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 IS A DIRECT CONTINUATION OF THE CHAPTER IMMEDIATELY BEFORE THIS — BE THERE.
They'd eventually cajoled Eth into moving outside. He hadn't really put up much of a fuss but hadn't seemed too interested either. But the offer of cracking open the Lego set to see what it involved seemed to pique some of his interest. Or maybe it was more the fact that he was in his cuddle mode – or was hurting enough and aware enough himself that he was just off that day – that he didn't want to be left in the house alone and was willing to trail after them. Just to be near the adults.
Still, it'd been a decent way to put in some time. Lego. Spring sunshine. A deck. Beer in hand.
That beer, though, had been another clue that Erin's family – Voight – were actually marking the day as his day. Another just … strange reality. This little clicking mechanism going on in his head about the way shit had changed and how far they'd come. And him weighing how he felt about that. What it meant. While trying not to show physically that it was affecting him in any way. Trying to not even show he was thinking about it. Trying to … not so much be distance or aloof, though maybe he was. But it was more he was trying to … not be awkward. Because even though there were things he really more than liked about … having what seemed like a pretty normal dysfunctional family to him … he also didn't really know how to be that. How to function in it. He didn't really know what part he was supposed to have or play in all of it. Even though he knew he had a fucking part. And a fucking role.
But maybe that was strange.
Because Voight rarely drank beer. Jay had seen him have a pop while he grilled a handful of times the past couple summers. But it was abundantly clear that Voight usually reached for his whiskey, rye or bourdon. In that order. And had designated meals – and meats – where wine was the go-to option.
It was this other strange message about the guy. That on the exterior he looked a certain way. He had a certain type of job. That he lived in this specific neighborhood. That he projected this certain persona. But as much as he was that guy – that stereotype – he wasn't.
The guy had some quiet sophistication to him. This bit of culture. This fucking open-mindedness and even sort of a liberal artsy side that you more than caught glimpses of when you were allowed into his life. He wasn't just a working man. And he wasn't apologetic about that. Just like everything else in Voight's life – he didn't give much explanation. He didn't really give a shit what you thought about it. He did things his way. And lives his life his way. And that was it.
And somewhere in there was the message that even if he was – working-class, middle-income, Chicago cop – it didn't mean you had to live and be a certain way. He'd learned some of that with Olinsky too.
It was just another change from what he'd grown up around. They didn't try to hide who they were or what they'd grown up as or the ways they were raising their family – where. They didn't try to be more or less than their job. They lived and died by their jobs. But they also didn't let where they'd lived – or grown-up – or what they did define who they were.
Being a cop in Chicago, living in the Near West on the outskirts of the Italian Village – being working class – didn't mean you couldn't be more. Be interested in more. Have taste. Have culture. Have thoughts and experiences and opinions and ways of going about doing things that went beyond some angry, bitter, working-class grunt.
You could still be true to yourself. And didn't need to offer any apologies for it. Or try to be something different to give you reason to like what you liked or be what and who were you were.
And Jay fucking liked that.
It was transparent. He liked that's how Voight lived his life. Even though he had grey areas and made choices that Jay didn't like quite as much. But he did like that his life wasn't all some optical illusion. It wasn't living some lie and being fucking angry with others for having more than you. Or for wanting more than you. Or less. It wasn't dragging people down for being what and who they were. Placing unfounded expectations on them about what and who you wanted them to be.
And Jay had never been the what and who his father wanted to be. Will had tried a whole lot harder than him to be that what and who and had still fallen short. Because it was an unbeatable test. It was the fucking Kobayashi Maru. And it was bullshit.
He'd stopped trying. Long ago. And he'd told himself he stopped caring. Because his dad didn't get him. And didn't want to get him. and he likely never would.
So he'd shaped himself the way he wanted. Or at least he'd shaped himself the way life had shaped him and he'd fought with it and against it a long the way. For better or worse. So maybe he still was a fucking angry, working-class white man. But he also wasn't. He knew that. He wasn't ashamed of being Irish Catholic in Chicago. He wasn't ashamed of being born in Canaryville. It didn't bother him that he'd grown up in Bridgeport. He was OK with the fact that he'd flunked his way through high school so badly – because he stopped trying and stopped caring while still in his freshman year – that his only real option after Senior Year was the Army. He mind that he was one of those guys. He didn't feel the need to talk about honor and valor. He'd had a job and he'd done it. And he'd done it again for another tour until he couldn't do it anymore. And for best or worse he'd made his way through it and tried to figure out how to cope with it. And didn't have qualms about having managed to clean up his life enough that the only option that still made any sense was the police – and the academic exemption he got with his military service. He didn't care that he knew he sometimes went off the handle on his own. That he likely would be accused of police brutality. But he couldn't be accused of not caring.
So if that meant that he was just another cracker from Chicago's white ghetto – the Back of the Yards – than that's fine. He could deal with that label. Even if he was more. And he could be more and still like his beer too. Even if he'd developed a taste for some Johnny Walker.
And he was liking his beer that afternoon. But there was that realization to it too that it probably wasn't Erin who'd stocked the fridge in the basement. Had bought a case. It'd been Voight.
Voight – who Jay was pretty sure had previously only bothered to buy a case to have in the fridge when his oldest son was going to be home for a few days. But that day – and no days in the future – it hadn't been purchased because Justin was gracing them with his appearance. It'd been because they – him and Erin - were going to be over that afternoon. That he was going to be there that afternoon. And because having a beer with some smoked ribs – having a beer while sitting in the sunshine was a pretty good excuse to put one back. But Jay didn't think there'd been booze in the house purchased for him before. And he knew too there was some sort of unspoken commentary in that.
Maybe he needed to have another beer. Because he likely needed the beer to mellow a tiny bit more.
If not for what he was slowly and quietly processing then for supervising Eth putting together the Jedi Starfighter Lego set. If he'd had to help Eth put together the two little free builds at the Lego store, he'd pretty much single-handedly almost had to take over putting together the Yoda ship he'd picked out while they sat out there on the deck.
Eth had tried to help a bit. But his hands and fingers were just hopping. And it was pretty clear that his eyes weren't working quite right that day. And even though Eth hadn't really said much to acknowledge it was happening – or just how much it was bothering him or just how bad his symptoms were beyond the obvious tremor – you could see the frustrated glaze in the eyes. And Jay knew Hank and Erin saw it too. He'd heard both of them drop "sweetheart" at Eth that afternoon, squeezing his shoulder, caressing his cheek, checking his forehead and gripping at his bouncing hand. The only other times he'd heard that pet name roll off their tongues had been when Eth was in the hospital – and it'd bee scary. More scary in that Erin had disclosed that it was the phrasing that Camille had used when dealing with all her kids. And there was some underlying message in that too. And maybe a bigger statement about just how much they were all quietly worrying about Eth that day – or week, or month. Though, maybe it wouldn't be so quietly when Eth was out of ear shot. Maybe it hadn't been so quietly if Erin had already talked to Hank and been assured that he was calling the kid's neuro on Monday and trying to get him in ASAP.
But Eth wasn't letting on he was thinking about or concerned about any of that in that moment. He seemed more urgently interested in getting the model together. And in another telling give-away in just how he was feeling, getting it together was more important that who exactly was putting it together. When usually even with his tremor and him needing some help with the smaller and fidgety pieces, he still was militant about wanting to do it himself. That it was his set and his model and his build. Not that day. But Jay still tried to respect his usual protests – even if Eth wasn't presenting them that afternoon – and picked away at helping him get each piece where it belonged rather than just doing it outright for him. Going real slow and steady.
And, again even with them sitting out at that patio table, Voight had basically just given them space.
That was the other almost weird thing about spending any time at Erin's family's place. It was like they could manage to be together while also just giving each other the space to do their own thing. Family time without being in each other's faces.
Their definition of spending time together was just so different than what Jay had grown up with too. Not that his family had really spent time together. If anything they spent time ignoring each other. Actively ignoring each other and avoiding each other. Retreating to their separate spaces in the house. Or just not coming home. But that wasn't the Voights.
Erin said that it was the whole rules about how much time was allowed upstairs and in the bedrooms and no closed doors thing. And it probably was. To a point.
If you weren't allowed to be in your bedroom, there wasn't exactly many other options in Voight's place besides the front room. Jay could see how everyone just got used to being in each other's presence but letting each other do their own thing. But there was reason behind it. He could tell. Because it'd also just fucking positioned you to interact with each other. To talk to each other. To acknowledge each other. To get off your ass and help each other. To be aware of the other people in the house – even if you were burying yourself in something else at that particular moment. He supposed it sort of exposed you to the other people's interests and likes too. And maybe forced you to participate in them - or at least acknowledge them - in some way too. To become more tolerant of them. Accepting. And that was something he'd come to like and appreciate too.
That you could be together but alone. But it didn't really feel like alone but together. There was a family in that house. That worked even for all the ways it just didn't fucking work.
Voight was just coming over and sitting at the table now and then that afternoon. Would work on his own drink. Would gaze at them working on the Lego. Or gaze at Ethan's shaking hands and unstoppable piano-playing fingers. And then shift his attention to just watching the smoke and heat radiating off his barbecue.
Erin had been puttering in the kitchen for a bit – he assumed trying to figure out how to make icing based on the noise – but then had come out along with Bear. Apparently Erin – and the possibility of spilled food – had won out for a bit, which was a rarity when it came to that dog and Eth.
He'd followed right after her, though, as she'd just curled right up in the porch swing. That had gotten a bit of a forlorn look from the dog. Clearly he'd expected a bit more out of her. But she didn't seem to notice or care. Her nose was in the book Voight had handed her again. And the dog eventually settled himself beside Eth instead – gazing at the fumbled Lego pieces like they might constitute some kind of edible treat.
And once again the lot of them were together but doing their own thing. But it was nice. Jay liked it. A lot.
AUTHOR NOTE: Please check back later tonight or tomorrow (i.e. before the 24 hour mark), as I think I will likely complete this extended scene tonight or tomorrow morning and will post it.
Your reviews, comments and feedback are appreciated.