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.
Hank stooped a bit and gave E's fucking mutt's muzzle a light knock. The damn dog had been ignoring him from where he'd been sitting on the deck, giving him some whistles, stomps and barks of his own to try to get him to stop working on churning up the fucking garden he'd spent the better part of the weekend turning on his own. Didn't need the damn dog's help now – especially when it meant that the fucking thing would be wanting to get muddy paws all over his wife's hardwood when he didn't have the time now to be working on getting that mopped up.
Fucking dog was doing a real dog job at trying to test its boundaries with Magoo not around. Being a bit of a tween all in his own right. Sulky and moody and coming looking for attention with his main squeeze away. But also not listening to a fucking word you said and doing his damn best to ignore you every time you tried to lay down the hammer.
Apparently Bear thought he could really push the limits that evening since he was on the phone and had company. Mutt thought he wasn't watching. Or hadn't realized that the fucking phone was mobile and he could get off hi ass and go and kick his ass anytime he wanted.
"Get out of there," Voight pressed at him more firmly, Bear giving him a surprised look that he had actually come over. But he quickly darted away. All of fucking five feet until he bowed down and barked and did that little fucking hop of his. Clearly thought that now he'd earned a playmate out of his misbehavior.
"What?" Voight heard in his ear, though.
"Not you," he muttered, snapping again at Bear. "Go lay down," he ordered again and pointing up at the porch up with Al, who had long ago stopped paying attention to the show as Hank sat and grunted in half-listening to E motoring in his ear for the past fifteen minutes. "Your mutt is being a pain in the ass," he informed his son.
Another example of him being as bad as having another kid. And just like a kid, he was going to have to get him to spool down before the damn thing settled for the night. Probably have to take him for a walk to manage that when Al decided he was going to take leave. But didn't look like that would happen for a bit. But Hank got the sense that Al wasn't going home much these days at all. And he could understand that too.
But E apparently wasn't listening to him either. Or really didn't care much about hearing about his mutt that night. Bit of a change of pace seeing as so far on this trip he'd had to hold the damn phone up on FaceTime so Magoo could see his dog. And fucking talk to him. Fucking mutt had licked the screen of his phone. So apparently he appreciated getting to talk to his boy – even if Voight didn't much appreciate the stupidity of letting a dog talk on FaceTime or the clean-up of dog spit off his device.
Kid just started motoring again. Truth was he was going so fast and the background noise was so loud, that he wasn't even sure what E was on about. But at least he sounded like he was having a good time and a whole lot happier than he had been when they'd touched base in the morning.
Erin had called. Had thought it was just the kids checking in for a bit of a Happy Easter chat. Hadn't been that, though. Had got the first call of the day before E had even gotten handed his chocolate egg and baseball cards. Had gotten it when apparently E had gotten more than a little upset about realizing his hair was coming out again in the shower. It actually looked like it was more than a little coming out. That he'd gotten quite the bald spot and thinning going on by the time he was on the phone. But Voight had noticed it slowly thinning out for a while now. At least they got through three doses of the chemo before it reached this point. But that wasn't what E wanted to hear in the morning. Didn't want to be provided any fractured logic that it was likely the heat, the sun, the humidity, the amount of hours he had a hat on, the chlorine in the pools at the hotel and the likely much better water pressure in the hotel shower either that had accelerate the process.
It'd actually quickly turned into Ethan having a bit of a tear fest about whole other topics. J. His mom. Easter. Traditions. Not that they really had much in the way of Easter traditions in their household. But that hadn't stopped E with any other "holidays" since J had been gone either. Every fucking thing on the calendar turned into a watery-eyed rendition of how his brother wasn't there and was missing it. That was hard enough to deal with. Because Hank was feeling that too. Every fucking day. All the things his son was missing. And all the things his grandson was missing because of it. But harder was that Justin being gone had really seemed to drive home for Magoo that his mom was gone too in a very different and very real way than the kid had ever expressed before. Questions about Camille. Requests for stories and memories. Eth tossing out these little bits and pieces that he'd excavated out of his own head and asking for more. Wanting the picture to be rebuilt. It was forcing him to deal with the loss of his wife – and the impact it was having on his youngest's life – in a whole new way. And there were days it fucking stung that he was having to wade through all of that at the same time. Too many fucking losses for a lifetime.
That day, though, bit of a different dynamic. Because it wasn't just the waterworks about his brother or his mom. It was all this fucking anxiety his son had anymore and it pouring into fucking irrational fears about what "traditions" he was starting with H and Olive without him around. But E didn't need to get his shorts in a knot about it.
Because the other reality was that Olive might be back in the city and she might be letting him be a part of her and H's life. He was going to get to have a relationship with both of them. He already fucking did. He got to see his grandson at least once a week. Sometimes more. But it hadn't much changed that Olive still wasn't too comfortable around him – even though she was accepting and even asking for the help. And she was even less comfortable stepping into the house. She was OK with dropping Henry by but never really stuck around. If it was going to be a family get-together, she'd always suggest over at the condo or meeting up at a park or the community center or the open pool at E's rehab center or meeting up for a bite or a coffee at some dive – or worse some fucking joint with an indoor playground. But, he got the invite – he'd go when he could. Because this was all fucking baby steps. All fucking re-learning how to deal with his family. And his children – and grandchild. And the women in his life. And he couldn't fucking be a bull in a china shop about it anymore. Too many fucking landmines. And he couldn't risk having them all splayed across creation again.
So he had tried to set up something for Easter. Something a little more than had worked out. Had poked around for a bit of an invite over to the condo to be an early riser with Henry. Got the sense that Olive was one of these young moms who tried within her means to make things a bit of an event for H. Try to keep up with the Jones in some way. Had seen it a bit while they were on Base. Seeing it a bit again now with living in that fucking condo development with all the young professionals. A bit of an inferiority complex. Like she didn't quite fit in. Got the sense too that Olive felt that way about a lot of things. Hadn't seemed to quite fit in in her own family. Likely didn't feel like she quite fit in with them now. Likely felt a bit out of place in that condo and neighborhood. Maybe in her school and on her job. And just in the whole wide world. The city. Not so comfortable in her own skin. A bit of a misfit. But she could join the fucking club. Far as Hank was concerned that made her fit just fine.
But doing shit at the holidays for kids. Not really a keeping up with a Jones thing. Really was just a mom thing. Or a parent thing. When you could.
Remembered too that Cami had put on the plastic eggs with some fruit and crackers and cereal bit snacks for the kids when they were that little. A basket. Even if all the Bunny only ever brought was a chunk of chocolate and some kind of outdoor toy on the years they weren't living hand-to-mouth.
Figured Olive would likely at least be doing the same. Thought he might sort of like to be there to see H chasing after the eggs. Had real clear memories of both his boys as little guys running around the front room shocked by the goodies that had appears. J had been easy to please back then. Hard boiled eggs, grapes, strawberries, chopped up cantaloupe, cubes of cheese, some mini Ritz crackers and cheerios. That was all that needed to be in the damn things to be enough of a treat. To be exciting.
Still remembered the kids grabbing at the fucking eggs and scrambling over to him to help pop the stubborn plastic open when their grubby little hands couldn't manage it on their own. Would've liked to watch H do the same. Help out the same.
Because the other thing he remembered was that J had put up a real fuss that he'd opted not to drive down to Base for H's first Easter. Had decided that E needed him there at home more. That he wouldn't have been able to drag Magoo along with the fucking Robotics schedule he had last Easter weekend with it being earlier in the year and team having such a hot shot season with the big league tournaments happening over the break.
And, he knew going back in time – he still likely would've made that decision. It was the choice that made the most sense at the time. Felt it was where he was needed as a parent that weekend. But didn't change out that he'd missed his grandson's first Easter – words that J had repeatedly spit at him when he'd let his son know he wouldn't be coming. And what it really didn't change now was that he'd missed the only Easter he could've gotten to experience with his oldest boy and his grandson. And that fucking stung too. Nearly pushed him to his own misty eyes listening to E have his little breakdown that morning.
But Olive didn't seem too interested in him invading their space on Easter morning. Had sort of made it sound like she wasn't planning much with H still being so little. Or maybe just because holidays were a struggle for her.
Thing was Voight wasn't expecting much. He preferred these sorts of things not to be much. Because it wasn't about the activity or the baskets or the gifts or the food. It was just about getting time with the people you cared about. Spending the time with your family. Had always been important to him. But it was more important now. Needed to be there for them in a whole new way. Not just lip service.
So he'd floated the idea of taking her and H out for some brunch. Or to one of the community egg hunts. Let H run around a bit. But she'd again expressed that H was a little young for that. Voight didn't really agree. Knew his grandbaby was doing real well in his development. He was just blossoming. Real smart, energetic little boy. Hot-to-trot and right into his Terrible Twos early. Working at being the same sort of motor mouth as his Uncle Magoo. Was pretty sure he could've held his own at an egg hunt. Kid would've caught on. He caught onto most things pretty good. But he also knew that Olive turning down the offer to play chauffeur and pick up the check for a bit of a morning out didn't have much to do with H. Had to do with another holiday without her husband and friend. And her just not wanting to have to be stuck trying to make much chit-chat with him. Not that he tried to talk to her too much. Usually just listened. Asked some pertinent questions about how she and H were doing and any help she needed with his grandson or the bills. But didn't interrogate her. Because the last conversation he'd had with his son had been him getting told off for always making conversations some sort of interrogation. So he wouldn't do that with Olive or with H. Instead he tried to make it was comfortable as possible for Olive and that usually meant him just chatting at Henry while the little guy babbled at him with his ever growing vocabulary.
So he'd kept at it a bit. Maybe he badgered her too much. But he'd managed to wear her down. Got her to accept an invitation over for the afternoon. The promise of a meal and leftovers to take home. The sandbox ready for H so they could sit out back and not in the house. And the am invitation issued to Al and Meredith and Michelle – so that Olive wouldn't be stuck alone with him. And so Al and Meredith wouldn't be sitting in their own house of haunted memories all day either. That might've been the route Hank chose for his life – and grief – but he wasn't sure he'd advocate it for others. Knew that in a lot of ways staying in the home him and Camille built – that their kids had grown up in – hadn't been too good for any of them. But also couldn't imagine leaving.
She'd agreed to that option. Maybe someone reluctantly. And maybe just to get him to drop it. And she might've only stayed a couple hours and looked pretty awkward for the duration of the visit. But they all had. Good thing for Henry. They all basically just stared at him and let him handle the entertainment duties. He was good at that.
But hadn't let Magoo in on any of those Easter plans or realities. Wasn't what the kid needed to hear that morning. What he needed was some parenting by remote. Something that after E was home and fucking diagnosed with the M.S. that he'd internally decided he wasn't going to be doing anymore of. And as they got farther from the initial diagnosis but had waded a whole lot farther into treatment and trying to deal with the disease and the implications of chronic illness in an already brain damaged kid, he'd also come to accept that he'd be parenting Magoo for a good long time. That he was still wrapping his head around what adulthood and independence was going to look like for the kid. But, having managed to get two kids to adulthood – even if he hadn't gone his oldest boy too far into it – he'd come to really realize too that parenting didn't come with some sort of expiration date. Didn't matter the kid hit their eighteenth birthday or their twenty-first or even their twenty-fifth. They were still your kid. You were still their parent. And now with a daughter into her thirties, knew for sure at this point that parenting was a lifelong endeavor. So Magoo wasn't going to be too different then any other kid that way. But it was sure going to be a whole different dynamic in others, he suspected.
Even within all that, though, was important that he took the kid off the leash sometimes. That E got some independence. That he got to be as fucking "normal" as possible. So that was going to mean he was going to need to loosen the reigns some as he kept growing up. Let him test his boundaries and limits. Let him learn from his mistakes. Let him see what he and his mind and his body could manage. And was going to have to let him pay for it sometimes when he didn't listen to what his body and mind were telling him.
But that morning, he'd just focused on letting the kid cry it out a bit. And then helping him get his head back on straight. Reminding E that it was him who'd pushed to go on the trip now. Him who'd said he could handle it – and being away at Easter. And after he'd given him that reality check, he'd given the kid the fucking lecture again that they had to do near weekly still. That he needed to fucking listen to his body. That he needed to stop and rest. And with the blubbering and whining that he was getting in his ear, it was pretty clear that E had been pushing himself too hard on the trip. Which didn't surprise him one fucking bit. But apparently the kid still needed that pointed out to him. That he was overtired. That his body struggled in the summer – in heat and humidity – that that's exactly the kind of weather he'd found himself in. That he was dealing with a time difference. That he was on his feet and getting way more activity than he did most days. That he was two weeks out from a chemo dose. That he was eating different food than usual. That he wasn't in his usual daily or weekly routine. And he needed to listen to his body – and common sense – and fucking slow down. To take a fucking down day. To stay in the air conditioning. To take a nap. To cool off. To take his fucking pain meds and to take his fucking tremor meds and his fucking anxiety meds – and not worry about being spaced out of his head. To take the fucking zombie-like state and the induced sleep the combination created and crash out for the day. Rest up so he could enjoy the rest of the trip. And slow the fuck down so he could enjoy what he did get to do rather than running himself into the ground trying to do everything in the entire fucking state in a week.
Had seemed to listen. At least for a while. Had gotten another call later in the day – a thank you from both his kids for couple Easter treats he'd stowed off with each of them for the other. At that point they were still in the hotel room and E was a lot calmer. Erin had assured him that his talk with his son had gotten him to quit the fuss he was giving her and to take his meds. That they'd gone down to a barber shop and buzzed down the rest of boy's mother's locks and he'd stopped getting teary about his hair too. That he'd napped hard. That they'd had him down in the pool for a bit. And that they'd worked on some of his homework. And he was visibly tremoring less. But the kid was starting to get hyped up about tickets to some Star Wars thing Erin and Halstead had gotten him and it had sounded like it was going to be a late night. So, he'd laid down the law maybe a bit too harshly with Erin that she better be planning another day at the hotel after that. Because he sure as fuck wasn't going to have the time to be dealing with a teary kid in meltdown mode who was refusing to take his meds because he didn't want to be a zombie or stuck in bed for the day. Not with the whole work situation. Not now.
To say they were short-handed was likely a bit of a fucking understatement. Probably shouldn't have signed off on Burgess taking furlough. Her comp days. Telling her to take as much time as she needed. But also was the kind of thing you had to do. Family. It's everything. And he wanted his team to know they were supported in looking after the people they loved. That they needed to be allowed the flexibility to take care of things on the home front. Because it was when people couldn't do that that shit just started to spin out. If they had chaos at home – it was going to start showing up on the job. They'd be distracted. And if their heads weren't at work – then it made it a whole lot harder to make sure that all of his guys were getting home safe each night.
Better to give people some leeway with that. Really wished CPD was more supportive of its people on a whole with all of that. That the fucking Ivory Tower didn't go busting people's balls about doing shit to protect – to take care of – your people. To do what needed to be done. You gave so fucking much to the job and the city and the people in it. Made so many fucking scarifices. And your family had to make a whole lot of those right along with you. Without much fucking say. Least that could be done was making sure that its cops – their families – were supported when the shit hit the fan. When revenge and sacrifice and support was needed for the people – your flesh and blood and heart – that you took care of.
And if the Ivory Tower couldn't fucking manage that – then he'd at least do it for his own people. Within his means and abilities. Within the fucking rules he could bend. Boundaries he could push. Grey areas he could operate in. Because the young guys in his unit needed to know they could be fathers – and husbands. And the woman in his unit – they weren't going to be punished either for wanting to have a family of their own. For needing time to be mothers and wives and sisters and aunts. And when he took that time for himself and when he made expectations and found leeway for Erin – he wasn't going to play favorites now. Kim had more than earned her place in Intelligence. And had shown a lot of support for near everyone on the team who'd had their own little blips of family issues, trauma and drama that had needed to be dealt with. She deserved her chance to go and be that aunt and that sister to help pull her family through a rough spot.
Just meant that the week was going to be a bit tight. Been lucky so far. Sometimes Easter weekend in Chicago wasn't much more than a bloodbath. But seemed to have made it through without seeing too many headlines on the news or his phone ringing and dragging any of his team in. Few days of quiet never meant much, though. Could just as easily be balls to the wall come morning. With the kind of shit that got thrown at Intelligence anymore, could just as easily end up helping out with a Homicide or Special Victims case as running lead on their own investigation. Either way, with three people out for the work-week, he was going to have to get in at least one body to fill some of the gaps. Fucking hated that. Could only trust anyone so much when it came to their kind of work and didn't much need some hot shot thinking that a one-week stint in Intelligence meant they got to run off their mouth about the experience or that they were somehow a shoe-in for the next open spot.
Should've dealt with it already but didn't want to get the fucking Ivory Tower involved in the thing. Easier to just talk to Trudy on the way in and see who she could manage to shift upstairs from Patrol each day – or for the week. Might consider taking Garcia for the week if she could spare him. Thought he'd done enough that he could at least manage some paper pushing for the week. Maybe if he showed some gumption might consider letting him come out with them on a call. Though, that kid wasn't the fast on his feet and could still get a little flustered and intimidated at times. Still a little green. Maybe not quite hard enough to deal with some of the cases they got upstairs. But might've thought about the same thing about Burgess and she's blossomed well given the opportunity. Zach was a bright enough kid. Could likely contribute something to the team given the chance. So might see about that.
Other option was to get on the horn with Kenny after Al decided to take leave for the night, which didn't look like he was in too big of hurry to do. See where Rixton was at, though. Really wished that the guy hadn't fallen on a sword for Ruzek's sake. Adam had dug his own hole. Was up to him to work at pulling himself out of it. And should've had to do that for more than a couple weeks. That wasn't enough of a lesson for the kid. Though, it had seemed to be enough of a wake up call. Still, Hank wasn't too sure how he felt about having the politics of two fucking couples in his unit again. Too much bullshit. Too much distraction.
That was the other thing, though. He got the real sense that Halstead had about reached his turning point. Starting to feel like they were just counting the days until he put in his transfer papers. The spillover and managing home life and work life was getting too apparent for Voight's liking. And he didn't get the sense that that much proximity all the time – work and home – was doing much for Erin and Jay's relationship. Neither of their heads were there some days – not full-time. But Halstead just seemed more out of sorts about it all than Erin. She was doing the woman thing. Whatever was going on the home front a particular day or week was earning Halstead the cold shoulder regularly. Just wasn't sure how well they were working together on the job these days. Still getting the job done but didn't see them jiving quite as much. Halstead giving her too many pathetic puppy dog looks.
More than that, though. Wasn't entirely sure what was going on with the guy. But he'd seemed off for a few months. That U.C. assignment and the mandatory psyche eval had just thrown him off. And was seeing too many temper spikes and faraway looks in the guy since then too. Sort of looks that seemed like a bit more than bickering going on between husband-and-wife pulling his head out of the game. But whatever it was, at least on paper the guy had been cleared for duty.
Didn't know, though. Maybe it was just the natives getting restless. That the two of them were really ready to make the whole husband-wife thing official. And both of them were still suffering from some sort of anxiety about pulling the trigger and putting in their transfer papers. Cold feet.
Either way, if it wasn't Halstead handing in transfer papers in the near future, he was starting to measure where Al's head was at too. Guy was on a bit of his own destructive path. And, though he didn't think O would walk away from the job voluntarily, Voight was starting to worry that he might go off the kind of deep end that he might not have the kind of pull anymore to send in a fucking lifeboat. Wind had sure fucking changed directions lately. But he didn't want to see O drown. Wasn't sure what the guy would do if he didn't have the job. Really drown. Might really lose him then. Still, he was preparing himself for the possibility that it might be O who decided – or was forced – to take his leave from Intelligence.
For all his years of not giving people second chances – or so he claimed – he'd make an exception if Kenny decided he wanted to give the team another try. His fucking bullshit line to Ruzek about some sergeant looking to make him a No. 2 on some narcotic surveillance team. Overnights. OT. That was the exact kind of gig that Kenny had been trying to navigate out of. Rixton's surveillance and overnights and OT right now was on his little boy's life. Trying to get him right and back on track in the loss that family was going through. Thought that was a decent enough explanation for him stepping aside – even if he shouldn't have done it on Ruzek's behalf. But definitely didn't need to be painting some other picture for Adam then the reality of why he was freeing up the desk. Sometimes you were needed more at home and there was no shame in that.
But Voight knew the kind of man Rixton was too. Knew as much as he wanted and needed to be there for his son, that the guy wanted and needed the job just as much. For his own sanity and recovery. He'd had a couple months home with Colin. Not that that would be enough. Kid losing their mom is something you seemed to spend a lifetime trying to help them get through. But it might've been enough that Kenny was ready to at least clock in a week's work and top up the bank a bit again. Thought Colin was in the public school system too. So would likely just be coming out of a week of having the kid in his face 24/7. That was enough for most guys to want to get some time on the job. Didn't matter how much you loved your kids and liked hanging out with them. Sometimes you could only tolerate so much of them before you needed a fucking sanity break from being a house husband. So maybe the guy would jump at the opportunity even more. And might be a good second attempt for him to get his head screwed straight on if he wanted to sit at one of his desks if there was a slot coming up. Or even if he wanted to take a few weeks – or whatever – while Kim took her turn of managing the home front.
Worth putting in the call. Seeing what happened.
Until he got any of that in place, though, sure didn't want to have to be having twenty-minute-plus conversations with E in the middle of the day trying to play wet nurse from 1,200 miles away. So let the kid enjoy the night – but they sure as fuck better be taking it easy come morning.
E was definitely off the wall about whatever park they were at, though. Could tell he was over the moon about it. Was getting a call from in the actual park. Hadn't even got that when he was at Jurassic Park. Though, his phone had sure got bombarded with pictures. Maybe the kids thought calling him was OK since it wasn't a work day. Or maybe it was their way of trying to smooth out the day away given the teary phone call from the morning.
But after twenty minutes of Magoo hardly taking a breath in whatever the fuck he was talking about, Hank had about had enough. Couldn't get a word in edgewise. And was really only listening so much. Knew he'd be getting another full-scale rundown on the whole trip when the kid got home anyway. The gist that the kid was having a good time was more than enough for now.
He followed after Bear back over to the porch. Stopping to grab a couple of the sand toys that H had left in the grass rather than the box. Tossed them in and grabbed the cover of the box, pulling it over top. Keep the fucking neighborhood cats and raccoons out of the thing. All the while still listening to E run his mouth. Couldn't fathom there was this much to say about a fucking amusement park. But apparently it was boggling the kid's mind.
Hank grunted when he finally got asked a question and a chance to say anything. "Yea, got the picture of that thing."
"And awesome, right?" E sputtered at him. "They're right outside the ride. In like Endor's forest. Like the Ewok treehouses, Dad!"
Hank just grunted again. Whatever the fuck any of that meant.
"Listen, Magoo, I've still got your Uncle Al here, so we're going to have to wrap this up," he told his son – seeing as he was finally getting the opportunity to speak.
"OK," E allowed. "But I'll call you after—"
"Ethan," Hank put firmly, "you're getting back to the hotel late. I've got work in the morning and you've got to sleep."
"But—"
"E," he pressed, giving Al a look and shaking his head a bit as he came up the couple steps and settled back into a chair at the patio table. "We'll touch base again tomorrow night."
His kid sighed a little into his ear. "Yea, OK …," he muttered.
"Yea, OK," Hank put right back at him in a small mimic. "Love you, Kiddo. Behave for your sister."
"Yea," he allowed. "You too."
And that was it. As quickly as he'd been talking he'd hung up on him. He gave Al another little glance. Guy had been sitting there rolling a couple joints for the better part of twenty minutes. Still was. Apparently he wasn't as proficient at it was he had been back in the day or was real fucking picky about how he wanted the things. Or he was just drawing out the process in an effort to get some sort of comment and to start some sort of argument. Seemed like they were having a lot of those little blips these days too. But that happened with old friends who might as well be family. Especially given the kind of crap they were all wading through.
"He talked your ear off," Alvin put flatly – not even looking at him.
"Yea," Hank allowed, giving his face a small scrub and reaching for his whiskey. Needed a sip of that at that point. "Having the time of his life."
"Erin and Jay enjoying their time with Mickey too?" O managed.
Voight grunted. "Not exactly getting a bed-in," he provided.
Definitely wasn't that. Likely not too much of a vacation for Erin and Halstead. But was a change of scenery and definitely got the sense the two of them needed that. Though, likely would've enjoyed that change of scenery coming without Magoo in tow. But they'd brought that upon themselves. And he was kind of glad they had. E had needed something to distract him and to direct him a bit. If Erin hadn't come up with this not-so-fucking-little trip idea back in the fall and directed some of his boy's time and energy and focus into that, Hank wasn't too sure where they'd be right now. Besides, having E on-site meant he didn't need to think about two of his detective having any sort of bed-in anyway. Too much of that fucking going on in his bullpen. Didn't need to get any sort of more information on that when part of the equation was his daughter.
But didn't need to get into that. Didn't get the sense Al much wanted to hear about his kids. But also didn't think their sit and not say much was working too well either. Just didn't know what the hell they were supposed to talk about anymore. Think he'd know what to say the guy. Just didn't. Not sure this was the sort of thing you ever knew what to say about it. Not sure it was the kind of thing there was ever much to say about. Nothing that was of much use anyway.
So instead, all Voight allowed was, "Don't think Mickey is on the agenda. At some Star Wars park tonight."
Al gave him a glance then looked back to his work. "That's open?"
Hank shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "Apparently."
"Thought that park wasn't going to open its gates for a couple more years," he muttered and allowed him another little look. "Michelle's mentioned it."
Hank grunted again and shrugged again. That about the first time he'd mentioned Michelle that evening. Kid hadn't come over. But didn't think Meredith and Michelle had reached the point they could be in the same space yet. Actually didn't even get the sense the girl's name got mentioned around Meredith at all. And didn't know how that was going to work out in the long run. Bigger mind fuck for that poor girl. Good one on Al too.
Another thing there wasn't much to say about, though. Not if he didn't want to get into it with Al. Or for him to just up and walk away. Seemed to be his solution to most arguments – and even just plain ol'conversations – these days. But also could tell real good that O wasn't doing so well on his own these days. That was written all over him. So wasn't going to do anything to encourage his departure too quick. Even if that meant he was having to bite his tongue hard about him getting ready to get lit on his porch.
"Don't know. Just know they're definitely at some Star Wars thing," was all he said.
Al made a small sound.
"Want me to call them back? Michelle want a tshirt or something?" he asked.
"Not unless it's ironically retro," Al said. "Whatever the fuck that means."
Hank allowed an amused noise. E had spouted some similar line about his tshirts. He didn't know what the fuck it meant either. Other than more reason he co-opted most of E's shopping trips out to Erin.
She at least seemed to have some sense of what kids kind of wore these days. Not that her fashion sense was still putting E anywhere on par with what kids at Ignatius wore in on civies days. But all the more reason to send his son to a uniformed school. At least that way he only had to try to get his wardrobe to fucking fit in once a month.
Al seemed content with how he'd finally got his joint rolled and stuck it in his mouth. Went digging in his pocket for a light.
Voight eyed him. "Really going to do that at my house?" Couldn't stop himself.
O cast him a look. "Unless you've got some of the good stuff inside."
Hank shrugged. "Got the CBD oil," he muttered.
The joint hung from the corner of his mouth as he considered that. Then he hung his head over the back of his chair a bit. "Worried old Mrs. Do-Flicker is going to call the cops?"
Hank made an amused sound at that accusation of his busy-body of a neighbor across the street. "Think she's used to having to report catching a waft of pot from over here at this point. She still hasn't come to grips with not being able to call up Cami about it. Know us cops are useless, right?"
O gave his own little nod at that and really did light up, sucking it in real good before offering the joint to him. Hank just grunted his disapproval with a shake of his head. But Al didn't seem too upset about return the thing back to his mouth for a longer toke.
"Camille would've been way scarier than Patrol," Al allowed.
That got a grunt and a small smile out of Al. Cami was always good at holding her own. She could be real scary. Good at the lectures. And the looks. Put some good fear of the Lord into them. Until he got home. Tossed their rooms, emptied their backpacks. Dinged their allowances and grounded them real good.
"Another one of her specialties …," he muttered. Just like the pork roast he'd done up for dinner. Tried hard there but didn't matter how he tried to match what Cami did or the different temperatures and cooking times he tried, could never get the meat quite like her. Didn't know what he did wrong. Other than the pork roast … pot roast, prime rib … all of that … she just knew how to do it better. Things on a long list of what she did better than him – and not just in the kitchen.
"How's the CBD oil?" O asked, taking his tokes pretty slow.
Hank shrugged. "Don't know. Haven't tried it."
Al gave him a look – had his own disapproval. Likely thought he was getting judged. And he was. But who was Voight to fucking judge. They all dealt with grief their own ways. Supposed this was slightly better than him falling into the bottom of a bottle.
"How's the CBD oil working for Ethan?" he rephrased bluntly.
Hank just grunted and sunk back into his own chair, twisting the glass in his hand. "Haven't had it long," he allowed and made a dismissive gesture. "Got pushed on us with the frequency of the cytoxan. The medical trial."
"And?" O pressed.
Hank gave him a small glance from staring into his glass. Al usually didn't ask or say too much about E's illness. Voight mostly liked it that way. And didn't. Not like he had many people to talk to about it. But it was on the list of things he didn't know what to say much about. Private, family matter anyway.
So he just shrugged. "Knocks him out real good," he allowed. "Seems to do a decent job with the pain and the nausea. Not sure it's doing much for his appetite or tremors. But it's got quite the hangover. Don't like giving it to him on school nights. Fucking Walking Dead even after sleeping it off. Really just giving it to him the few days around the chemo so far."
"Must think he's the big shot," Al muttered. "Docs and dad giving him pot."
"CBD," Voight corrected flatly. Different. Though, the oil did have THC in it, he'd agreed to try with his little boy only if they were getting oil and only if it was the lowest amount of THC available. "And he doesn't know he's taking it. Thinks I've royally fucked up some salad dressing and stir-fries."
O allowed a real small amused sound at that. Not much more than letting out a breath. But that's about all you got with Al. "Can't tell by the taste?"
Hank grunted and shrugged. "His sense of taste has been real screwed up since all this started. Says lots of things taste different. Complains about metallic tastes a lot too. Don't know."
O just gave a sound of acknowledgement and went back to taking his tokes.
"Really want to go home to your wife reeking of that shit?" Voight put to him.
Al just breathed in – real good. "Think I should go home smelling like your whiskey instead?"
"Thought I got a real nice bottle of chardonnay for you," he put back to him.
"Don't think the in-laws taught you shit about good Italian wine," Al provided.
Voight grunted at that and took a sip of his drink. "Least I got you a bottle and not a box."
Most of the bottle had been finished off with dinner anyway. But had sort of hoped that might be where they'd all stopped beyond a night cap before he shoved Al's ass back toward his family.
"Hope you aren't planning on firing a weapon the next while," he said instead.
That got a real look. But there was truth to it. Al wanted to work on being a drunk or abusing some prescription pills – could likely fudge any paper work that came up out of them just doing their jobs. But pot – piss test order or random – harder to come up with a fucking excuse for that without Al taking a tap on his wrist and than some. Didn't need the extra attention these days. Ivory Tower was always looking for fucking excuses.
"How about I worry about my own piss and you piss off," Al said.
Voight smacked at him. But wasn't his nanny. Not his mother or his wife either. O was a big boy. Been doing the job a long time. Knew his own way around shit. Had his own pulls to get through any shit that came up. Just didn't think Al needed anymore shit these days.
"Appreciated you and Meredith coming by," he said instead, though. Because not worth getting into.
Al leaned back in his chair. "Needed a break from the house."
Voight grunted. "Gets quiet," he acknowledged.
Felt for Meredith being alone in their place. Knew she had a whole lot of reasons for still keeping Al out. For not wanting Michelle in there. Knew that it was hard to give up the place you raised your kids. Where you were a family. But also knew how much a house could become this fucking haunted museum. As comforting as that could be, also just tore you apart more.
Had nearly forgotten how quiet the house could get without the kids in it. Or maybe he just hadn't completely realized how much life E had brought back into the home with getting him home. As much of a fucking pain in the ass he was, the kid real … lit up the place. Made it feel like a home again. Give him reason to go home. Needed that.
Wouldn't say that he was liking how quiet the house had felt again the past few days. At all. Actually was almost glad in a way he'd ended up real short-handed in the bullpen. Give him a lot of reason to be busting his hump and putting in long hours. Keep himself out of setting in that place alone too much. Knew that being there would just get him thinking on J and on Camille. And knew that a lot of it wouldn't be the good stuff. It'd be focusing on all the ways things had gone wrong. What he'd done wrong. Things he hadn't fixed then and sure couldn't fix now.
Knew too it was different with Meredith. And Al. Lost their only. Situation with Michelle was just complicated. Those wounds hadn't healed yet. Things hadn't been forgiven. Meredith hadn't tried to get to know the girl yet. Didn't seem to have any interest in being any even small part in her life. Now that was likely just going to translate into a whole lot more dislike – directed at that poor kid and placed on Al too. Even more reason to not let her sit in that place too long or too much. But at least her and Al were sort of talking even if it was all fucking complicated and fucked up. But what relationship or family wasn't. Hadn't met one yet.
"Funny seeing Henry in the yard," Al allowed staring across the space. "Remember when it was Ethan. Lexi."
Voight allowed a grunt and a little nod. Had been enough cookouts that Al and Meredith had been over a lot in better times. Different times. Didn't have as big of house or nice of yard as they had but they still came by.
"Turning into a bit of a spitting image of Justin," Al muttered.
Hank grunted again. Funny was that when H had come out had looked like he'd taken a lot after his mom. But kids change a lot in those first few weeks and months – and that first year. Pushing two now and could definitely see that Voight genetics in the kid. Both in appearance and personality.
"Can see Olive in his nose and eyes," he allowed. Because he didn't want her to go through raising her child feeling like she couldn't see herself and was just looking at Justin. Hank knew how that was. And it could be fucking hard. Sometimes you needed some reminding to see yourself – and to see the child for who and what they were – and not just your loss. So he took it on himself to remind her. And to remind others. Because the poor girl didn't need people to be constantly telling her how much H looked like his dad. She knew. Still, he allowed, "Erin's always spouting off the kid's got Cami's complexion and my build. So guess we got to be thankful that at least he got some of his mom' features."
Al made a small sound of acknowledgement. "What's going on with her?" he asked flatly. Didn't know there was a lot of interest in that tone. But, already knew that talking about his kids – his living kids – wasn't exactly something he wanted to talk about. But supposed the other options were work or to just sit there. Not sure that either of them really wanted the silence either. Another reason Hank was grateful for E. As much as the kid lacked a filter sometimes any noise and conversation was better than the fucking quiet. "Still haven't gotten my wedding invite."
Voight just grunted. Because didn't know what to say to that. Didn't really want to wade too far into it. Two of them were pretty much living as man and wife. Prefer they'd make it official but got what the stalling points were. Wasn't really in a position in his and Erin's relationship where he could say much about it. They'd actually just recently reached the point that him and Erin had had a couple real discussions outside of therapy and outside of work where he'd actually been given some leeway to talk to her as a father again. To treat her like a daughter.
And in that, he knew that both her and Jay were struggling a little bit in trying to figure out how to do the man and wife thing before they were even doing the man and wife thing. They both seemed clueless about how to manage a long-term relationship. But who fucking wasn't. It was a whole lot of trial and error. And reality was with the kind of year they'd had, their heads would be spinning. Lots of conflict and confusion and emotions. That's a lot to deal with for anyone. A lot to try to wade through when they both had their own fucking pasts. Both had their own ways of dealing with things. Or not dealing with things.
And didn't get the sense that Jay was much of a chatter. Not that Erin was either. But different with men. Jay was the real private sort. But could tell there was a lot going on under there. Wore that on his sleeve pretty good.
The two of them had definitely had some blips over the winter. Struggling a bit. That was normal for couples. Made him glad, though, they'd taken the vacation too. Might not be the ideal vacation but just some time away and a change of scenery could count for a lot. Change of routine. Hopefully it'd get them synced up a bit better. Both at home and at work.
Another topic he wasn't going to get into, though. Just provided, "Don't know you'll get one. Last I heard the plan was just to go get the marriage license."
Al gave him a look. One that only a father could give. One that said you just wanted your daughter to be happy. But you also wanted your girl's wedding day to be marked by a bit more than that. One that said that he knew that stung a bit. Maybe more than a bit. But Voight wasn't going to say anything about not getting to see his daughter's wedding when Al really wouldn't ever be getting to see Lexi's.
"Gave you the big invite to E's Confirmation," he provided flatly as some sort of consolation prize.
O gazed at his slow burning blunt. "Meredith seems to think I'm not supposed to be his sponsor. Because I'm his godparent?"
Hank shrugged. "All for show anyway," he said.
That earned a toke. "That makes me feel real special."
Hank grunted. "Still appreciate you standing up there with him."
Al shrugged. "I suppose to get him anything for this?"
"Nah," Hank said. "Don't have to do that."
"Meredith seems to think convention dictates, I should," he added, holding some smoke in his lungs. "What's his Confirmation name?"
"Andrew," Voight put flatly.
"The patron saint of fishermen," Al muttered. "Appropriate."
He grunted. It was. E was a real boy of summer. And still his mother's son. With the mild winter they'd had, Magoo hadn't ever really stopped talking about fishing and baseball. Been counting the days until ball season and fishing and camping season officially started. Would be real hot to trot about it all when he got back. Itching to get through the couple weeks until ball started up and if this kind of spring weather kept up, likely wasn't going to be able to put him off until Father's Day to take him on the first fishing trip of the season either.
"He wanted Jude," Hank said, though.
Al gave a little nod. "Hopeless cases," he said, staring across the yard.
"Didn't think he needed that on a pendant around his neck too," Voight said. Kid carried that outlook too much in his heart and mind as it was. Didn't need the label literally hanging off him. Was busting his ass trying to convince E that it wasn't a label he should be placing on himself – or letting anyone else place on him – as it was.
"That what you getting him?" Al cast him a glance.
Voight gaze his face a little shrug. "Don't know," he said. "Damn thing's – Pentecost – landed on his birthday weekend."
"Noticed that," O allowed. "You doing a thing again?"
He grunted and shock his head. "Friend situation is still about the same as last year."
Al made a little noise and a small nod.
"Ignatius is having a reception after," he allowed. "Likely should make an appearance. For appearances. But can just have you and Meredith … Michelle … back here after. Likely let E have his couple buddies over. Throw something on the grill."
O nodded and gazed at the barbecue. A little long in the tooth but still worked. And sitting out on that back porch, in his mom's swing, helping out with the grilling, tossing his ball around, hopping on his decrepit bike that he still managed to fit on and keep his balance enough to tear up to the park to grab some time in one of the diamonds – that was still Magoo's idea of a real good time. Had been all he wanted last year. Would accommodate it this year. Keep it simple. Not try to make it bigger or more complicated than it needed to be. Truth was the kid would be happy to have Evalyn and Evan show up. To have his Uncle Al and Meredith there. To have his sister and Jay. Olive and H. Maybe Halstead's brother. Michelle if she decided – or was allowed – to come. Be more than enough for with how E rolled. Easy going kid. But at least it made him easy in some ways. And maybe they all fucking needed that.
"So fishing gear …" Al muttered.
"Sure," Voight allowed. "He'd like that. But really don't have to get him anything. You doing this for him, gift enough."
Al got real quiet. Just sat that. His roach was burning down. "You know, sometimes I look at Ethan now and think maybe it's better. Lexi."
Hank glared at the side of his head. Guy didn't look at him. But he smacked hard anyway. "Think maybe you've smoked a bit too much if you're going to say something like that to me."
Al just brushed at some of the ashes that fall on his knee. "Just mean that if she'd pulled through, she wouldn't have had … a normal life."
Hank smacked again and stared at him. Hard. But Al just worked at snuffing out the last bite of the roach into the arm of the chair.
"You trying to get me to make you feel better by agreeing with you? By fucking saying that raising my boy is so fucking awful that it would've been better – or easier – if he'd died?" Voight rasped at him. O didn't even look at him. Just kept working at that roach. "Not going to say that, O. You want me to say that I've got guilt about what happened to E? Or to Camille? Or to J? I will. I'll tell you that. Want me to say that it fucking hurts me to see all this shit my little boy has had to go through and all the time he's been in the hospital and some of the fucking things those doctors have had to do to him to get him through and to keep him going and alive? Sure. Fine. I'll tell you that. It fucking kills me as a father that my son is having to go through that. You want me to say that I worry about his future and what kind of life he'll have? Yeah. I do, Al. But he's my son. And I'm his father. And no matter how much any of it fucking hurts or how much worry it creates or how much guilt and strife and sleepless nights dealing with it all creates – there has never been a fucking day where I've thought it would be better if my child died. Just like it's not fucking better or easier on you that you lost Lexi. And just like if Lexi had pulled through, you would've gone through the hurt and the worry and the guilt and the strife and the fucking sleeplessness nights to make it better and easier for her. TO fucking figure out how to make it as normal as possible for her. And to get her through. Because you're her father. And she's your child. End of fucking story."
O just kept tapping the end of the roach on the armrest. Staring at it. And the fucking black streaks it was leaving.
"I didn't come to the hospital enough for you, did I," he said flatly after a long gap. "You came in for Lexi and when Justin—"
"Al, don't do that to yourself," Hank shook his head. "You've got enough to deal with. You don't need to take other shit on. Shit I haven't even thought about."
"You came in for Lexi and –"
"Alvin," Hank put to him directly, "I'm used to hospitals. I'm used to bad situations in hospitals. A lot of people aren't—"
"That's just it, isn't it," O muttered. "I didn't go in at all for you. For Erin. With Justin. And Ethan back when …" he trailed off and shook his head letting out a slow breath. "And now, you've got him at Med all the time."
"Al, you came in for Ethan. You were one of the first people there, OK? You didn't need to keep coming back. I didn't expect you to. What the hell were you supposed to do? Or say? He's laying there in pieces in a coma. I didn't want people there. And now? He's not on his death bed. He has a lot of appointments. That's just the way it is. Way it's going to be. Your in his life outside of the hospital. He doesn't need you standing at his bedside. He doesn't want that. I don't either. Because outside the hospital – that's the normal life we're trying for."
"How's that working?" Al put flatly.
Hank made a sound and gulped down the mouthful that was left of his whiskey. "It's not. But we keep fucking trying."
He pocketed what was left of the roach and stared across the yard again. "It doesn't get better, does it?"
Hank shrugged and gazed at his melting ice. "It doesn't get better but it does get different. You've just got to give it time. And you've got to remember that you've still got Meredith."
"I don't know about that," he muttered.
"Al, she was here tonight. She just needs time too. And Michelle—"
He made a noise. "That's not going to work."
"Alvin, she's your child. You'll make it work."
He shook his head. "Meredith … I can't make it work with them both."
"Meredith just needs time," Hank pressed. "They both do. They need a chance to process what happened and to have the opportunity to get to know each other."
"That's not going to happen," he put flatly.
"Then as a father and a husband – as a man, Alvin – you'll figure out how the fuck to make that happen. Because you will regret if you let what happen mean you lost both of your daughters."
"She's not Meredith's daughter," he mumbled.
"She's yours," Hank said.
"And maybe that's what caused—"
"I am going to stop you there, because now you are just talking bullshit again," Voight graveled, nodding at him. "You did not cause this. Lexi does not blame you. And you will save yourself a whole lot of pain if you work at getting your head around that now."
Al let out a slow breath and went back to staring across the little patch of lawn.
"Michelle's a good kid," Hank tried. "And if you just give this some time I think—"
"Don't," he said shaking his head and shooting him a look. "Don't go comparing this to you. To Camille. To Erin. It's not …" he trailed off, stopping himself from whatever he was going to say and just went back to that blank look he had on his face anymore. The far off stare. Hank knew it. But also knew it didn't hide much below the surface. If anything it was a dead giveaway of the level of pain and turmoil going on inside.
He nodded, though. "OK," he allowed. "But—"
"She doesn't want to be around me right now either," Al muttered.
"Then keep checking in," he said. "Even when she doesn't want to. Let her know you're there and watching out for her. That you still care."
"Be where?" he muttered. "Meredith doesn't want me staying at the house. She doesn't want Michelle in the house. I go back to the apartment and Michelle's … at Leo's. Comes in at all hours. Or not at all. She's fucking going to like end up pregnant. Or back in juvie. Or both."
"Al, she's likely just real fucking confused right now. She knows you're hurting bad. She knows you lost the daughter you raised since birth. She's likely feeling a bit like chopped liver. Doing some regression. You've just got to … be there. Go pick her up after school. Go drag her home from Leo's. Keep being a father. She's still your daughter."
He just made a sound.
"Look," Hank shook his head. "Olive … you know she left after. Took her about four months before she started forming sentences with me again. Erin – five before she so much as looked me in the eyes. Just been the last month or two we've started having some real conversations. E treats me like his best buddy one minute and is in an all out fit at me the next. He's all over the fucking map. And, Cami – six … seven … years and … " he sighed. "And J … he never really got over that loss. He still didn't know how to … talk to me. Maybe I didn't know how to fucking talk to him about any of it either. Too much guilt and blame. And it's no one's fucking fault. Not yours. Not your family's. And the person who did this … you did the best—"
"I should've done more," Al said. "You should've let me do what—"
"I couldn't, Alvin," Voight spat at him and stared at him until he met his eyes. "It was forty families. Not one. 'Tonio was standing right there. We were in the fucking District. You – me – we all did the best we could with the situation. To get Lexi – to get all those kids – as much justice as we could."
"And what justice was that?" O said. "A little show. Some pomp and ceremony. And what did that accomplish? For anyone?"
"You think you'd be sleeping any better if that kid was at the bottom of the lake?" Voight put to him.
"I think he would've gotten what he deserved," O said.
"But you wouldn't have, Al," he put to him. "Because then you'd be carrying even more than you already are for the rest of your life. And you don't deserve that."
Al stared at him for a long beat. Long enough – after years of knowing each other long enough – that Voight could see the flicker in his eyes. But then he looked away.
"These things. They change us, Alvin. They change our relationships. You've got to give it time. You got to … focus on the blessings you got. Cling to them more than you ever did before. That's how it's going to get any better. And, trust me on this one, you've still got blessings in your life. You've got to just keep working at it. Seeing it. Listening to them. "
And listening and listening and listening. For the rest of your fucking life.
AUTHOR NOTE: For anyone that missed it, I posted a chapter in Aftermath late last week.
Your readership, comments, reviews and feedback are appreciated.