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 GOES AFTER WHAT IS CURRENTLY CHAPTER 33 — HIDDEN TRUTHS.
Erin brought the book down and looked toward the front door as she heard it open and the clatter of Eth and Jay coming in. Jay peaked around the corner into the front room – scoping out his surroundings. Likely not wanting to walk directly into Hank – because even when he was entering the house with her or Ethan, he still said if felt strange to be setting foot into "Voight's house" without the invitation coming from Hank himself.
Though, Erin sort of looked at it anymore as it was a standing invitation. But Jay wouldn't likely see it quite that way unless Hank said something or maybe gave him a key of his own. Which really would just make sense at this point. And for all the other concessions that had been made in trying to redefine and reestablish and adjust whatever their family was or wasn't – she wasn't quite sure why that threshold hadn't been crossed yet.
Though, knowing Hank it likely had to do with trust and privacy. Which was sort of insulting considering how ingrained of part of the family life Jay had become at this point. Which she thought Hank recognized. So it might have more to do with it being "Camille's house". And for all Hank's efforts – his commitment at the holidays and in family therapy – to try to make the house less of a museum and shrine to his wife and more of a home for the living, there were clearly just some ghosts he wasn't ready to let go of yet. Some Erin acknowledged that he never would be. Maybe some that Erin didn't really want him to either.
But she also really didn't think that Camille would care if Jay had a key. If anything, she thought that Camille likely would've been president of the Jay Halstead Appreciation Society. Camille probably would've been at her any time she thought Erin was screwing it up. And she would've been at Hank any time she thought he was being an over-protective, over-bearing pain-in-the-ass and to stop trying to scare one of the good ones away.
Though, Erin also was coming to suspect – after being in a relationship with Jay for a couple years – that Camille also would've given her some firm warnings about just what she was getting into. Erin had come to … hesitantly accept that there were a lot of similarities between Jay and Hank. And sometimes that was … actually, no, she didn't want to think about the fact she was either attracted to or marrying a man that was pretty much her "father".
Though, she didn't doubt that Camille would've had some words about that. And she would've only filtered that so much. Erin would've been given a reality check about it all. All of it. And sometimes Erin did wish Camille was around to give her that reality check.
That advice. About being a friend and partner and spouse and wife and mother to the children of someone like Jay. To someone like Hank. Or even how to be any of those things to any man – and to still be her in there too. How to give up parts of herself while not giving up yourself. How to sacrifice but be true to who you are. To still have your own life and identity and being allowed to have your own wants and needs and dreams and hopes and goals – beyond that of the couple and the family. To know how to push and badger the guy and put them in their place and to not worry about how it might fuck up the relationship. Because it shouldn't fuck up the relationship. Not a real one. And how to be strong and independent while still being in a partnership. How to play all those roles – for yourself and for them and for your family.
It was … too fucking complicated. And even though she'd talked to Hank a minuscule amount about it all, she knew no matter how it was cut, she was still getting a man's perceptive. And a cop's perspective. And the guy who raised hers perspective. Her father – whether she liked it or not. And that was different – it was biased and slanted in a different way – than if she could talk to Camille about any and all of this.
"Hey …," he smiled at her. Still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. That was likely a good sign that his outing with Eth had gone okay. Or maybe not – since Eth was in the door and clomping up the stairs without so much as a hello.
"Hey?" she called at him. "Ethan."
But he just kept going. Jay glanced behind him at the kid's lack of response but turned to her with a head shake and came into the front room.
"It's okay," he assured. "Bathroom. And he didn't bring his weighted gloves."
Erin rolled her eyes a little. "Oh, then I'm sure that was a fun trip to the Lego build."
Jay made a little noise and sat down on the couch – occupying the cushion she'd just curled her toes around while she read the book. He knocked up the cover a bit and gazed at it. A Handmaid's Tale.
"You getting prepped for us to watch another super enraging series?" he asked.
She allowed him a small smile at that but gazed down at the battered cover. "It's Camille's," she said and gestured off toward the kitchen. "He pulled it out from somewhere. Apparently I should read it."
She had only looked at the publication date to realize that Camille had likely read it around the time she'd had her first miscarriage. That it'd been put into print just a year before Erin was born. And that she'd clearly seen something in the book to make it worth holding onto for all these years. And also based on how worn the paperback was, she'd likely read it far more than once.
She'd wondered a bit about what in the book Camille had related to in that time of her life. What about made her keep it and reread it. And maybe what about it was it one that she hadn't decided to pull off the bookshelf on her own and share with Erin. Though, Erin was only an half-hour or so into the book but knew that the stark sexuality, abuse, suicide and rather explicit scenes depicting the "Ceremony" had likely been the reason it hadn't been handed to her as a teen. The same reasons that Hank didn't want Ethan watching Thirteen Reasons Why at thirteen. Because some times – some things for some kids – are just not something they need to be seeing or reading at that time of their lives. It wasn't about censorship. It was about knowing your kids. And Camille would've known with the kid Erin was when she walked into their house and what she'd gone through and all the therapy they were investing in for her – that handing her that book wasn't bright at fourteen or fifteen or even seventeen.
And, though, she was exposed to Camille's love of reading and books and education and academia – she'd somewhat sneered at aspects of it through her teens. She'd been a pain in the ass. She'd made their relationship hard. She didn't want to sit down for high-brow book-club talks. Sharing ideas and thoughts and discussion with the woman wasn't something that she was ready for. So she'd settled into Harry Potter and Gregory Maguire's Wicked series with Camille. And, she'd fallen even more into Hank's reading patterns. Because you couldn't escape the expectation that you read while living with the Voights.
And if that was so, she'd decided that she was more interested in the choices Hank provided. Back then. So she'd inherited his paperback novels as he finished them. The never-ending pile of mystery and detective and thriller stories that he worked through. Brain-candy. Easy reads. The type of battered pulp fictions that a lot of cops had in their go-bags. The kind that she had in her own and lining her shelves despite Jay making fun of her James Pattersons and Michael Connellys and Gillian Flynns and Lee Childs. Because really – why would you keep books like that? They weren't for prosperity. It wasn't like they were deep or meaningful or things you would ever read again. But maybe it somehow sort of felt like home. Or it'd been something that had been taught to her.
Not that Hank had his collection of junk writing lining the family's book shelves. She was just as sure that beyond the new paperback he received in his stocking or under the tree every year, he just grabbed used ones out of locker rooms or up off break room tables or from between the cushions at the Social Club. And that he was just as likely to toss them back there when he was done with them.
It'd always been Camille's books that filled the shelves in the house. Lots of them. And even though Hank read the brain-candy at work – as a mental break – Erin knew too that he was well read. That all the books that Camille had amassed – he'd read near every one too. And they'd probably talked about them at some point. He probably knew why the Handmaid's Tale was one she'd kept. Because she didn't keep every book she read. They'd have to live in an archives building for that. But Erin hadn't been told what Camille might have thought of the book or why it'd been kept when Hank had handed to her. All she'd gotten was a grunt.
Erin had spent a bit of time trying to put herself in the headspace Camille might've been in at the time. When she was likely twenty-four or twenty-five. When she was just finishing up her education. And she was pregnant and she'd lost the baby. And she was a newly wed. And she was entering a field that was still dominated by men. When women and sciences weren't really scene as something that went together. And when she was starting to spend even more time in labs and out on boats and off in the woods with men than she'd likely had to to get her master's degree.
There could be a lot there that might've drawn her to the feminist literature and its themes and discussion of patriarchy and subjugation. And maybe that's what led to her keeping it and re-reading it over the years and decades since she acquired it. But Erin couldn't help but think that maybe the miscarriage had more to do why she'd picked it up at the time and maybe something she found in it back then. And been drawn more to the messages of hope, individualism and independence of person and identity in an oppressive and depressing reality.
Erin wondered a lot about how Camille had coped with that first miscarriage. She wondered more how you coped with repeated ones. The ones that Hank said they'd gone through. Erin wished she could talk to her about it. Ask her about it.
There was still so much of her that was … just scared that if she got pregnant that she'd miscarry again. And it was hard enough with an unplanned pregnancy. She wasn't sure she could completely wrap her head around how devastating it would be to lose a baby when you were actually trying for one. When you were actively trying to grow your family. She wasn't sure she wanted to try to understand that pain. She was sure she didn't ever want to experience it. And she was so scared she would. And she was scared too that maybe her body just wasn't made for having babies – despite her doctor's assurances otherwise. Or that maybe her and Jay just didn't click the right way for them to bring a baby to term successfully. And how … hurtful … and confusing … that would be in their relationship. If they could maintain a relationship if that was the reality.
She knew she was catastrophizing. And that maybe that meant she still wasn't quite in the spot where she was mentally ready to start trying. Because the stress and anxiety about all of it wouldn't make things any easier. And if she did get pregnant – it certainly wouldn't be good for making it stick or for the baby growing inside of her.
And all of that just made her want to talk to Camille more. To try to get some insight and reassurances. To try to understand if her and Hank stopped trying for all those years between the first miscarriage and Justin because she was scared too? Because she thought she couldn't go through that again too? And then to understand what changed to make them try. And to try for another baby after Justin was born. How they could try for that many years and go through that many miscarriages? How she managed to carry that loss? And just who scared she must've been through her whole pregnancy with Ethan? Even though Erin … she remembered Camille being so calm and casual about it all.
She knew that she could try to find someway to talk to Hank about it. But it was too deep and too personal for where they were quite at yet. And even if she did find it in herself to have a real conversation wit him – it'd again be skewed. Because he was a man. And, though, she knew he'd experienced loss and frustration and sadness and helplessness in it all too. It was different. She already knew that. One miscarriage with Jay was more than enough to know that.
"Should you?" Jay asked, tapping the book up in her lap again, drawing her out of her thoughts.
And she was glad for that. He sat clearly trying to read the back cover synopsis from where he was sitting. She just closed it and handed it to him instead. She wasn't sure she wanted to read anymore that day. Not now that he was there with her.
And he settled the bulking shopping bags he had in his hand – apparently him and Ethan had had a rather successful Birthday Saturday outing – between his feet and gazed at the text.
"I have a feeling most people should read it given our current political circumstances," she muttered.
He cast her a look at that and tapped the book on his knee a bit. "Any good?"
She shrugged. "Guess that depends on what you're judging," she said. "It's an interesting – and disturbing – thirty-year-old commentary. Barely science fiction anymore. Not even sure I'd say it's speculative."
Jay made a little noise again at that and handed the book back to her, but she just settled it into her lap and stared at him.
"You think you're still going to watch the series?" he asked.
And she shrugged. Because even though she'd seen some of the previews and the hype, she thought she needed a bit more time to digest the latest series they binged. She imagined processing Thirteen Reasons Why would take a while – before they dove into some other sad commentary on the society they lived in.
"Think I'm good sticking with Bosch next," she said.
He gave her a little smile at that but restrained himself from again making fun of her for watching the show. Really, if things were a bit better with her and Hank, she'd probably be coming over to sit on his couch and binge the series over a few nights. Not that it was really his kind of TV either – even if he read the books. But he'd sit with her. He'd watch.
Jay just gave her socked toes a little squeeze. "Or could hold off on any further binging until the end of the month," he offered. "House of Cards. Season Five."
She gave him her own little smile at that. Because she wasn't sure how much better the social commentary in House of Cards that season would be given their current political environment. But she also thought that the writers likely had to work hard to come up with a fiction that was more fucked up than the presidential reality in their country. Donald Trump made Frank Underwood look like a puppy dog most days.
But they'd watch it. At least it'd likely be entertaining – rather than the terrifying disgrace they had to read about and watch in the news. And they'd watch too because Jay was such a Kevin Spacey nerd.
She didn't know how many times she'd had to watch Seven and the Usual Suspects with him since being together. She supposed it said a lot about their lives – outside of work and outside of Ethan – that they spent their "free" time or their home time watching so much TV. But in some ways she knew they were both at a point in their lives that going out to the bars just wasn't the best thing for them. In any way. Not on a regular after-work basis. Either that or they were just getting old. And they were paying a mortgage on a house that was theirs. They might as well spend some time in it when they could. They were paying for it.
Paying for it wasn't a bad thing, though. In a lot of ways she thought too that having the house had helped them. Had helped Jay too. There was a calm about him. Even now. And even if trying to do the Lego build with Ethan with him tremoring had been frustrating, Jay still looked level. Impatience and frustration that he did so dismally at hiding wasn't radiating off of him. So his few hours with her little brother clearly hadn't gone that badly. And she was glad for that.
Because her and Jay had had a good morning. A nice one. They were in a stable place. Actually a nicer and stabler place than they'd likely been in in a long time. If ever. And she wanted to keep a hold of that.
"Where's Voight?" Jay asked. Quietly. Like he was just in the kitchen she'd gestured to moments before.
She gestured again. This time a bit farther. "Out back."
Jay nodded and leaned in, claiming a peck of a kiss from her. "Smells amazing outside," he said of the ribs Hank had smoking in the yard. Likely making the whole block jealous. "But in here smells even better."
She smiled at that little compliment. "Because I'm caking you a cake," she said.
Because he'd gone on-and-on about the from scratch chocolate cake his mom made for his and Will's birthdays growing up. On-and-on. And she'd taken the hint. That in the very least she should go out and buy him a chocolate cupcake for his birthday. But then there was the case and her kill shot and all its accompanying paperwork and the headspace she was in with all of that. And she hadn't even remembered to do that.
So she had more than a little to make up for. His birthday had been a bit of a dud – even though she knew he was used to that. And even though she knew he didn't particularly like having a big deal made out of him. But making a cake – even late – shouldn't have been a big deal. It shouldn't have been. It probably wouldn't have been if she used her common sense and just gone to the store and gotten a box of Betty Crocker and canned icing. And she could've had that bad guy done in all of forty-minutes.
But she'd decided to make things complicated. She decided he at least deserved a cake from scratch. And so not long after Jay had left to pick up Ethan, she'd driven over to Hank's too and stood going through Camille's old recipe card box. Which wasn't so much hers as it was a box containing faded and battered cards scrawled with her and Hank's mothers' writing laying out family recipes and traditions to pass down through the generations. And really one that if it was going to survive much long, someone should likely take the time to digitalize. But there was something nice – tangible – about going through that box with those two women's writing on them. Their little notations and simplified short-hand like something should be completely obvious and a given. But sometimes it really wasn't to Erin. But she'd still managed to find what she was looking for. Because the box was still Camille's and all hers – and the family's favorites – were stuffed in the front in the first twenty cards or so. And chocolate cake – that had been Justin's birthday request every year until his grandma died. Because try as she might – Camille just didn't do it right.
Erin was sure she wouldn't do it justice either. And that it wouldn't compare to whatever memories Jay had of the one his mom had made. But she'd tried. And it'd been a bit of an ordeal. Hank didn't exactly have baking supplies in the house. And she'd felt a little clueless going down the aisle too picking up some of the ingredients no matter how simple they were. And she'd still managed to screw up the batter the first time. Or so she thought. It sure didn't look like batter to her. And it hadn't to Hank either. He'd repeatedly told her that it wasn't supposed to look like that. He'd even taken over with the whisking and the stirring until they – or he – had finally concluded she'd fucked up and it was a lost cause. Though, not so much of a loss cause as she'd let her just scrape it into the garbage disposal. No. he still poured the batter into a pan and shoved it into the oven while she tried again. Not that what had come out looked edible at all. Maybe they could feed it to Bear. Or Ruzek.
She was surprised she'd even managed to get it into the oven before Jay and Ethan had returned it'd been such a prolonged disaster. And it still had to come out looking like they could eat it – even though it smelled good – and cool. And for her to figure out how to make icing and to ice the eat so it wasn't a crumbly mess. Something Hank had again pointed out to her she apparently always fucked up when she helped Camille with her own baking attempts as a teen. And really, Erin thought that comment was unnecessary. Because Camille's attempts at icing and decorating cakes were pretty disastrous all on their own. But she tried. And so was Erin. At least Camille's baking usually tasted good even if it looked a bit like a fluorescent dog's breakfast by the time she decorated it or spooned it onto a plate. Erin could hope she'd at least be able to also manage that level of proficiency at thirty-one. It didn't seem like too much to ask. It was probably more than Jay expected anyways.
"Lego, Star Wars, Guardians of the Galaxy, comics, cake and morning sex?" he cocked his eyebrow at her in a tease.
She just raised her own at him. "Lucky guy," she said.
"What kind of day is this?" he put back to her in mock sarcasm.
"Almost like it's your birthday or something."
He just allowed her another quiet smile – the one that gave away that he kind of liked that he was getting a little bit of extra attention that weekend, even if it was a few days after his birthday. And even if he usually acted like he didn't want much attention or special treatment at all. He leaned in though and gave her another little kiss. He lingered a bit longer that time. And she let him – and let her fingers come up and thread through the back of his short hair.
And that was as far as it would go that day. Or afternoon. But it'd gone much farther that morning.
Because he did get his birthday sex. His morning sex that he liked so much and seemed to favor. Even if it was also a few days late. For a birthday lay.
Erin wasn't even really sure that when she'd initiated that morning it had anything to do with giving him a birthday lay anyway. It actually was a little more selfish. That she wanted and needed the closest too after the week and the case and some of their talks with Ethan and her own anxiety and worries about all of it – just all of it - as she tried to process everything that was going on in her life and their life and her family life lately.
So she'd just wanted to grab the opportunity while it was there. Before he tired to get up not to quietly on a Saturday morning they weren't scheduled to go for his run or to the gym or take some of his own me-time and alone-time to try to deal with some of his own issues and thoughts and things that needed to be processed. So she'd made her move. She'd initiated when she'd felt him stirring in the bed next to her. And he'd been more than happy to oblige. Because she thought he needed it too – and not a birthday lay. The closeness and the affection and the comfort and the intimacy too.
It hadn't been spectacular sex. But it hadn't been bad. Just not anything particularly special if they were going to pretend it had actually been his birthday lay. So maybe it was better they didn't. That it'd just been sex. Morning sex. And she wasn't really sure morning sex ever was anywhere near being particularly spectacular - in her books, even if it was nice to wake up to. Even then she usually preferred to start her morning by emptying her bladder and brushing her teeth before there was any kind of sex involved. It was also kind of nice to have the option of going to sleep after sex. So she generally much preferred their evening looks and banter that was really just their foreplay and would ultimate devolve – or evolve – into make-out sessions on the couch and in the kitchen at night as they tried to spool down from their days.
But that morning had still been nice. It had been needed. By both of them. Because it was another one of those weeks that even though they lived together and worked together it'd kind of felt like they were ships passing in the night. They saw each other. But they didn't get to do a lot of talking. And the talking they did hadn't been about real stuff. Important stuff. To them. Things beyond work or the case or Ethan and all the bullshit that was going on with him.
And Erin could tell Jay was happy with his birthday lay too. Or at least that he'd gotten morning sex. Or maybe that she'd been the one to initiate that day. Maybe too happy. Because he'd laid on his side gazing at her after with that silly little boy grin that he got that said he was pretty proud of his performance. Or that he still had some sort of shocked amazement about just how the human bodies worked. Or that he was still surprised that women actually slept with him. That she actually slept with him. Like that was some mind-boggling idea that made him a little giddy. Not that he'd like her using that word. But that smile he got after some of their sessions just said so much. About him. About the man he was. And about the little boy – or the insecure kid or teen – that was still in there somewhere. Because he'd been through a lot. She knew that. Not matter what he said – and didn't say – about all of that. What he didn't say – but how he acted … and reacted – actually said a hell of a lot more than most of the things he said.
Still, the way he'd been looking at her that morning had been different for him. Different behavior. Because usually Jay was up and out of bed doing his clean up faster than she was. And dressed. Him using excuses of hydrating or making up for the calories they'd burnt did little to hide the more likely past trauma that still made him not that comfortable lounging around – staying naked. Vulnerable. Even with her.
But he'd stayed with her that morning. He'd just lay there and smiled. So she'd stayed – there, with him – even though they lay like that for much longer than she normally would too. But she'd smiled back at him until he finally said, "I like having sex with you."
It was so ridiculously awkward and goofy – especially with that grin on his face – that she'd nearly laughed. Though, she was glad she hadn't. That she'd just smiled a little wider and raised her eyebrow at him. And he'd quickly realized how silly what he'd said sounded.
"I like having sex with you too," she put back to him with just a touch of patronizing tone.
The smile had faded a little on his face. He'd fidgeted for a moment.
"I meant … I meant … I just … like … how comfortable it is," he stuttered rather uncharacteristically as he struggled to explain himself.
She'd only reached out and rubbed at his bicep. Because she was only teasing him. Because he didn't need to feel uncomfortable about how it'd come out or his word choice.
"And, I like how comfortable I am with you too," she'd offered.
He'd gazed at her. She could see him turning inward. Reassessing what he'd said and why he'd said it. Doing that little internal self-evaluation and degradation that he seemed to do to himself. Unfairly. Because he'd spent so much of his life feeling like he was held to unfair standards – maybe actually being held at unfair standards – that he now held himself at near impossible standards. And was harder on himself than really anyone could be to him at this point in his life. He had too many walls and too think of shell for much ammunition to get through and penetrate him.
But she didn't want him holing up in that little prison he'd created for himself. That hole that he had had that was likely deeper than hers in its own ways. That he liked to stick his head in and hide in – even if he didn't quite look at it that way. But she wanted to keep seeing that silly little grin on his face and that calm that was radiating off his body. She didn't want him to slam up the walls, and adding bricks and mortar to repair any of the cracks he'd let form. Or the ones she'd been spending years chipping at.
So she just kept rubbing at his bicep while he calmed and centered himself. Moving her hand down his arm to grip at his hand. And he stared at her too until he finally reached and pushed her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Until he rested his hand on her head and his fingers played across her cheekbones and his thumb swiped gently at her beauty mark. And they'd lay like that again for what felt like a long time until he started talking again. Until he was really spilling his guts in a way she wasn't used to hearing out of him.
He'd told her that he hadn't meant it "that way". That he meant … that he liked sex but that he didn't particularly like the human or relationship part of it before. Which didn't sound so much like he liked sex to her. But at the same time she understood exactly what he was saying all too well. Because she'd been there too. She'd dealt with those feelings too. The wants and the physical needs and the bad choices and wrong people that came with it just to fulfill that.
He'd said that he'd always felt so awkward and so judged when he'd attempted relationships that spanned more than a few weeks or a couple months. That he'd felt like he was using who he was with. And he usually was on some level. And Erin knew that feeling too. Though, she would say there really hadn't been too many relationships in her life that had lasted more than a couple months ever. And she openly acknowledged that most of the men she'd been with she'd been using to fulfill her own needs on some level.
But he'd said that he didn't feel that way with her – in their relationship. And she understood that too. Because she felt the same. Because they had a real relationship. Her longest relationship. His. And the dynamics and love and sex and everything else that came in that kind of relationship was different than something that only lasted a couple lays or a couple weeks or a couple months. It could be amazing. But it was also a lot of fucking work. It was hard. But there was something about it that was more than worth it. Because it was comfortable – in so many ways – like he said. Even though in other ways it was just as uncomfortable. At times.
Jay said he knew that they had their good sessions and bad sessions. In the bedroom. And Erin knew that was true just as much in their daily lives and routines and quirks and habits. There were good moments and bad moments. There was good and bad in both of them. They weren't perfect.
And Jay acknowledged that too. That they had their hang ups and their baggage. Their likes and dislikes. Their wants and needs. But he didn't feel like he needed to prove himself to her anymore. And she knew even though the conversation had started about the bedroom – they weren't just talking about in the bedroom. And he was right. She felt it too. She trusted him. He trusted her. It didn't mean they didn't hurt each other or frustrate each other. It didn't mean they didn't royally fuck up sometimes. Or just want their space. And it definitely didn't mean they had any clue what they were doing. But there was a pressure off them. With how far they were into this thing –whatever this thing was … life? – it wasn't about proving themselves anymore. It was about staying power. Endurance. Patience. Hard work. And those were things they were both good at. Even when they weren't. Or at least when they didn't want to be.
Jay had said that even with their issues and challenges it all still felt comfortable. And he liked feeling that way. And so did Erin.
He'd fidgeted more as he told her that he hadn't really been in a long enough term relationship before to have ever had sex so regularly or consistently without dry spells and to consistently be with the same person. And he hadn't needed to fidget. Because she knew that about him too. And she didn't care. She liked that about him. But he'd said that what he meant – what he was trying to say – was that he'd never realized how having regular access to sex helped him. Not with just the physical release of tension – but with his emotional and mental stability. And she could understand that too. She'd felt that too. This strange process they were working through had made them closer. And she wasn't sure it was a closeness she would ever feel or experience again. Nor would she really want to with anyone else. She couldn't imagine having it with anyone else.
He'd acknowledged that even though he knew they both still had stuff to work through and that things weren't perfect in the bedroom or their lives or their relationship – that he felt really content and supported and stable. And just close to her in a way he hadn't really known existed. Or maybe hadn't believed existed. And she knew that feeling too. As imperfect as Jay was – as flawed – in a lot of ways she felt he was too good to be true – to her or for her. But it also made her want to work for him – and to keep and build that relationship.
He'd agreed in his base language that he just really liked their relationship. For all the rough patches they had and the ups and downs. That even though he still felt like he didn't really know what exactly they were doing or how to do any of this – love, marriage, family – that he still liked it. Loved it. And loved her. And she'd assured him that she felt the same way. And that she didn't think anyone knew what they were doing. But she thought they had more than a fighting chance. And that they had the persistence to keep slogging through. That they would. Because something this … good or right … it was worth fighting for.
Jay had blabbered on in a way that was so … not him. He was usually so prudent with his words. To the point. And not much of a talker. But he must've needed to talk. He must've been wanting to say it. Or thinking about it a bit.
She wondered what had pushed him over that edge. If it'd been something at work and the caseload they'd had lately. If it'd been some of what was going on with Ethan. If it'd been some of the talks they'd had while watching Thriteen Reasons Why and what it'd dredged up about both of their pasts and youths. And then mixed that into what they saw Ethan going through then too and all their own worries about what high school was going to be like for him. If it'd been some of what was going on with the Will and Nina situation. Or maybe more the Will and Natalie situation. And the dynamic and tension that was creating between the brothers and the own way it was bring up the past. Or maybe it was more their dad's heart and how he was taking ill and how Jay didn't even want to talk about that or visit him or have anything to do with the whole situation. And she knew that was causing its own weight and just making Jay grapple with more shadows from his past that she wasn't sure he was ready to – or wanted to – deal with.
Or maybe the timing might have more to do with them seeing Guardians of the Galaxy the night before. And for a silly, blow-'em-up super hero movie – it'd been a rather heavy and emotional story. One that dealt with what made up family – and it wasn't blood. One that dealt with siblings and all the hurt and trauma and rivalry that came with that. One that dealt with the relationships between fathers and sons and fathers and daughters. And adoption. What's a father and who's a Daddy. And it'd been a whole overall discussion of varying levels of trauma and abandonment and trying to find your place and survive in a pretty cruel galaxy.
It might've been light viewing. But it also wasn't. Ethan had come out of it telling her that not only was she Gamora now – she was Gamora with a heavy side of Star Lord. And he had a point. He'd also absorbed that her and Jay had been "pathetic" enough to find each other. Which, within the conjecture of the film and in actual reality, was a fair point too.
But she thought the movie had affected them all. She hadn't known that a fucking Marvel movie could elicit that much emotion. Could hit at emotional cores and realities so accurately – at least for them. For all of them. And Ethan – who'd originally had intended to sleepover at their place had said he wanted to go home. And Erin had walked him in and watched him go and hug Hank near immediately. His Yondu. Or maybe more accurately – hers. And the stark reality that she could see – she knew … at her core – that Hank's end … for her … for any of his kids … might be similar. Right up until the wheels fell off. And he'd carry them right through – to as much safety as he could – while they did. And he'd given her a strange look at Eth's hug and an even stranger one when she'd taken a good night hug before taking her leave too.
Her and Jay hadn't talked about the movie when they got home. Not really. Except to agree they'd both really liked it. That she liked it far more than the first one she'd been forced to watch so many times. And that the music had been fun too. They'd looked up the soundtrack and flipped through Hank and Camille's old records they'd inherited to see what they had. Some. But Jay had still gone ahead and downloaded the fucking movie soundtrack anyway. And they'd just not talked. They'd lay there on the couch, listening to the music and watching sports highlights on mute. Just sharing space.
But she was glad for it. Glad that Ethan had wanted to go home to his dad. That maybe whatever he saw in the movie had made him talk a bit to his dad. And that maybe it was the straw that broke the camels back in everything they had going on in getting Jay to decide he wanted to talk now.
Because he kept going. He said too that even though he knew the townhouse wasn't perfect and wasn't their ideal situation or location – that he loved having it too. Having their own place. Making it theirs. That that provided stability too. And he was right. It did. In a way that was different than the condo. Because this was theirs. They were in it together. And it wasn't a crash pad. It was home.
He'd said that he loved their front room and their music set up. And so did she. And he loved their kitchen island. And she thought he more meant he loved the height of the kitchen island – for when they were fooling around – but she didn't correct him. Though maybe she should've. It probably would've gotten that little twinkle in his eyes again.
He said he loved the basement "family room", he called it, with his big TV. That he loved how bright their bedroom was and that the closet was big enough for them both to have their own space. And that he loved their walk-in shower in the master suite. Even though it didn't have dual power jet-head sprays.
That he loved the patio terrace on their rooftop and he couldn't wait to really start getting the grill going on a regular basis. And he'd given her a little look like she was again going to give him a little jab about that grill being her birthday present. But she didn't. Because she was looking forward to their time up on the roof too. And having some people over … Kim, Will, Nina … or maybe Natalie? … and maybe Annie and Travis too. And, obviously, Hank and Ethan and Olive and Henry. And even when they didn't have people over – being able to sit up there after a long shift with beer and tunes in the summer.
He said that he was thinking about getting a basketball net to roll in and out of the garage to play in the back laneway. Because he thought that might be fun too. For him and Will. Even though Erin was pretty sure the only time Will stood on his feet and got anything resembling activity was in the ED. But she also knew about the only time Jay and Will really talked was when they had something else in their hands to distract themselves from the conversation at hand. Or at least to keep them from punching or strangling one another. And it was a method that Erin already saw Jay using with Ethan too. And he'd said he thought Eth might like the net. Maybe for when he and Eva were hanging out at their house.
And he'd said those magic words. That the townhouse – it felt like a home. Not just a home. A family home. And he could really see them building their family there. Even though none of it was what they expected. That it hadn't been what they were looking at when they were shopping around for places. It hadn't been the vision in their of their mind's eyes when they imagined where they might be living or what their house and home might look like if and when they had kids in the picture. But the townhouse felt like home. Now. Already. And they could both see – imagine with some reality now – what it might feel like to have kids in the picture in it. Because Eth and Henry gave them those glimpses. Because they already had toys in the house and took the boys over to the neighboring park and down the block to the community center and pool. And it felt like a place to raise a family. For them to be a family.
And Erin felt all that too.
Jay said that he knew things were exhausting and frustrating between work and Ethan. And life. And their families. But that he'd been feeling a sense of calm about their future lately. About the decisions they were making and what they were working towards. And that he was glad Ethan was in their lives. That he felt like having Eth around had really helped him too. To calm and stabilize and focus. To see that future and to understand what it would look like and feel like. And he liked it. That he liked the neighborhood. That he didn't mind they were near Hank's – because he liked the routine of having some family stuff too. Even though he also knew that whole situation was far from perfect too. Not with her family and not with his. But it was something. It worked.
It felt like they had a family and they had a home. And those were things he hadn't felt in a long time.
Some of what he was spouting – the language he was using – Erin knew some of what he was saying was topics he must've touched on in his therapy. That he'd talked through. That maybe he'd even practiced saying or talking through to ready himself to try to express these things. Because Jay struggled so much with talking. But she also knew if he was able to verbalize it now – to her – the therapy must be helping him. And he needed that. And it made her happy to see it. To hear it out of him. Because it meant he was making progress. And he was trying – for himself and for her and for them. And he hopefully meant he was healing. Even if he was still struggling to find the words and was expressing some of his feelings and thoughts in clunky and muted and around-about ways.
But it'd lead to some honest, real talk between them. As they tried to wade through some of the good and the bad and the ugly. But even what that Jay just kept coming back to repeating that he felt more stable and content and happy than he had in a long time. Maybe than he'd ever felt. And he liked that. He loved her for helping him get there. Even though Erin wasn't sure how much she'd done. And she wasn't sure if his repetition of expression meant that he was quite there yet – that he was still trying to convince himself – but she thought he was moving in that direction. And she did believe that there was truth to the stability and contentment and happiness he was talking about. Because she felt that way too. Even on the frustrating and the hard days – she knew the things she was feeling and going through – were things she hadn't experienced in a long time. Emotions and sensations that maybe she hadn't ever really felt either. Not in that way. And maybe hadn't really known were real or within her reach.
It'd ultimately lead to a gentleness between them. One that had evolved into them making love. A slow process without any hurry or urgency. With deeper eye contact than they usually made and lighter touch as they caressed and held each other. And that time the sex had been better. Spectacular even. But it also wasn't just sex that they'd been having. And she thought that was something they could both agree on to.
He'd smiled at her again when they'd finished. Caressed at her face and her hip and the outside of her thighs and ran his thumb against her abs. And he'd told her how beautiful she was. More words that he didn't usually use. And even though she knew from the look he got in his eyes and the way his body reacted to her and the things he did to her body – that he was attracted to her. But it was different to hear those words. She didn't think many people had used those words about her before. And sometimes she didn't feel so beautiful. She just felt damaged. And she didn't want people to see that. Or for them to say things about her outside appearance or physicality like she was some sort of princess or porcelain doll. But hearing Jay say it was different. And it'd made her smile too.
He'd eventually let his eyes drift shut. Really drift shut. He'd actually slept. And that was something Jay rarely – if ever – did in the immediacy of sex. But it was like he'd let so much off his chest – he'd opened up enough and gotten rid of a weight and anxiety – that his body had finally let him sleep. Really sleep.
Though, she lay with him for a while – watching him - she'd eventually gotten up and showered and dressed and gone down and made him breakfast. It was almost ready before she heard him up and taking his own shower before he appeared downstairs. It was pushing 10 a.m. – a very late start to the day by Jay's standards. But he was still smiling then. And he was still smiling now as he settled back from their kiss.
"How'd it go?" she asked, gesturing to his shopping bags.
He glanced up the stairs – clearly gauging where Ethan was and if he could hear them. "He is stoned off his gourd," he put to her quietly.
"Mmm …," Erin allowed and darted her eyes up the stairs too. She hadn't heard movement for a bit. Not since the toilet had flushed and his crutches had clattered into his bedroom. But he was taking a long time to just be getting his weighted gloves.
"Did Hank give him the cannabis oil?" he asked.
Erin shrugged but shook her head. "He would've mentioned."
Jay made a sound and looked up the stairs too. "You'll have to look at his eyes when he comes down. Dilated and just … off. He's really shaking today."
She made another small sound of acknowledgment at that. "I talked to him about that," she said with a little gesture back through the kitchen. "He's going to call the neurologist on Monday. See if we can get him in for an evaluation before all the scans and tests the trial has him slotted for in June."
Jay made another sound of acknowledgement and kept looking up the stairs.
"Hank thinks … hopes … some of it is just … anxiety," she said.
Jay nodded. "Yea …," he agreed.
"He might've given him that other anxiety med," she said. "Why he's acting stoned."
Jay nodded. "Maybe …," he allowed but pulled his eyes away from the stairs. He was likely coming to the same conclusion as her – that Eth might've sat down on the bed and devolved into a nap quickly. But if that's what his body was telling him it needed – so be it. "Did Voight get anything else out of him about some of that stuff he said to you the other night?"
She gave a little nod and let out a slow breath. "You know how he uses the stalls or the accessibility bathroom rather than the urinals?" she put to him.
It'd just been something they had to ingrain into him. Between the tremors and how fumbling Eth was with balancing on the crutches and dealing with buttons and zippers on his fly – it just made more sense for him to have some more privacy so he wasn't splashing urine across the entire bathroom floor or himself. He also usually sought out privacy at Iggy's when changing for gym. As much as the fucking school let him participate in gym. But Eth needed extra time to change out and he really didn't want or need those kids seeing more of his scarring than they already knew existed.
Jay just nodded, though. Because he knew all that.
"Apparently, that's the 'evidence' the little assholes are using that he's hiding something," she said. "Or more specifically hiding his alleged lack of a penis."
Jay shook his head. "Eth's got more gonads than any of those fuckers."
"Did he say anything to you today?" she asked.
Jay made a little shrug. "That Holly might be feeding the unnamed little fuck supposed intel."
Erin squinted at him and then shock her head and glared out the window. "What'd she see? Or think she saw?" she muttered.
"Evan showing Eth how to grip a ball to throw a curve and coaching him on the movement of his arm. And the flick of the wrist," he said, raising his eyebrow at her.
"She's turned into such a little bitch," she glared out the window. "It's just …"
She didn't even know. She was about ready to get that girl cornered and give her a piece of her own mind. Put her in her place. But it might end with her spitting on the bitch. Likely conduct unbecoming of a police officer. But she also wasn't sure she cared. This kid's behavior was pretty unbecoming of a reasonable human being. She didn't understand why the hell the little girl next door was putting her baby brother through this bullshit. At all. Or at least feeding into it. To the fucking pariahs at Ignatius. The ones who just needed a reason.
She let out a sigh and turned her eyes back to Jay, though. Because there wasn't much they could do about it right now. She wasn't even sure how much any of them could do. That Hank would talk to Caruso again. That he'd likely go talk to Holly's mom again. That if Ethan gave the kid's name to them – they'd go talk to the parents. Lay down the riot act. But Erin also didn't know that any of that would really improve the situation for Eth or just make it worse.
"Did he at least have fun today?" she asked instead. Because she'd accepted the reality that in more ways than they wanted Eth looked forward to his time at home and with his dad and with them and his weekends and the things that they and Hank did with him. They were his distraction most days.
Jay nodded and gazed down at the bags. "I'm not sure if I should show you," he said. "He seemed pretty excited about showing his dad the comics he picked."
"Yea?"
Jay nodded and leaned forward to riffle through the bags a bit. "Were able to get ten. Five each. Should him busy for a bit. Hopefully the EA too." He pulled out a Guardians of the Galaxy one and flashed it at her. She allowed an amused smile. "I'll let him show you the rest. There's some detective one. He's excited to show Hank that."
She allowed a thin smile. "Good," she said but gestured at the bags again – particularly the rather large Lego bag. "Looks like the Lego trip was successful too."
Jay made a small sound at that and raised an eyebrow at her. "Without the gloves, shaking so bad that I had to put together the Build Day sets for him."
He dug in the bag and handed her a little thing that she sort of recognized as a Star Wars ship though she couldn't say which one. She would hazard a guess that it was a villainous ship just based on all black blocks. She also got handed a little blue and orange ship that she was able to sort of recognize as something sort of resembling Star Lord's space ship in the movie the night before.
"Near tears for most of it," Jay said. Drawing her attention away from trying to figure out what the hunks of plastic in her hands were. "Had to talk him down."
She sighed and handed the little ships back to him to return to the bag. "That why that bag looks a lot bigger than the ones that usually bring home his Microfighters?"
Jay allowed a sort of guilty grin at that and shrugged. "There was a ten bucks off coupon for if you spent at least twenty-five bucks on Star Wars Lego. Usually spend fifteen on him … so …"
"So …," she put back to him, raising her eyebrow.
He shrugged again and pulled a Star Wars set out of the bag half-way for her to gaze at. She instead gazed at the 263 pieces on the front of the box. "You think that's smart when he's tremoring?"
Jay just set it back down in the bag. "See how he is after his nap. Has he had his propranolol yet?"
"Doubt it," she said. He usually got it in the afternoons. Not that it mattered. Because it sure didn't seemed to be helping with his tremors much lately anyways.
"I'll help him," Jay allowed flatly. Which would mean they wouldn't be leaving for a while.
"Looks like you got more than that," she said.
Jay gave her a more wryly grin and fully pulled a Lego Technic set of a motorcycle out of the bag. "Apparently my birthday present," he said. "From Hank and Eth."
She raised her eyebrow at him. "Just what you need …"
He shrugged at her and gazed with a touch of little boy glee at the set. "You should be happy," he said. "It's likely as close as you'll let me get to a motorcycle."
"You've got that right," she said.
He just smiled at her. "I know just where to put it when I'm done."
"Back in the box?" she suggested.
"Keep dreaming," Jay said.
She shook her head and gestured at the last bag. "Did you find the shoes?"
He reluctantly put the Lego down but nodded with a similar level of enthusiasm and pulled the show box out of the bag and lifted the lid to display the runners to her. She allowed a little nod. They were running shoes. She could only get so excited about them. Though, she was slightly more excited about them than the Lego. At least they served a supposedly useful prupose. Even though Jay seemed to collect shoes – or at least running shoes – at a rate that would put most female shoe addicts to shame. Different pair for every outfit … or sport, or activity. But if it kept him happy and healthy – and she could continue to enjoy his body and know he had the physical fitness to help keep him safe – she didn't think it was an entire waste of money. And at least it meant she'd get to stop hearing about these shoes. That had the whatever that did the whatever.
Her face must've said something, though, because he looked a little reluctantly into the box. "Yea, I know," he said with a touch of regret. "I really shouldn't have spent this kind of money on shoes."
She reached and gave his forearm a little squeeze until he looked at her. "Jay, you hardly ever spend money on yourself. You're allowed to treat yourself sometimes. And it's your birthday."
He gave a little nod and closed the box, setting it on the couch next to him. "Well, they're a pretty good birthday present. So thanks."
She gave a little shrug. Not much of a birthday present when she'd basically told him to go out and pick it out and buy it for himself. But she'd half-ways accept the thanks.
"Voight just babysitting the ribs?" he asked.
"Mmm …," she allowed. "He's having a bit of a Camille day."
She wasn't sure what had stirred it. But she suspected that it might've been something Ethan had said or disclosed to him. Though, her showing up and wanting to go through the recipe box and then destroying one of Camille's recipes likely hadn't helped. Still, she gestured at the book and waved over at the turntable that he had Tea for Tillerman playing. Again, Cat Stevens was a favorites of Camille's – and likely his – but she almost wondered if Eth had said something about Guardians of the Galaxy and Yondu and Peter Quill and that final scene as Father and Son played. Another song that likely said too much about their family. And maybe his relationship with Ethan but more likely his relationship with Justin. And he was likely feeling that loss that day as much as Camille's. Not that he'd said anything of the sort. But he also didn't have to not with the way he was acting.
"I think he's working on the garden," was all she said, though. "He likes to do the planting on Mother's Day weekend. Next weekend. … Tradition."
Jay allowed a little nod. "He okay?" he asked, cautiously. The underlying tone had a question. If they should leave. If Hank really wanted them there for dinner – for Jay's birthday dinner – if he was having a day where he was thinking about his wife. And likely about his lost son too.
Erin just nodded. "He's okay. His lovely self," she said and pointed at the pre-worn slit in the knees of her distressed jeans. "Wanted to know how much extra I paid to have holes in the knees."
Jay smiled and slipped his finger between the fabric and poked at her skin and bones. "Likely a valid question."
"Also got grumbled at about how much time and money him and Camille put in to get my clothes that didn't have holes in them for me to be going on and spending money on ripped up clothes all on my own."
Jay smiled wider. "Also likely a valid point."
She raised her eyebrow at that. "And I was told these constitute unacceptable work attire."
"Ah," Jay said and pulled his hand out of the slit in the fabric. "So does that mean you'll be wearing them on Monday?"
She just grinned and shrugged.
"Shit-disturber," he put to her flatly.
She gave him a gentle kick in the thigh but wasn't going to argue it. But she'd put up with Hank long enough that she was allowed to push some of his buttons and test some of the bounds. She figured it was partially in her job description. In the father-daughter contract.
"He wants to know if it's okay for Olive and Henry to come over for dinner," she said.
He gave her a funny look. "Yea, of course."
She shrugged. "Your birthday. He's letting you define the guest list."
He snorted some sort of amusement at that. "Family," was all he said.
She nodded. Though, it was strange to hear him say it and sometimes she still wondered how much he believed it. But they were family. He was family too. "Did you want to call Will and Nina? See if they have plans?"
But she got a worse face at that. Will had definitely rubbed Jay the wrong way that week. More than once. Likely the past several weeks. Or really their whole lives. But not showing at Molly's for a birthday drink with the unit, "making up for it" by inviting him out for a drink the next day which Jay went to thinking was just the two of them but ended up putting him in the awkward situation of sitting at a table with Will, Nina and Natalie, and then flaking out on the hockey game had pretty much placed Jay's brother in the bad books for the moment. Will spent a lot of time there and he didn't seem to show a whole lot of initiative in trying to get out of them. He actually seemed to be pretty good at finding new ways to get in there over and over – by pushing all Jay's buttons and saying all the wrong things (or the right things to push those buttons). But, Erin supposed that was something else that family – especially siblings – were good at.
But Jay just pulled himself up from the couch. "I'll let him know about Olive," he said.
She gave a little nod and watched him walk toward the dining room entry way. But he stopped as he did – having spotted the little pile of a few neatly wrapped gifts sitting there on the table. And a balloon tied to the one chair with a few colorful birthday cake plates sitting in front of it. He turned at her and squinted with some surprise and some discomfort. Some sort of happiness. Or need for reassurance. Or maybe it was more that happiness, stability, contentment and comfort that she saw in his eyes again but he was struggling to figure out how to process that and what to do with it.
So she shrugged at him. "It's like it's your birthday or something," she said. "And you're family."
And there's was nothing like about that. And nothing like it.
And a little smile tugged at the corners of his unsure mouth, as he turned and gazed again at the little set up. In honor of him. Because he mattered. And was included. And was loved. And respected. And deserved to be celebrated sometimes. Even if it made him a little uncomfortable in his comfortable stability.
AUTHOR NOTE:
So I've watched the finale. So anyone that was refraining from commenting on the previous two chapters — or to DM about it — please feel free to do so now.
I won't say much about the finale beyond that it pretty much went the way I expected it to go based on the previews and the direction of the series. I also feel like the whole "Erin's leaving" thing is overdone on the show. And I don't believe that her departure will last more than three episodes. I think it's actually more likely that it will be resolved in the first. If she actually even leaves.
I think Eid moving to CPD and him restaffing the show is more interesting. Though, I'm concerned about what that might mean for the show, I'm also sort of hopeful that new blood in the writer's room might yield something more like the First Season of the series and the original direction it was going in with a semi-serialized morally grey police drama. Rather than a Dick Wolf procedural. However, given Eid's history on DW productions and what he did on SVU this season (which i liked because I didn't like how the show became less about cases and more about personal stories of the characters — but I also don't watch CPD just for its cases and I don't think it's a show just about cases and I'm concerned that Eid will turn it more into a case-driven police , for me, will make the series even less enjoyable than it's become.
As for how the finale will fit into this AU — I haven't decided yet. The reality is that I think it would be really interesting to play with Erin telling Ethan about that and his reaction to the news. I also think there could be some interesting exploration for Jay and Erin's relationship. As well as Hank and Erin's and Jay and Hank's. Also for some time I've wanted to do a bit of a CPD-SVU crossover story or chapters and to give Eth (and possibly Hank) a trip to NYC. This could be the opportunity to do that. However, I also wouldn't present it as a permanent thing — because I think/know it's going to be extremely temporary on the show too.
But — the reality is that playing with that would take time and I'm not able to write as regularly right now and there's still arcs and scenes and stories I want to explore already from this season and within So It Goes and Aftermath. So I'm not sure starting a new arc that would require multiple chapters to fully explore would be bright. Or what I want to write right now. I might. I might not. As I've said previously, I already have several other arcs in here I'm working at completing as well as several other ideas I want to pick away at.
For the people who've asked about if/when I'm going to work on From the Get — the answer, is yes, I do intend to work on it. When? I'm not quite sure as there are some things I'm rolling on and wanting to wrap in So It Goes right now. So we'll see.
For the people who've asked about the Christmas chapters and a bit more resolution in Aftermath — the answer is still that I'm not sure how much more I'm going to do with it. Maybe a few more chapters. But again, right now I'm working on wrapping a couple things in So It Goes.
For the few guest reviewers from my SVU stories that keep putting reviews in here asking about if/when I'm going to update Welcome Home or do a new Jack/Benji story in that AU to provide some resolution — the answer is that I really don't know, but I doubt it. As it's been pointed out — it has been a year now since I updated. And, at this point I don't fully remember where the story was going in the immediacy (overall, yes — the sequence, no). I also feel like I've lost the tone and speaking patterns of the characters. And, that I generally really don't enjoy SVU or the presentation and characterization of Benson anymore on the series so I don't actively watch it and haven't for a couple years. Yes, I do miss the Jack and Benji characters and Liv's interactions with them. And sometimes I have a desire to try to write some more or ideas for new chapters or where they might be in their lives at this point. But that's not something I will likely be pursuing anytime soon.
However, there is a small possibility that you might see some crossover in these CPD stories. Possibly with Jack (you may remember that his girlfriend was from Chicago). And possibly again with Benson — especially if Erin goes to NYC and any of the other characters go for a visit. I do have an idea for a sequence in this AU that involves Jack. But again, it's not high on the priority list.
Anyway, hopefully that answers some of your questions.
And hopefully you enjoy the chapter. Your readership, reviews and feedback are appreciated.
The chapters haven't been reordered in a while because of the lack of alerts (which some people have told me is now fixed) and also because of that there was a decline in readership numbers and reviews. So you might want to go back several chapters to make sure you haven't missed anything.