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.

THIS CHAPTER WOULD COME AFTER THE FLORIDA CHAPTERS.

Hank watched his boy struggling to get his fucking Jurassic Park dinosaur stuffed into his backpack. He smacked at the scene. And E gave him a glance. He gestured at the damn thing and the other fucking dinosaur figurines his son had sitting on the table – apparently waiting to get stuffed in the bag too.

"Maybe should focus on getting the dinosaurs that actually existed in the bag," he graveled at his boy.

He got a huff, though, and E just struggled harder to get the damn thing to fit. One of the best fucking toy purchases and most fucking ridiculous toy purchases he'd ever made for his damn kid.

"They're getting the Jurassic World exhibit, Dad," he mouthed off with some good tone that earned him another smack, as Hank slouched back in his chair and picked up his coffee cup to keep watching the fucking show. Kid took heed of the body language and toned it down slightly. "It had Indominus. So I'm allowed to take her," he provided a bit more evenly. "Besides, it means I can say stuff about DNA sequencing because that's how they made her."

"Ain't real," Hank said again.

Another annoyed sigh out of his kid. "I know that," he said. "But DNA sequencing is. And they have the DNA Discovery Center. And the new Spices exhibit is basically all about DNA stuff too. So isn't it good to talk about that?"

Hank grunted. Kid might have a point. But also didn't know how much the kid actually knew about DNA or DNA sequences. Then again, sometimes E ended up knowing a lot of random shit about the things he wanted to know about. Absorbed stuff in weird ways. Picked up on it through his own alternative means. Supposed too they had enough fucking documentaries and PBS programming up on the TV screen that he picked up on shit that way. And even if his reading abilities weren't up to par, still didn't stop him from gazing for hours at all the fucking nature and biology and dinosaur books that his wife had in the house for the kids.

Figured they were probably about the last fucking families in Chicago who still had the fucking encyclopedias taking up shelf space in the family den. But Cami had been so committed to buying that shit. Had even claimed the damn World Books her parents had collected for her growing up when her folks were ready to toss them. Had really felt they were a fucking stable of childhood and staple of education. And those were two things his wife had been real committed to giving their kids.

The Encyclopedia Britannica's Young Children set. One of the things Cami had gone out and bought back when they found out they were pregnant the first time. Too early of purchase ultimately. But it got kept. Their little girl maybe didn't get to enjoy them but their boys still had. Funk and Wagnalls that his wife fucking squirreled away money to afford the latest addition during a fucking grocery run too.

Cami got her wish, though. Magoo still fucking pulled the things down to sit and page through. Knew some of that was because he knew they were something his mom had accumulated for the them. Something she valued. But knew another part of it was just that E could sit and look at pictures in books for hours. He'd been like that when he was a little boy. Still was now. And it was reference books and atlases. Even his textbooks – he could get lots in the pictures and graphs and charts. Just stare at them. Kid sure liked when the novels he was reading him had pictures too. Didn't matter if it was only one black-and-white sketch per chapter, E wanted his opportunity to gaze at. Had caught him going back and checking them out again as some way his kid tried to review the story and the chapters they'd been through. Spilled over into schematics and instruction manuals and the newspaper and the stats in the sports section and even the weekly flyers. But Hank sure as fuck preferred E be staring at any of those things than the fucking iPad. Maybe he'd actual learn something rather than fucking Goggle or YouTube giving him all the answers instantaneously.

And his kid could claim he was all "retro" too. Though, Erin seemed to think that maybe he was a bit too much of a 90's kid for his own good. But that was the timeframe Hank knew how to raise kids in. Wasn't sure that today's world made a whole lot of sense for raising children. Kids his boy's age. And knew that his son sure tried to emulate his sister too. And Halstead. And what he had left of J. So movies, music, tv shows. E seemed a whole lot more interested in the '80s and '90s than his own era sometimes. Even the fucking '60s and '70s if he decided he wanted to be just like his Old Man for a minute. Or his mom. And those encyclopedias were sure his mom. E was actually probably one of the only students at Ignatius who even knew what an encyclopedia even was, let alone having touched one. Or having access to a set – multiple sets – whenever he wanted. Even if most of the material in them was from the fucking '80s. Which Erin seemed to think only risked making him more of a mark. But Hank tried to look at it as making his kid a more rounded individual. And with all E's challenges, he figured let him learn however he was able. As long as he was learning something.

"Want to go over your little presentation again?" was all Hank put to him at his kid's assertion that this Indominus Rex thing and DNA sequencing thing was what he wanted to go into this little interview toting.

E sighed at him, and reached for the next dinosaur to try to get it in. Figured that the ones he had were likely the ones that Indominus was fictionally spliced from. "Not if you're going to tell me to slow down again."

"Just want you to make sure you talk slow enough the people are able to understand you and follow what you're saying," Hank put to him.

Because the reality was that they both really needed this win. Was real proud of his boy snagging this interview even – to do the Bridge Program at Field. Basically, it'd set up his kid for a whole lot of volunteer and internship and co-op and part-time work opportunities and special programming at the museum for the rest of high school. Thought that'd be real good for E. In a whole lot of ways. But the timing of the program – August – they needed that too.

Really needed his son to have something to focus on and be excited about that month. Needed him to have something to look forward to. Some distraction. Something he'd be good at. Already was going to be spending a week in August doing the tween camp at Field. Focused right in on fish that year, and he was real excited about that. And he'd done so well at the programming aspect of it – making the little interactive app thing. If his son ended up getting a slot in Bridge, there'd really only be a week left in the month that Hank would have to figure out what to do with him and how to distract him. Hopefully getting him prepped for high school would be enough for all of that – and not so fucking stressful with his kid's anxiety that it sent him over the edge with all the other crap E would be trying to process and dwell on and stew about.

"I won't motor," E muttered at him, as he zipped his bag, apparently satisfied with how he got his stuff in. Though, the head of the one dinosaur was sticking out. Likely not the best way to head into middle school for the day. But Hank kept that commentary to himself for the moment.

"And need to remember that you've only got two minutes to say what you need to say," he nodded at him. "So keep on track."

"I know," E sighed.

"Need to look them in the eye and not do the shy routine when they ask you questions too, Magoo," Hank stressed at him.

Ethan slouched into the chair across from him. "I know," he sighed.

"You want to do some practice questions again?" Hank put.

"No," E groaned. "It's like you're interrogating me."

Hank gave a smack at him and stared at his kid. Only made E fidget a bit more. But at least he pulled his sliced up apple over and took a momentary interest in it. Nibbled a bit. Had a feeling the kid was going to decide he had too many butterflies in his stomach to eat that day. That wasn't going to do anything good for him in getting him through the school day, ingesting his meds and having him functional at his interview for Bridge in the afternoon.

Truth was that Hank wanted to believe that this was just a bit of a practice routine. That the kids selected for the program would be put through the rigors of learning how to do the various little presentations on the fucking Discovery Interaction carts they assigned their teenaged volunteers to through the museum. That they'd be doing some training with them on how to manage some of the different programming they had on the go for the little ones and their families in the Family Play Lab. But also knew that they'd be looking to make sure they were recruiting kids who were articulate enough and socially forward enough that they could manage doing those routines. Could learn the information and interact with the public reasonable well. All different age ranges.

Hank wasn't entirely sure his boy ticked off those boxes that well. But also wanted to believe that his son getting into the training program and then being able to sign up as a volunteer would be real good at helping him develop some of those qualities in his kid. Develop some more self-confidence and self-esteem. Some self-worth too. Get him looking people in the eyes better. Being more comfortable in his own skin. Making sure people were seeing the whole him – not his scars or disability.

But also was aware that it was likely E's scars and disability that might've even gotten him the interview. That the museum was ticking off it's own little checklist to be non-discriminatory. Slate his son as some sort of diversity candidate. Either for the interview. Maybe even for the program as a whole, if Magoo did get selected. And Hank wasn't too sure how he felt about any of that. Even though he knew the program would be good for Magoo. Knew his kid would likely love getting to spend a good chunk of his August over at Field all-goddamn-day. That he'd love it even more to have an excuse to get getting over there on a regular basis during the school year. But Hank also wasn't a huge fan of people treating his boy "differently" or giving him some sort of acceptations.

Accommodations – not acceptations. That's what Magoo needed. Needed to live up the same expectations as anyone else. He just needed the accommodation to have the time to do that within the best of his abilities.

Knew his son had worked real hard on his application for Bridge. And was proud of him getting this far. Proud and nervous for him getting this interview. And wanted to believe that the kid had been selected for the interview based on his own merits. That the people at Field knew he'd participated in the camp last summer. That they knew he was part of the Museum Club. That he'd been to various functions at the place over the year. That they could see on his application that he had a bit of an aptitude for science and an interest in some of the work they did over at Field.

But he'd also been real aware that E had filled out the applications for the volunteer Bridge session at Shedd and Adler too and hadn't landed an interview. Wasn't sure what to make of that. If it meant anything. Made just meant that Field thought he was the best fit there. Also was aware that some guy Cami had worked with was involved in Bridge and one of the guys on this fish summer camp. Maybe he'd put in a word for Magoo. Pulled his application out of the pile. Or Cami was just looking out for their boy and their family again. Trying to make August a bit easier on them. Maybe make E finding some place he fit in in high school a bit easier – even if it wasn't with the kids at Ignatius.

"Not trying to interrogate you," Hank said. "Just want to make sure you're prepared."

E nibbled at the apple slice and put it down. Clearly wasn't going to eat. "You think I should tell them that mom was a biologist?" he asked.

Hank shrugged. "Could," he allowed. "But think it's better to talk about you. Tell them about Robotics. Some of the projects you build here. Circuitry. That Makey-Makey thing. Your Minecraft stuff. All that. About getting out to the Space Center. Going to some of the observatories around here."

E sighed harder. "Dad," he said with a bit of tone again. "It's Field. Not Adler or MSI."

"Still good to make sure they know all that," Hank nodded at him.

"Robotics was on my application," Ethan huffed.

"So tell them again. Take in whatever project you've got set up with your Snap Circuits right now."

"It's a radio," E said with too much tone and Hank gave him a solid smack at that. The kid settled some. "And they don't care."

"Think they do," Hank pressed. "Will care just as much as you being in the Museum Club and doing the camp last summer. That you're doing the one this year too. So make sure they know that too."

"It's Field!" E said with aggravation again. "They know."

"Maybe the people sitting in on this interview don't," Hank said.

E rubbed his finger against the crease in their kitchen table. "What if they ask me something I don't know answer to?"

"Most of the questions aren't going to have a right or wrong answer, Magoo," Hank offered. "You just answer them the best way you know how."

"Well, what if I go all blank or can't find words? Or I'm too tired and foggy? Like on tests and after-school?" E said, meeting his eyes with real concern. "Or if they make me have to read something and explain it and all that?"

Hank tilted his chin to keep his eyes. "E, your application included your school reports, OK? They know you're on an IEP. I did the follow-up call and let them know you'd need some reasonable accommodations when it came to anything with reading comprehension in the interview."

E slouched hard. "So now they aren't going to pick me at all."

Hank shook his head. "It doesn't mean that. It means that if they give you some sort of test like that, you're going to get some extra time or someone there will help you out."

"Exactly. So then I'm stupid and a pain in their ass. So they aren't going to pick me," Ethan sulked.

"You go into it with that attitude and they won't," Hank graveled sternly. "You go in confident. You tell them how excited you are about the program and Field. You let them see how much you like dinosaurs and space and robotics and programming and fish and all of that. You sit straight. You look them in the eye. You speak clearly. And you answer them as best you can and if you aren't sure of the answer, say as much. They'll likely ask you again in a different way. You still not sure how to answer it, just tell them that."

E slumped even more. "What if I don't feel well by after-school?"

Was Hank's turn to sigh at him at that. "Ethan, there's going to be a lot of days you don't feel well. That's just the way it's going to be. You're going to have to learn when and how to make the call on that. Listen to your body. You really run down after school. You're in pain. You've got brain fog. Fatigue. Think you're flaring. You have to make the call on what you can push through and put your best foot forward and if you need to draw the line. You think you aren't well enough to handle it, then we call them and tell them. Explain it matter-of-factly. But you understand that they won't be under an obligation to give you another interview slot. Might be shooting yourself in the foot."

E just slumped there. Elbows on the table – sulking.

"Get your elbows off the table," Hank ordered at him and he even more sulkly pulled them away from the flat surface, slouching in his chair. "Sit up straight," he ordered again and the kid gave him a look. "And keep looking at me," he provided. The kid did but looked like he wanted to cry. "Ethan," he stressed again. "There's going to be a lot of times in life you're going to want to use the M.S. or what happened to your head as an excuse. Long as I'm around, I'm not going to let you do that. Sometimes it can be an explanation. But there's no good reason that it's going to mean you can't or you shouldn't be doing something. You, me, whoever's involved with what it is you want to do or achieve – we're just going to have to work at figuring out how to make sure things work for you. That's not going to always go smoothly. Sometimes it's going to be hard or real frustrating. But, if it's something you want, you've got to push for it. And that's going to mean sometimes you're going to have to make choices about how you're feeling, what you're abilities are, and push through."

E ran his finger along the table some more. "But what if they don't pick me?"

"Then it's the same as tryouts, Magoo. Sometimes you don't get picked for the team. So you bust your ass through the off-season. You beef up on your skills. What you can offer. And come around next year, you throw your hat in the ring again," Hank said.

"Maybe they are just letting my do the interview – or maybe they'll only pick me – because I'm an RIC kid …" he muttered.

Hank stared at him. "E, that's something you're going to have to deal with in life too. It happens. You've had it happen. And you're going to have to learn to make judgments on when that's right and fair – and if it justifiably makes your life better and easier in situations where you need that. And, if you feel them putting those kinds of labels on you are unfair to you or unfair to others, that's something you're gong to have to make judgments on when to speak up too. It's all a balance."

"It all just makes everyone hate me," he said. "Because I make it harder and more unfair to everyone."

"Ethan," Hank stressed again, "you can't go through life looking at it that way. It just makes you sound like a victim. An you aren't that either."

His boy just gazed at him with hurt eyes.

"E," he sighed, putting down his coffee. "Look, I don't think that you got this interview because of your issues. I think you've been hanging out at Field since last summer. Participating in their programs. That they know you. And they think you're a good fit. You've got to go in there believing that and show them that too. Prove to them they're right. And whatever happens – I'm proud of you for applying and I'm proud of you for making it this far in the application process. Sure you beat out a whole lot of other kids to even get an interview."

"But you think that I should be doing a presentation about robotics and circuitry and space and stuff," he said all glumly.

Hank shrugged. "Maybe," he acknowledge. "But also think you explained your position to me real well – and that you made some good points. And that how you explained it showed that you know a lot about the museum. What exhibits they have there. What they've got coming up. And, you know what?" His kid looked at him hopefully. "I think you going in there with that kind of knowledge is real smart too."

E gave him that quiet, shy smile of his. His kid was so full of nerves and anxiety all the time. Sometimes he really didn't know how to fucking manage that. How to make it right. How to get him functional in the world. So just kept picking at it and just kept thinking that something like this opportunity – it'd help him with it.

"You aren't going to make me all nervous again when you pick me up, are you?" E asked.

Hank grunted. "Not trying to make you nervous," he allowed. "And you think I will, I can see if your sister can drive you over to the interview after school."

E gave his head a little shake. "No … you …," he said. "Just don't ask me to go over my presentation or practice questions and all that when we're driving over."

Hank allowed a little nod and picked up his coffee with a grunt. Fair enough. Sometimes he had to play within E's bounds. And sometimes doing that was the only way to expand the field of play the kid had to play with anyway.

E's eyes set on him too. "Can I tell them we're going to go to the Jurassic World exhibit too?"

Hank made a noise into his coffee at that and brought his mug down. Kid got another smack. "You really think that's going to be worth our dough when you were down in Jurassic Park? When I took you out to that whole hoopla out on the pier last summer?"

E gave him a little smile – that one much more coy. The fucking little boy joining manipulative teen right there. Trying to play cute while trying to get his way. "This is Jurassic World," he stressed. "It's different."

Hank grunted and gestured over at where the kid's allowance jars were up on the shelf by the coffeemaker. "Then I guess we should tally up some of that coin," he said.

The smile crept along E's lips a bit more and he watched as his boy headed over there. How the kid managed to hoist his knee up to the counter and reach for the jars. And he didn't say a goddamn thing about the kid climbing on the counter. Because sometimes the kid needed to find his own way to do things and figure out his own accommodations. And might as well let some of that start at home.