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.

Voight gave the bar a brief scan. Didn't have to look long to spot Halstead. The guy had claimed a seat over near one of the televisions and was pretty slumped at the table staring at the Hawks gave up above. Was solo at the moment but even the casual glance around the place confirmed that there were some women hanging around at the sports dive likely looking for the lonely, the desperate, or the plain ol' fuck-anyone variety. Thing was that even though Halstead had the looks to get that kind of attention, his body language seemed to manage to keep most people – not just women – giving him well enough space. Try to talk to the guy and he didn't want to talk to you, and it wasn't just the body language you got. But Voight could appreciate that skill set.

Wasn't sure he could appreciate the bar his presence had been requested at. A fucking hole. Imagined that's the way Halstead liked it, though. Even though most of his crew seemed to frequent Molly's, didn't get the sense that Erin or Jay had any particular affinity with it – beyond it being a familiar place to blow off system with people they knew after a day or case. But, if this was Halstead's definition of a decent place to put a few back, had to wonder about the guy. Or what this was about.

Voight definitely knew he didn't much appreciate getting asked to some sort of covert chit-chat with the guy. Was looking for trouble. Likely was about some kind of trouble. And on the nights he didn't have E under his wing, could think of a hell of a lot more pressing things to do with his time than stare at Halstead. But the guy didn't ask a lot of him. Not verbally. Gave him enough fucking attitude to make up for it, though. So, he'd come over. Even though he had his suspicions this was just going to be Halstead bitching and moaning about the psych paperwork having not landed on his desk yet. So he couldn't approve him back up for duty. A bit of bullshit. But some bullshit wasn't worth getting in a pissing match over. Other battles that would need fighting.

Guy didn't seem in too big of hurry to see him anyway. Sitting with his back to the door. So Hank went and got a drink of his own – even though Halstead should've been buying for this fucking powwow – and grabbed the proffered dish of over-salted and overly stale looking pretzels and headed over to the table.

Jay straightened a bit as he slid the dish of pretzels in front of him. Looked like he'd already gone through his own. Briefly looked eyes, as Voight settled onto his stool, giving the TV off at the opposite side of the bar a glance to check the score before giving the younger man a look.

"Paperwork's not back yet," he rasped at him and fished a pretzel out of the bowl and gave it a single crunch. That confirmed that it was a fucking twig – more than a pretzel should be – and reaffirmed that he didn't have much of an appetite. Put it down and shoved it and the rest of the bowl aside.

"So what? I'm off rooster for a third day?" Jay said with mild annoyance. Voight just shrugged. "For knocking around a fucking chair?"

Just smacked at him. Knew the kid understood more about what was going on than that. Halstead knew how volatile the city was these days. Knew what the relationship was like between cops and the public. Knew that any time anything came up between a person of color – didn't matter it was some mouthy little Latino girl who'd just killed another little white girl – a white cop, all the I's and T's were going to get dotted and crossed anymore. It was crackdown time and they were all under the microscope. Was making it pretty hard to do the job effectively when you couldn't so much as look at one of these perps or suspects the wrong way, without some complaint getting filed about you and the Ivory Tower deciding it warranted a full fucking investigation into things. Everyone was covering their asses. Thing was – the asses they should be actually protecting – were losing out in the process.

It was all just a whole lot of red tape and hot air – protecting the people who didn't deserve it. And jamming up the real jobs who could do the job the way it was meant to be done. But there was only so much they could do about it. Could go play cowboy. But that wasn't too bright with the kind of eyes they had on them these days either. Just get them jammed up even more and make doing the job even harder.

Case like this – better to just wait it out. Let the bureaucrats do their thing and wait for the paperwork to make its way back through the pipeline with the rest of the sludge. It'd get there when it got there. But, Voight would admit that in a fucking case like this – a really minor infraction of anything that could be pretty fucking easily dismissed when they looked at the situation – that it was taking so fucking long to get one of his guys back. Either was a hold up on whoever had to sign of on it – fucking Crowley – or it was that Halstead had gone off on the fucking shrink. Set himself up for some sort of anger management course or sensitivity retraining bullshit. Slow the show down even more. Piss the guy off more. But was going to hope he was smarter than that. Had found himself in enough of these situations and dealt with enough shrinks to know how to navigate the fucking psych review to get her fucking name on the little dotted line so he could get back in the bullpen.

So all Voight provided to his latest little tantrum was, "I'll call you as soon as I get the sign-off on you coming back to duty."

Jay made an even more annoyed sound at that and took a look swig out of his beer, his eyes drifting back up to the game and just glinting with his distaste. But Hank let some of his own distaste dance through his, as he took a sip from his Manhattan.

"You make me come all the way over here to tell you that," he graveled at him, as he brought his drink down.

Halstead made another sound and shifted his eyes to him.

"Where Erin and E at?" Hank put to him instead. Let some of his displeasure at the change in his evening plans – being pulled away from work when he didn't have to be sitting with his son doing homework that night – shine through.

Jay made a dismissive noise and looked back at the game. Something must've caught his eye, based on the sounds that erupted from some of the guys around them. But the look on Jay's face clearly showed he missed it, and his eyes drifted back to his.

"Went to get some new Hot Wheels for his science project. Arts and craft stuff for the display," Halstead allowed flatly.

Hank grunted. Appreciated that, actually. Wouldn't mind surprising the experiment that E had decided he was going to give a go, but wasn't much interested in having to collect the supplies or manage cutting out and gluing shit to a piece of cardboard for all to see. Not to say that Erin picking up the stuff with the kid wouldn't mean he still didn't get to be the one stuck doing that supervision job. Arts and crafts – he was not. Though, with the way E managed scissors anymore, he knew he'd likely end up helping cut whatever shit he needed cut out out. Otherwise the display would pretty much look like the dog had eaten his homework. Add the whole science fair back-board crap – and, really, even the experiments – to the list of bullets he'd dodged when his wife had been alive. Or he'd just been real lucky in having a wife who was as scientist and wanted her kids to project's to at least reflect some knowledge and effort. And, she thought she was good at the whole arts and craft thing too. Voight wasn't sure he'd agree on her talent level in that area – but he would give Camille that she tried hard.

And, these days, with just him and E, he was discovering more and more just how much weight Camille silently carried in their family in dealing with the kids' daily crap. Probably more than her share. Made him feel a little guilty some days. Selfish. Or blind. Or just plain stupid. Like it added to arguments out of his kids' mouths that he wasn't such a hot father and hadn't been present enough in their lives. He'd tried. But, the job …

"Appreciate that," Hank offered verbally to Halstead.

Because he knew that even with all the shit he was now managing himself as a single father – the eye-opener it'd really become with Eth back in the city and in middle school and charging toward high school and having activities and extra-circulars – he wasn't carrying the full load of it. Erin and Jay did a lot.

She'd done a lot before they lost Justin. But in aftermath of all that and Erin distancing himself from him and her and Jay taking on Ethan a couple nights a week all on their own – they were doing more. Fully acknowledged that he might be a single parent but that he still had some co-parents on the scene. They helped out a lot. And in some things, he knew too, that E preferred that it be Erin or Halstead that be helping him. They approached things differently. And some things they just knew more about. Generation Gap wasn't quite as much.

Jay just shrugged, though. Whole lot like Erin did. The 'it's not a big deal' line he got a lot. Which he also appreciated. Because with family, it shouldn't be a big deal. Should just be the way it is. What it is. But still knew it was more than more and more than some. It was a burden. Probably more than the guy knew he was buying into at the time – but he'd stuck it out.

"Erin wanted to go look for some sort of storage boxes anyways," he allowed and took another swig of his beer. "For the closet."

"Think she's figured out how to use a closet, does she?" Hank put flatly.

He'd always given Erin some shit about how fucking messy she was. Knew it wasn't her fault. Not in the disaster she was raised in. The shitholes that Bunny had bumped her around. Little more than fucking flop-houses sometimes. But had sure tried to teach her some cleanliness after they'd brought her home.

Her mess didn't exactly jive with his standards and expectations in the house. But it didn't seem to matter how many arguments they had about it. Fucking restrictions of privileges until she cleaned up her room and put her laundry away and picked up the trail of crap she left from the front room all the way upstairs. Fucking reduction in allowance. Not being allowed to go out until she picked up after herself. Extra chores to clean up after everyone. She just couldn't seem to learn. Or just really didn't give a shit.

Been a lot of fights about it the first year she'd been with them. They'd just have right at it. Especially her and Camille. The laundry issue. Clothes on the floor. Couldn't tell what was clean or what was dirty because she wouldn't use the fucking hamper. And an argument every week for her to actually go down and put her laundry through the machine. Getting her to actually hang up and iron her school uniform? All bets were off on that. After she fell out with the fucking rich snobs, she decided she just didn't care if she went into Ignatius a wrinkled mess. Even detention and suspension and joining the fucking Saturday Breakfast Club didn't seem to resolve that. And if you did her laundry yourself and left it to her to just fold and put away – hang it up in the fucking closet – it wouldn't happen.

For all the open door policy they had in the house, there'd been times where the Battle of the Wills just got fucking tiresome and it was easier to just close her bedroom door so they didn't have to look at it. Usually Camille that reached that point. Hank didn't mind coming home and having a stand-off with her. Though, sometimes it'd come with an order from Camille to "go and handle the situation with your girl". There was truth in that. Erin was quickly his girl. He managed her better than Camille. Always had. Though, her getting labeled as "your girl" didn't much help their developing relationship. It was hard enough given that Erin had a mother than she knew and didn't exactly trust mothers because of it. Harder still because it added to the tension of Erin not quite being sure that Camille liked her or wanted her there. And it never was exactly that. It's just complicated when you drag a kid home with baggage – and you've only given your wife so much opportunity to have a say in the matter. But even with all that, Erin was just as much Camille's girl as she was Hank's. By the end – she was just their daughter. The oldest child – their girl – in the family.

But even then his girl could stand-off. She'd toe the line just enough. Maybe more back then with all her teenaged guts and indignation. Combined with her fair share of angst, betrayal, mistrust and anxiety – all boiling over into one tough little cookie that had come into their home. Erin – his girl – was a handful to handle.

You really had to put the fear of the Lord in her – have her feeling like she might get booted to the curb – to make her stand-down much. And, him and Cami had a pretty basic understanding that with a kid like Erin, they couldn't constantly be hanging that over her head. Would've been a veil threat anyway. They took her in. They didn't have any plans to kick her out.

It hadn't been until Camille had wanted to drag home this antique dresser from her parents' place that they'd seen a bit of a turn around with the disaster that was Erin's room. Been a giant fucking pain in the ass to get that thing through the front door – let alone up the stairs. But they managed. And dropped it in Erin's room. The kid didn't seem too thrilled about inheriting it into her space at the time. But suddenly with having the drawers – she actually used them. Clothes started going in them. Some of her other crap started to get buried away – or hidden away, depending on where they were in their trust cycle and how often he needed to be tossing her room to make sure she was keeping up her end of the bargain in that.

And it'd been somewhere in that month or so of her bedroom actually starting to look like a bedroom again – and not a fucking compactor room – that he'd realized part of the problem was the closet. Or rather, Erin's relationships with closest. That closets hadn't been a place to store clothes for her. It'd been a fucking hiding spot – away from Bunny and away from some of the bullshit and people that her so-called mother had brought into her home and into her life.

Erin hadn't wanted to be having to go in and out of that space every day to get her clothes and things. It wasn't a place she wanted to hide herself – or her few belongings or the extra clothing and shit that him and Camille kept stocking her up on – because she'd come to them with a backpack and a garbage back stuffed with little more than rags. They'd had to wardrobe her. Had to buy her school supplies. Been the first time that Erin had much of anything. Or received much of anything on a semi-regular basis. Or had an allowance coming her way weekly – if she behaved and earned it – that provided an income that she could use for her own shit, not food for the family and rent and utilities. It'd been a whole new ball game in figuring out how to manage that. How do you not spoil a kid who has nothing. How do you not overwhelm them when even just providing the necessities and the occasional treats. CDs, books, movies. An alarm clock. A little stereo system. New sneakers for back to school. And new boots in the winter. Coats. Magazines and newspapers coming into the house weekly. Cable television. Regular internet access. Movie rentals. Working pens and functioning vehicles. Food on the table – daily. And a roof over her head.

She'd gone from just having that sanctuary of a closet – to lock herself into and try to escape everything Bunny was and what she'd created for them – to having a whole house as a safe place. A safe space. She had no intention of having to revisit a closet ever again – even if it was just to hang up her laundry and pull out her school uniform each morning.

Coming to that realization had made some things easier. Sure had made the fights fewer and farther between about the neatness of her bedroom. And with time and age, Erin had started to use the closet more. Started to show a bit more cleanliness. Didn't really start to settle into it – at more 'normal' levels, if there's such a thing – until she got her condo.

And, Voight would say she'd matured a bit more with keep things clean and neat since the move into the townhouse. But that might be partially Halstead's doing. Guy was a bit of a neat freak even by Voight's standards. The military in him showing in that. Spartan lifestyle. Not too many possessions or much clutter. Pick up and go. What you could fit in a duffle. But you could still sort of see areas of the house that were "Jay's" versus "Erin's". Or in the very least who was responsible for the cleaning and tidying of certain spaces.

One of Erin's spaces was definitely the walk-in closet up in the master bedroom. Had only been allowed up there once when he'd finally been allowed a grand tour of the place. Taken a while to take the point she was willing to show off her digs to him. But they'd got there. And, really only needed to see the master bedroom once anyway. More than enough. And more than enough to prove that Erin still didn't know how – or like – using a closet much. Was a fucking disaster zone in there.

She'd brushed it off as they were still unpacking. He didn't buy it. He'd raised her. He knew what she was like. And, beyond that, could see that Jay had his shit all set up – nice and neat – down in the one corner, while Erin's stuff was just draped over all the rest of the junk piled in there. Still like she'd never learned how to use a hanger.

"She better have it figured out," Jay grumbled and made a little gesture with his beer. "She had me putting together some closet organizer all day. Good use of my time …"

Voight shrugged at him. "Not the right guy to be complaining to about a honey-do list."

He knew how his daughter was. Knew how any relationship was. Knew how it worked when you had days off work. They sure as fuck weren't days off work. Not after you had a wife. But if Halstead wanted to vent about that – a lot of other young guys his age that he could vent at. Didn't need to listen to him vent about his daughter. He'd put in a hell of a lot more years dealing with her and her quirks than Halstead had. Yet. A hell of a lot more years in a relationship and marriage than the kid had experience with yet too.

Jay gave a little sigh and glanced back at the game. Whole encounter felt off. Guy was fidgety. Made Hank wonder if some other shoe was about to fall. If Halstead was going to admit that he'd gone on a rant at the shrink and had been told some recommendation was getting put in that would have him left on ass-duty or completely out of the bullpen for a bit.

"That all?" Hank put to him. Because his patience was thin. Could use the time for other things. Didn't mind doing some minor chit-chat with Halstead when he was at the house or they were playing Pass Around with Magoo. But didn't much feel the need to be sitting having a drink with him. If he wanted to do that, he'd issue the invitation himself. That was a better deal in his books. As far as he was concerned it was the way it should be. Don't need to play buddy-buddy with the son-in-law when the son-in-law is one of your guys at work.

"Ah …," Jay allowed and met his eyes more directly. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

Hank smacked at him. Already had a lot of opportunity to do that. That was obvious. But if he was putting it off this much, had to wonder what was going on. Halstead was usually more straight up than this. So he didn't think it'd be that he was looking to be transferred out. Didn't think it'd likely be that he wanted to talk about that money from Camille's insurance that Erin refused to take. Though, he'd be pretty fucking happy to have that conversation. Thing was it was a conversation that had to include Erin. Wouldn't have it any other way.

"It's about Ethan," Jay put to him flatly.

Hank shrugged. "What about him?" End of the twice-weekly evenings they took him? Supposed that'd be understandable.

Jay gave a little sigh and stared at him and then took a quick swig of his drink. "I'm about to betray his trust here," he mumbled.

Hank pressed his tongue into his cheek at that. The kid starting in with the drugs again. Hadn't tossed his room in a while. Knew the kid had expressed some interest in getting on the medical weed. Wasn't interested in that for his kid. At all. Wasn't going to happen.

Jay let out a little breath, flaring his nostrils. "He's had a lot of bruises lately," the guy said.

Hank grunted. Knew that. Was his father. Saw him in various states of undress trudging to-and-from the can nearly daily. Helped him out with his injections nearly daily. Had him at all his medical appointments.

Jay just started talking urgently with his hands, though. "And I know Eth is as clumsy as fuck with everything going on. And I know that the chemo trail leaves him bruising easier…"

"But?" Hank put to him directly.

Jay sighed again and broke eye contact for an instant but then came right back to him. "I had him at the pool after school today. Getting changed, he was fumbling around with his towel. He dropped it. He has bruising on his thighs. Like bad bruising on his thighs."

Hank smacked as he processed that. But Jay just kept looking at him.

"I said something to him about it. He said it's from the harness at rock climbing. And I know he bruises easily. But I've had on a lot of harnesses over the years and I've had some good jolts down and I've never come away with bruising like that," he put firmly.

Hank looked down into his drink. Put his finger against the one ice cube and brought it up to his mouth, settling back some of the liquid across his tongue and down his throat. He put the glass down and looked at Halstead. Guy clearly wanted him to say something but didn't know what to say. If anything, he was fighting to keep his ass on that stool and not go flying over to the rectory right then and pound on the door until Caruso opened it. Shouldn't do that, though. Because he might fucking punch Frank in the process. Can't go punching priests. Even if you grew up with the fucker.

"I'm trying not to get too worked up about it because I know his platelets are all fucked up on—"

"It's not the platelets," Hank rasped.

Jay allowed a little nod and gazed at his beer. "I said something to Will. Just about bruising, generally. He said we should take him in just to get some updated labs run, just in case."

Hank grunted. Made sense. He would get that scheduled. But would be surprised if something as extensive as what Jay was claiming to have seen was just from some wonky blood cells. And, if it was, that'd be a whole different mess he didn't exactly want to think about having to wade into with his son. Not that he wanted to deal with this fucking escalated bullying situation either. But maybe it was better to deal with it now. Maybe they could get it rectified before he had to toss his boy to the sharks in high school.

Jay twisted his beer on the table. "He asked me the other day what the choking game is," he nodded at him seriously. "It's when—"

"I know what it is," Hank rasped firmly.

Jay gave another little nod. "I gave off too much of a vibe when he asked. It upset me. I attended a scene … a kid … when I was on Patrol …," he shook his head and gazed at the wall for a moment. But then found his eyes again. "He wouldn't cop to who had told him about it or if he'd been asked to play … or been forced to play. But he's had some marks on his collar bone …"

"Seen them," Hank allowed. "Low for that."

Jay made a sound of acknowledgement. "But if he didn't know what it was – some kid has likely been talking about it. And if kids are talking about it, some of them are doing it. Or going to do it. And it's only a matter of time before …"

Hank nodded. "I'll take care of that," he provided. Looked like he'd be talking to Caruso about more than the bullying situation going on with his son. "Erin know what's going on? That you're here right now?"

Jay made a little noise and took a sip of his beer. "She wanted us to talk to him again about the choking game. See if we could get out of him if it's from some kid at school or if it's out of RIC."

Hank grunted at that. Be a fucking disaster if the kids at RIC were into that. But he'd fucking hope that those kids had dealt with enough disability, that they wouldn't risk life and limb for some stupid high.

"I didn't have a chance to tell her about the bruises on his thighs," he admitted. There was some hesitancy in his voice. "She … doesn't want me to blow Eth's situation at Ignatius out of proportion." He took another long swig, gazing at the TV until he brought it back down. "I didn't have the best experience at school when I was about Eth's age."

Hank just grunted again and rose from his stool. Jay eyed him. "Look, I'm not trying to go behind Erin's back or … imply you're missing something."

"I know," Hank said.

"I just want to get it all stopped in its tracks before something worse happens," he spat out.

Hank nodded. "Me too," he acknowledged and gave the guy's shoulder a grip. Halstead still never looked too comfortable when he did that. Any sort of touch – even so much as a shoulder squeeze, bicep grip, back pat or a handshake. "Glad you let me know."

Jay just gave him a nod but eyed his hand on his shoulder. So Voight dropped it a way and gestured at the door. "Can't take that long to do a Target run, can it?"

Jay allowed another little sound of acknowledgement and tipped up the last of his beer at the clear invitation to leave. Got up. They'd get the hell out of that hole. So they could go and look down another. Maybe work at a bit together pulling his boy out of it before he got stuck in the muck. Before it was too fucking late. And Magoo started looking at shoulder squeezes, bicep grips, back pats and handshakes the same way Halstead did. And that wasn't something Voight wanted for his boy. Eth was bruised and scarred up enough as it was.

AUTHOR NOTE:

Tracking menstrual cycles can mean a lot of things and done for a lot of reasons. It was a chapter from Voight's POV. He doesn't know what it all meant. He's not Erin.

And even if the implication was that Jay and Erin were trying to get pregnant — that doesn't mean they will be successful. Nor does it mean you should expect several chapters around them discussing if they are going to actively try nor them actively trying.

Please keep in mind these are scenes. So It Goes doesn't have a planned or set plot. It's not specifically up to or toward something.

And, yes, I will likely (eventually) write a couple chapters related to the Florida trip, mostly because I think Ethan would be hilariously cute in that situation.

You readership, reviews, feedback and comments are appreciated.