that that night, though, it would be sooner rather than later. Because, as much as she'd come to accept that being an adult in Ethan's life – and whatever other labels they placed on that role that never seemed to quite capture exactly what her responsibilities had become with her little brother – she knew where she was really needed that night was with her fiancée. And it was her that she should be available to.
But, she supposed, her and Jay were both coming to understand that being there for each other came in a lot of forms. And when family was involved and it all intermingled with their work and professional lives, it made carving out that alone time to actively be there for each other a little different. Maybe it was a good crash course in preparing for the if, and when, they had kids of their own. And had to still find time to be a couple and to be there – actively – and to hear each other's thoughts, hopes, fears and dreams, and to talk it all through.
Jay shook his head. "Not really," he said of the potential of Hank's impending arrival. "What happened to Olive?"
She let out another long breath through her nose – trying to hide her annoyance. Because she would've liked that night to just be there for Jay. To have some alone time. Not just for them. But for him. To let him come home and talk or sleep. Or more. Because he needed that – for his own emotional health and sanity after a case like that too.
"She has some test tomorrow that she doesn't feel ready for," she muttered and cast him a look. "So …" she flared her nostrils at that and then shrugged. Because what the fuck could they really do? There wasn't a right or fair answer for anyone. Someone was going to get screwed over in the situation. So it became more of a question of how one person getting screwed over would affect the rest of them long-term. And Olive flunking a test would have bigger implications for all of them long-term than her and Jay not getting to talk immediately that night. They'd still get decompression time. They'd still be allowed to talk. It just might not be as immediately or as alone as either of them might've liked it.
So she just pointed her knife over in Eth's direction. "And so does he. But apparently he was crippling around at school. So the nurse gave him one of his meds. Now he's off on another planet."
And likely liable to flunk his test too. Because studying wasn't happening. And even if it was, Erin couldn't remember how the hell to do the practice test that had been sent home with him. So, in another screw over to all of them, she was sort of glad Jay was there now. Because, the math homework … he was good at that. He seemed to remember it. Understand it. And know how to explain it to Eth in a way he seemed to grasp. Too bad his fucking educational aide didn't seem to have the same skill set or patience.
Jay made a quiet noise of acknowledgement, leaning against the counter and staring in careful examination at Eth who'd gone back to staring at the TV with a pencil gripped in one hand in some sort of lax attempt to look like he was actually doing something over there.
"We're taking a break," Erin put flatly. "So he survives until his math test. Even if he doesn't survive it."
Jay made a small sound and gave a little nod, still looking across at Ethan. Though, he was reaching as she finished peeling the potatoes and rinsing them under faucet before dropping them into a pot of water she had there.
"His EA send up a practice test?" he muttered, without a glance.
Erin reached and grabbed the sheet from where Eth had left it in front of the stool he'd sat sulking on at the raised breakfast bar along the side of their countertop. She slide over to where Jay was slouching, still contemplating the kid.
"I am apparently not smarter than an Eighth Grader," she said of the sheet with all these monomial, binomial and polynomial operations on it. It was written in a foreign language to her. And apparently to Ethan too. "Do you remember how to do those things?"
Jay pulled his eyes away from Eth and gave the sheet a slow perusal. It got another sound of acknowledgement. Not a yes or a no. Just acknowledgement.
"You should let your brother know you're alive," she nodded at him.
He made a sound. That wasn't acknowledgement. That was distaste. But it was another sign that Jay was struggling a bit more than he wanted to let on. That some of his childhood wounds had had salt rubbed in them. That he'd triggered a bit. Because Will was on the list of people he didn't have much interest in being around or talking to when he was going through one of his episodes. That dealing with his brother while he was struggling to stifle one of his triggers – to calm the PTSD – was the last thing he had any interest in doing. His older brother who let him down. And through backward comments Jay had made Erin could only be left with the impression that Will might've turned a blind-eye in a way that had allowed Jay to be farther victimized. And even if Will hadn't fully known or understood all that was going on, he, in the very least, hadn't stood up for Jay nor had he saved him from it. And as much as Jay had forgiven him and they'd all tried to move on, Erin knew too in some ways that would always be unforgivable. Especially on days like this. Especially every time Jay had to interact with more children – teens – who were the victims and people in positions of authority, power or trust hadn't saved them either.
"He's been trying to get a hold of you, apparently," she tried. "He called my phone when you weren't getting back to him."
That got another sound out of him, as he stared at Ethan. "What'd he want?" Jay muttered. There was a small care-factor there. But a whole lot of don't give a fuck intermingled with it.
"After ranting at me about this being a repeat of Afghanistan …," she said.
He cast her look making another unimpressed sound, as he straightened. The sound that said he hated how Will rewrote history about the whens and hows and whys the two of them went through periods of lack of communication. About the accusation that he hadn't told him where he was while he was in Afghanistan – when he wasn't allowed to tell anyone, for the safety of his entire unit. When it wasn't Jay who'd pulled repeated – and extended – disappearing acts on his family.
"There's trouble in paradise," she told him, raising her eyebrow.
"Of course," he mumbled.
"He asked me what I felt was an inappropriate number of workplace romances," she said.
Jay shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I hope you didn't legitimize that with an answer," he said picking up the practice math test.
"Nope," she allowed.
It hadn't taken long to realize she didn't want to get anywhere near Will and his lousy love life. She thought Jay was a little envious of her hands-off stance on that. But it was way too messy. She already had to deal with enough of that in own life and with Kim coming to her for advice.
How and why Kim thought she was someone who could legitimately give viable advice on love and relationships still boggled her mind. She'd basically decided after a whole lot of self-destructive behavior, bad choices and completely falling on her face combined with a healthy disinterest – and lack of understanding of love, relationships or marriage – had eventually allowed her to be in the right place, at the right time and to meet the right guy who was right for her. Basically – she'd gotten lucky. And now she just had to work her ass off to make sure that the actual love, marriage and relationship part actually worked. And that was hard too. And most of the time, she thought both her and Jay were both just making it up as they went along. But, she supposed, that seemed to work too. Fake it until they made it. As long as they were committed to making it through together. And they seemed to be.
Jay just grunted something that vaguely sounded like a 'thanks' but probably sounded a whole lot more like Hank. And headed to cross into the living space.
He slumped heavily onto the couch without Ethan acknowledging him but didn't brow beat him about it. He just stared at the television too. Sitting there for several long minutes, as Erin went back to finishing up the potatoes and getting them on the stove to start boiling. So that hopefully that they'd be about ready when the rest of their meal was ready. And hoped even more that Ethan would decided he wasn't interested in potatoes that night so she could actually use milk and butter when she mashed them up – rather than just smashing the things down or having to resort to coconut milk. Potatoes and coconut milk just really wasn't meant to go together in her opinion.
Then she shifted her focus to starting on the banana bread, that she knew her and Jay would likely have done by the time breakfast was over tomorrow morning. It was a good thing she rarely baked, because that kind of breakfast was dangerous to have in the house for both of them. As she started organizing and measuring out the ingredients, she gave occasional glances over at Jay and her brother.
"What are we watching?" Jay finally asked.
"Need for Speed," Ethan mumbled. "Evan said it was really good. But it's not. There's too much talking and not enough racing."
Jay made a little sound and stared at the screen again. It apparently was enough to finally get a glance from Ethan.
"You worked a lotta doubles this week," he said.
"Mmm," Jay acknowledged. "Yea …"
Ethan examined him. "Did you wear that to work?"
Jay glanced down at his yellow flannel and jeans. "Yea."
Eth squinted. "That's not how you usually dress for work," he said. "Or ever."
Jay made a quiet sound at that but leaned forward, setting the practice test on the coffee table. Eth gave it an anxious glance. But Jay didn't say anything, he just slide off the couch and settled on the floor next to Magoo.
"Yellow's kind of a weird color," Ethan said – clearly still trying to steer clear of the pending homework push.
"Yea?" Jay put to him. But Erin could see that he was now really taking in the kid. Watching his body language and checking his eyes. Weighing just how high as a kite he was in that moment. How much pain he was in. Or if the medication has subtitled one for the other.
"I don't like it," Eth said. "But my mom did. So she likely would've liked that shirt."
Jay gave him a small smile. "You saying you don't like my shirt?"
Eth shrugged and pointed at the shirt that was on underneath. "Dad was wearing a shirt that color today too. I don't know what color that is."
Jay made a small face at the suggestion that him and Hank had been twinning without him even realizing it. But Erin had noticed too. It just hadn't been the kind of day – or week – to tease either of them about that kind of thing.
"I think it's maroon," Jay provided.
"More like purple," Eth muttered, staring transfixed at the color and the abstract pattern on the tee. He was clearly out of his head. "It looks pretty bad with yellow."
"Mmm …," Jay acknowledged. "Maybe I should just go back to black and grey?"
Eth kept staring. "Yea. Maybe," he said sounding really distant. But he seemed to snap out of it and met Jay's eyes briefly. "Tomorrow's civies day."
"Mmm …," Jay acknowledged again, glancing around him and reaching to pull the bin of toys closer to him, looking in and starting to root around for something in there. Whatever was left in there. Ethan had all sorts of crap spread all over the place over there. He was worse about it than Henry on the days he decided he was going to get into it and not just commandeer their TV and Jay's flatscreen and Xbox when he was over. "Take it you're not going to be wearing yellow and purple."
Eth didn't catch the sarcasm. "I don't know if I'm going to do it this time," he said instead. "I hate you hafta pay two bucks to wear normal clothes. That's kinda a lotta allowance."
Jay made another sound of acknowledgement. "But maybe it's a small price to pay to keep some of the assholes from giving you a hard time about being in your colors on civies day," he provided.
Eth gave him a hurt look at that. But there was an acknowledgement in his eyes too. Jay had come into the District more than once since their move from having dropped Eth off at school and having spotted kids busting his balls as he tried to make his way across the quad and into the buildings. Erin had seen it too. They'd both talked to him about it. But Ethan always tried to play it down and still seemed scared about his dad finding out about him being bullied, even though she knew Hank knew and was as mad – or madder – than them about it. But Eth still lived in fear that if he got into a fight that his dad might end up sending him away again – or make him go to military school or join the army. Like Justin. No matter how many times everyone assured him that wasn't what would happen. The reality was at this point, if Eth ever decided to take on one of the little fuckers at Iggy's who gave him a hard time, that he'd likely earn a pat on the back from all of them. Especially his dad. And that they'd all be in his corner for whatever fallout the school tried to rain down on Eth about it. Because Erin suspected with some of these kids, it was going to be Ethan standing up for himself – in a brutal and physical way – that finally put them in their place and got them to leave him the hell alone.
"You hurting today because of a flare or because someone got in your face again?" Jay put to him at the look. Ethan just shrugged at him. And Jay reached and pulled slightly at her brother's collar, his finger grazing against a bruise on his collarbone that Erin hadn't spotted. But she'd been so frustrated with Olive's call and then Hank's call and then Ethan himself that she hadn't really been looking at him. She'd mostly been trying not to be another person getting in his face and biting his head off. Hence them in break time. Their time-out corners. "What's this?"
"Nothing …," Ethan said pulling away from him and pushing himself a little down farther away on his ass.
"Doesn't look like nothing," Jay said sternly.
"My locker stuck," he muttered under his breath. "I pulled it too hard. It hit me. It's the side I can't see so good."
Jay just stared at him. He wasn't buying it. But even from across the room, Erin wasn't buying it either. But she was still forcing herself to not go over and take a look at the bruise herself and interrogate him more. Sometimes browbeating him did jack-all to dealing with anything.
But Jay let it go. Instead, he pushed aside some of the Hot Wheels and Duplo and plastic tracks that Ethan had all over the table. The tracks were Jay's fault. He'd decided to go out and buy all that orange plastic and had spent hours building tracks down every fucking level of stairs in their house with both the boys. And then racing the cars down them. Apparently that was an activity that was universally appealing to boys. It didn't seem to matter if they were a toddler or a teenager or a man in their thirties or fifties. All of them had participated.
Henry loved it. Or at least he loved going up and down the stairs. He hadn't quite mastered putting the Hot Wheel onto the track or realizing that the car was going down it – and down, down, down it. If anything, he usually got upset when the car got taken from him to send flying down the roadway. Or he'd try to do it himself and end up knocking over the flimsy tracks, which would get Ethan frustrated. Or he'd want to put some of his Mighty Wheels or Smart Wheelies or Paw Patrol cars or anything much bigger than a diecast on and they would just fall over or collapse the course too.
A slinky was a much better bet with Henry. Not making it go. But watching it in awe. And climbing after it. And then picking it up and turning it into a tangled mess as he flung it around and shrieked about having not picked it all up. He just liked that he got to go up and down the stairs. And he loved even more that Jay and his uncle and Hank seemed absolutely fine with doing it on repeat for a whole afternoon. Even better that her and Jay had way more stairs than Popa's house. She was pretty sure the only reason Henry liked them was because the townhouse had stairs. Otherwise, all bets would be off.
"Think you're supposed to be working on homework," Jay said as he unzipped the package of Bananagrams and dumped them into the space he'd cleared on the table. "Not playing with toys."
"That is homework," Ethan said defensively.
Jay reached across him and pulled the spelling sheet he had in front of him over for him to look at.
"How's that?" he asked, as he started flipping and sorting out the letters.
Erin knew he was pulling out the letters for that week's word list. Because, much like math and science, they'd come to accept that Ethan learned better when he had props. When the learning what tactile. You couldn't just hand him a sheet of paper or give him an assignment on the iPad or computer and expect him to be able to fill it out in short order – let alone understand it. He needed to be able to touch it and play with it and rearrange it and see different examples and patterns and work through trial and error. So word games, math games, puzzle games. They were starting to look like their house was a learning resource center. Or at least a satellite one. Hank's once-den looked worse.
"I have to work on my science fair project," Ethan said. "Dad says I'm not allowed to do dinosaurs or space or robots or circuitry. Because it wouldn't be trying hard enough. So I thought maybe I'd do cars or Hot Wheels or something. Like which ones go fastest down ramps."
Jay gave a little nod and allowed him a small look of approval. "You know that's all math, right?" Eth squinted at him. But Jay nodded at him and grabbed the practice test that he'd gone over with. "You're going to have to figure out equations like this to prove your hypothesis."
Ethan got a worse look on his face. "I don't want to work on that right now. Erin said we were taking a break."
Jay shrugged and went back to the letter flipping. "Then let's work on this," he told him sternly. "Doesn't look like you've done much and I think you should be able to have this done before dinner easy."
Eth let out a sigh and gave him a pathetic look. But Jay completely ignored it. He just lined up a few letters and then gestured at the rest of the pile he'd collected. "Fill in the blanks."
Eth gazed at him like if he gave him enough of a puppy dog look that he'd be left alone to watch the end of the movie. But Jay didn't fall for the puppy dog looks very well. At least not of those variety. If he was kicked down and hurting, it'd be a different story. Slightly stoned and whiney – didn't earn much sympathy. It especially wouldn't that night when Jay likely wanted to be doing a whole lot of nothing himself too. He'd likely happily sit and stare at the television and try to zone out if they were there alone. But they weren't.
The kid took the hint as Jay kept his eyes in his firm, demanding stare. And Eth turned glumly to the letters. He gazed at the few Jay had selected and then started pushing around in the pile in a little search.
"It's physics," Jay said as Ethan did that, getting a little glance. "Your science project. Force, velocity, gravity. It's going to be affected by the weight of the cars and the angle of the ramp." Ethan gave him another shy look. "It's a good idea."
A smile tugged at Eth's face but then faded. "But Erin says you guys are taking alone time this weekend."
Jay made a quiet noise at that and gave her a glance. But she offered him a shrug. It was a given. They needed it. Jay deserved it. They both did.
"Yea," Jay provided. "Likely."
"All weekend?" E put to him.
"Ahh …," Jay hesitated and cast her another look. But she raised her eyebrow at him. Because she'd leave it up to him. But it wasn't often that they got a totally Ethan free weekend. And after a week like he'd had – he might be smart to take it. If he didn't, she'd remember it the next time he expressed displeasure about the when and the how they found time for themselves and their relationship. The debate on whether they were putting Ethan or her side of the family ahead of the family they were supposed to be making for themselves. Ahead of their relationship. Or he just gave off the vibe that he'd really rather have a bed-in than deal with her little brother. "Don't you have Robotics this weekend?" he tried.
"No," Ethan hissed. Because it was something Jay would've likely known – that Ethan would've expected him to know. But Ethan didn't know that Jay had spent the past three days undercover – and that was why he'd been MIA from his life. It wasn't just double shifts. And it wasn't like they'd had the time to talk about much outside of work and the case. Or that Jay would be checking the calendar or getting updates on the pending weather system that was supposed to blow off the lake that weekend. All of that would be about the farthest thing from his mind.
"Don't you like spending Saturdays with your dad on the weekends you both have off…?" he tried instead.
Ethan sighed at him. "Dad says he has to go do lots of paperwork on Saturday. So I have to go sit with him there. And that means I'll have to do my experiment there too," he whined ever so slightly. "Can't I just come over and do it here? So you can help?"
Jay reached and screwed around the letters he had, Eth working with, pointing to the vocabulary worksheet, in a clear but quiet order for her brother to write down whatever it was that he'd just worked out with the game tiles. He watched him do the writing, glancing around his hand and starting to arrange the next set of letters. These ones in a grouped pile. All the letters for the word would be there that time. Eth would just have to figure out which word it was.
"Eth," Jay said as the kid started to work away again and he again watched his efforts carefully – near scientifically. "It's been a really long week. I think I'd really like to just take some downtime on Saturday. Spend some time with your sister. No offence."
Ethan gave him a more pathetic look at that. "But I finished reading Prisoner of Azkaban this week," he tried. "And we need to watch the movie."
Erin got another little glance at that. And she again cocked her eyebrow at him – leaving it up to him to decide how he wanted to play through that. Because maybe when he was being the target of the requests, he'd start to appreciate a little bit more how much it could suck sometimes to pick between the two of them. How you felt like you were letting him down – no matter how much you wanted that 'you time' and 'free time' back in your life. No matter how much you both needed and deserved time to yourselves and for your relationship. But how much of a struggle it could be to carve any of that out anymore. Even though they'd both tried to start framing it for themselves as some sort of practice round for when they started their family. If it was this hard – and exhausting – with her little brother and occasionally babysitting Henry, she didn't want to imagine what be like when it was their own child – or children.
It made her appreciate even more how Hank and Camille had some how managed to juggle it. How there had still been family time. How each of them got special, individual moments and time with mom and dad. And how they managed to maintain their own marriage and relationship through it all. Despite the fights and arguments and disagreements and loud (or whispered) basement and back porch discussions they had. They'd waded through it and figured it out too. And they'd made it work. And somehow, for the most part, to a teenager's eyes they'd made it seem relatively easy. Or at least manageable. There were times now – with Camille gone and even more since Ethan had come home and been diagnosed and with having Henry back in the city – that Erin didn't know how they did it. How they'd kept it together. And the family together. And she had an even greater appreciation for the rather significant – and kind and unselfish – role that Camille had played in all that. For them. For her. For Ethan and for Justin. And for Hank.
"Well …," Jay hesitated again. "Maybe when you're dad comes around to get you tonight, we can see about trying to get an invite to Sunday dinner …," he suggested, keeping her eyes and she allowed a nod of approval at that compromise.
It was reasonable. And Hank liked having everyone over for dinner on Sunday anyways. This would save her from that guilt trip and from deciding whether she should even feel guilty about not wanting to attend that every week. If she really felt like sitting down for a meal as a family a handful of times as a month played any significant role in their healing and moving on. But the thing was, it did. Or it was. Or at least it seemed to. Because, it was something that Hank and Camille had always valued and pressed at them. Meals at the table as a family, as much as possible. Whenever possible.
And in their family counseling these past months, it'd been about the only request Hank had put forward. His big plea – or offer – on how he felt he could try to fix their relationship and mend their family. How he wanted to try to do that. How he was willing to do that. The time – outside of work and outside of shuttling Ethan back-and-forth between homes and schools – that he wanted with her, face-to-face. To try to get back some part of what they'd lost. Or to try to figure out how to be whatever they were now. The people they were now.
And in all the sessions they'd been to now, it'd been all he'd really directly asked her for. Beyond repeatedly stating that whatever their relationship was, he wanted her – and needed her – to maintain a relationship with Ethan. That Ethan needed it too.
So the Sunday dinners had been another compromise.
One that wasn't entirely terrible. They were manageable. Though, they'd become more frequently than she'd like since Olive and Henry had come back to the city. A bit of a New Year's resolution, as Hank pushed to try to have the gatherings near every Sunday. When Erin really would've preferred they be monthly at the most. Though, Jay didn't seem too bothered. He liked the food and he didn't seem to have too many qualms about sitting and watching sports in Hank's living room.
"And we can have a bit of a movie night after that," Jay said, moving his eyes back to Ethan and giving him a nod to indicate that should be the end of the conversation.
"But it's the free mini build weekend at the Lego Store too," Ethan pressed. "And some of the sets are buy one get one forty percent off."
"Mmm …," Jay acknowledged but Erin could see he was staring at the way Ethan's hands were tremoring as he manipulated the small letter tiles. Erin had seen it too. But he always tremored more when he was in pain. So she hadn't thought too much on it. Her mind had been in a lot of places that night – that weren't her brother. But clearly something had caught Jay's attention about it. "You sure you are up for a Mini Build this weekend?" he put to Eth.
Her brother gave him a little glance. "I was sorta thinking that I haven't used my birthday coupon yet for double allowance. And if it's real double allowance and not just you doubling what Dad gives me and if we used my Lego money this month, that'd be like … fifty … four dollars this week. And with the sale, I could probably buy a bunch of the little City car sets. And then I can like customize all my cars for the experiment. That'd be probably even better than Hot Wheels. Maybe it'd even win."
Jay gave a little nod. "Lot of money for a science fair project, bud," he allowed. "And might not want to have Lego out on display at the science fair. Might walk off on you."
"But so might Hot Wheels," E said, reaching for his pencil to note something on his paper. His hand was clearly jumping at that point and Erin could tell from the way Jay was gazing at it that whatever he was putting down on the paper must be near intelligible – even for Ethan.
"But you've got a ton of Hot Wheels," Jay said. "Could use old ones or ones that aren't favorites. Or could just go over to the store and pick up a new five-pack for the experiment for about ten-times cheaper than Lego. But … it's your cash."
Ethan gave him a glance. "But it's Thursday," he said. "So my marks got uploaded. And I know I did pretty good this week. And it's been a month since our last Lego trip."
Jay nodded and moved his eyes away from the hopping hand to Eth's hopeful face. "You got your tablet in your bag? Check your portal. See just how good you did." Ethan nodded eagerly, a smile creeping on his lips again. He moved like he was going to stand, but Jay tapped at the word tiles again and looked to her instead. "Er, did you check his pill box?"
She shook her head. Because he should've taken his last pills of the afternoon at Olive's. All that should be left for her was his injection and his bedtime pills – which hopefully Hank would have picked him up to take care of. But, if not – which would piss her off – they had a set upstairs for the nights he slept over.
She stopped her efforts to stir the dry and wet ingredients together and rounded the counter island to where he'd left his backpack on one of the stools. But his body language across the room told her what she was going to find there.
"Ethan, you're supposed to be taking your medication," she scolded, as she dug his pillbox out of a zipper pocket and gave him an upset look.
"Olive didn't remind me," Ethan protested weakly.
She raised her eyebrow at him in annoyance and grabbed the bottle of water he'd left there too. Based on the weight of it, he hadn't been hydrating that well that day either. That would explain at least part of why he was in extra pain.
"Olive shouldn't have to remind you," she told him firmly, as she yanked the iPad out of the bag. She brought all the items over to her brother. "It's supposed to be in your phone. You're thirteen. And you're supposed to be managing this medication on your own."
He gave her a hurt look as she handed him the medication and the bottle. He fumbled around with getting the cap twisted off with his tremor. Jay took it from him and did it for him, giving it back.
"I just forgot," Eth muttered. "The medicine the nurse gave me makes me feel all stoned."
Erin just shook her head at him and gestured at his shaking hands as he got the pills into his mouth. "And this is what happens when you don't take that medication on time," she said. He gave her an embarrassed look. He wasn't going to argue. He knew. So he just took a sip of the water. "More," she instructed to him. He should be drinking a whole glass. Not just sipping them down. He listened, though, and took another two gulps.
She retreated back to the kitchen. Leaving Jay again to hang out with her little brother. Letting him check on this awesome week that he'd supposedly had. That he wanted to show off to Jay and earn his praise and approval and the little reward system they'd established to slog through all the days and weeks and months that weren't so awesome. That little bit of time and little bit of money – but the memories and togetherness that Ethan seemed to value so much that sometimes it hurt Erin to know that her brother had established that with Jay but hadn't managed to with his own brother. Yet, she was glad he did have it with Jay. For both of them. And it wasn't something he would ever do anything to take away from them – even if it meant that Jay decided he was going to give up an hour or two of their alone time on Saturday to take Ethan to the fucking Lego store.
Because managing her brother – it was skill set that he'd become far too good at. And in a way that was oddly attractive. If she didn't know what she was getting with Jay before – watching his interactions with Ethan reminded her again and again. It reminded her that they were a team. It reminded her that he was a sweet, kind-hearted and self-sacrificing man. And it reminded her of how he could be goofy and a little boy himself – that some of that was still in him. And it reminded her – showed her – that for whatever failings she thought she might have as a mother, that he'd be there to help carry the load and clean it up and make sure that the kid was cared for and didn't get away with murder. That he'd be an amazing father. Because he was an amazing partner and friend. Not just to her – but to this little person that he didn't have to be any of those things, but to whom he'd become that. Friend, mentor, tutor, big brother.
And how could she not love that. How could she not want to keep that in her life. And why wouldn't she feel guilty about wanting to keep that all to herself and not share it with others. Or to see what kind of little person they could create between the two of them – genes, nature, nurture, personalities, and parenting styles. It'd probably be a pretty great little person.
Especially if they had Jay's eyes. Even his ones like today. When they were hurt and distant and reeling. Because he was still there. He was still present and he still cared. And he'd bend over backwards to make sure those around him – the ones he was responsible for – were cared for and protected. No matter how exhausted and broken he was.
And no matter how exhausted and broken he was – he was loved. And respected. And valued. Likely be more people than he wanted to accept or acknowledged.
AUTHOR NOTE: Your readership, feedback, comments and reviews are much appreciated.