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 — MINDFULNESS.
***THE TWO CHAPTERS IMMEDIATELY BEFORE THIS — ALONE TOGETHER AND MINDFULNESS — WERE ADDED LAST NIGHT. THERE WASN'T A DOUBLE BUMP. PLEASE GO BACK AND MAKE SURE YOU DIDN'T MISS IT***
Jay could tell Voight liked it too. The together time. The family time. That the guy just … thrived on the quiet times where people filled that house. Or his life.
Jay had been working on trying to lie to himself in convincing himself that this really was just a dry run for summer barbecue season. That they'd gotten some decent spring weather and that Voight had likely been jonesing all winter to get back in front of his grill. Jay knew he'd been waiting pretty much for the day they put a down payment on the townhouse to get a barbecue and start taking their rooftop terrace patio balcony thing for a spin.
Though, admittedly turning that desire and anticipation into Erin's birthday present the week before had been a bit of a bust. He likely should've known better. But he just thought she'd been waiting for it as much as him. They'd been talking about it a lot. More since spring and summer gear started going up for sale. The little space on their rooftop and the concept of getting to flake out up there in summer nights and breezes had pretty much been a major selling point to that townhouse. And then they'd been talking about having everyone back at their place after Eth's kickball and skills competition fundraiser. It seemed like a pretty decent time to get a barbecue.
And maybe it'd been a decent time to get a barbecue. But he definitely should've known to have something less … outdoor kitchen appliance-like … for her too. Though, he thought she'd pretty much gotten over it. And she was already liking having it too. Kind of like the flatscreen that she claimed she hadn't seen the need for in the house but sure spent a whole lot of time watching with him.
So maybe it'd been easy to try to pretend that this afternoon was just an excuse for Voight to use his barbecue. To just go back to Erin's repeated affirmations that when Voight's wife had still been alive that they'd been a lot more social. That they'd have other families and couples over. That they lived for summer and time on their deck and backyard barbecues. But who didn't in Chicago? Not matter how hot and muggy it got, you really couldn't beat a summer on the lake – even if it involved living in an urban center or in poverty or near poverty in it. Maybe that was the beauty of it. No matter your income level or background, you could still have that fantasized summer life, lake life of beaches and park space and trawling along the lakeshore on foot or on your bike when you grew up in the Windy City.
Maybe that was part of what had brought him back there. Even with the places he'd been. The other countries and cities he'd seen – in the States and abroad, there still was something to be said for Chicago. There was still a whole fucking lot to be said for it. And even with all the memories and baggage that existed there – it was home.
And, he could appreciate Voight's need to be home. To stay where he'd made a home. Where his parents had made him a home. Where he'd raised his kids. Where he'd been married and set up house with his wife. And where he still kept his grill going in their small backyard – just like Jay intended to have his barbecue going at the townhouse. Just like he knew that not having a backyard would suck a bit – but that the rooftop space made up for it a little and the way they only had to walk a couple hundred feet to have an entire park at their disposal. At any future kids' disposal. Where they could be sitting up high enough that they could almost pretend they could still smell the lake water and feel the breeze.
But that fantasy was about as unreal – presently – as his little story he was telling himself that this was just a spring barbecue. That maybe it was some sort of dry run for Eth's Confirmation or birthday or grad. Though, all of those Eth had maintained he definitely didn't want a party. But he still would likely would want barbecue. But, as the day went on he just became more and more clear that this wasn't just some sort of lax excuse for some smoked ribs. That it actually was about Jay. And that was strange in his own right.
Maybe stranger still – again – in knowing that Voight was in his element. That he looked at ease and happy too. As much as Voight ever did. But Jay knew it was likely was because people were getting along. They were all together and they were getting along. And that "just want everyone to get along" had been a mantra he'd heard out of Voight's mouth – or repeated by Erin – in the couple years he'd been kicking around. And Jay wasn't sure that had worked out too well until recently. Until there was someone missing. Another person missing. And that they'd all had enough time and space to at least start working through that as best they could. Maybe as best they were would or could be expected to.
But they were doing OK. Becaue they were getting along. There wasn't any big conflict or to-do about it. There wasn't any tension. Not that afternoon. And Jay knew that that had been a long time coming.
And even though they were on better terms now that Hank and Erin still had their moments. But whatever they'd worked through in therapy – as a family, which Erin really only told him so much about and anything he did get told usually just involved Eth – had gotten them back on a playing field that at least seemed to look sort of familiar to the one they'd been on before the shit had hit the fan when Justin had gotten himself killed.
Jay actually thought Bunny and the Jimmy thing had done a lot of … fixing Erin and Hank's relationship too. It'd forced them to have some pretty real and frank conversations. He'd again only been given glimpses of them – and Erin's side of what had been said and what she'd taken away from it. But it'd made them look each other in the eyes and say some shit and go over some topics that were likely sixteen-plus years in the making. Conversations that were probably more than long over due.
Too bad the same thing couldn't be said for what it'd done for Erin and Bunny's relationship. Because as much as that whole fucking scam had shattered Erin. Again. And as much as she'd said that was it for her relationship with Bunny. It wasn't. She was too forgiving of that woman. For reasons that Jay couldn't comprehend no matter how much he tried to force himself to.
It was fucking hard for him to understand how Erin could still let herself define Bunny as her mother. Even harder on afternoons like that when Voight was only taking breaks from being up on the deck with them to go back down in the yard with Bear at his heel and work at dumping all this newly purchased dirt into these clearly custom-made and maintained flower boxes that lined the one side of the fence. When the guy was working weeks in advance to get ready to plant flowers and a garden for a woman who wasn't even there anymore. But for the real woman who'd actually raised Erin.
But those weren't post-birthday conversations to have. On a good day. They were actually only conversations they had if he was prepared for it to end in a fight. To get the cold shoulder – for days. To get told off. Because she never much wanted to hear his perspective on Bunny. He got the sense that his option was hated at an even harsher level than Voight's.
Eventually Olive and Henry had arrived. They'd come in the back gate and Henry was already going a million miles an hour to Grandpa. And again that different – softer – side came out of Voight. That working on the gardening and watching the grill got set aside and he shifted right into getting the sandbox lid pulled off and the plastic bin with all the sand toys out of the shed for the kid. Though, Henry was more interested in the lid that had been turned into a busy board for the toddler. Another custom-made project when the sandbox was already a custom-made project.
And that was just the thing with Voight. The guy couldn't sit still. He didn't seem to like sitting still. Idle hands. He preached that too.
He always had fucking little projects and chores and errands on the go. And if he didn't – then it meant he was doing the job. Working a case. Working his contacts. Working all of them.
But at home – it was different. It was a switch. Home, he was home. And him and Eth were always up to something on their days together.
Busy board sandbox lid had been one of those somethings. All these little fasteners and bits of hardware collected and screwed onto this piece of board was just the latest … thing .. they'd done together. Just this other little thing that someone managed to put Voight up on that pedestal with his own kid and with his grandkid. But another way that just showed that the things the guy did – projects, chores, errands – they were all just family focused. Everything came back to family. That was Voight's pedestal. And maybe it was what gave him the right to have Henry and Eth putting him up on some kind of pedestal.
And Jay … as much as he didn't want to emulate Voight … he wanted to learn to emulate that. Family first. Family always. He thought he could. He knew he could.
Henry was lost in the board instantly. Who fucking knew latches and hooks and chains and old hinges and light switches that did nothing but flick and padlocks and little pieces of knotted rope could be so absorbing. But apparently they were when you were almost two. And apparently Voight – who'd raised three kids – knew that too.
It'd freed up Olive and she always seemed appreciative to get even a couple minutes without a toddler directly under her foot. Like sometimes overly appreciative. Like she still felt that she had a lot to make up for. And maybe she did. And maybe she didn't. Been a process there too for Jay. Separating her – and Henry – from Justin. And just accepting that they'd been through a pretty devastating loss and loss made you do fucked up things. Sometimes it made you run hard and far. He'd been there. So he could understand. And even if he wasn't entirely ready to forgive and forget with his own family – at least Erin's family was showing him that to have that functional dysfunctionality, sometimes you just needed to let water be under the bridge. To move fucking on and work with what was there now. So they were. On her side of the whole family dynamic thing.
Olive had brought her meal offerings into the house and talked at him and Erin for a bit. Eth decided they were fucking boring and had wobbled down to join his dad and nephew. A clear ploy by Hank because not long after Eth had settled into the sandbox and attracted Henry's attention, he'd bailed out on playing in that dirt to switch back to his own.
And that had just been the way it'd been until dinner. Just a casual movement of people. Their fucking … mish-mashed … family? … putting in the time. Moving from chores that didn't much feel like chores to people to just spending time together. Until the food was ready to go on the table and they'd moved inside and sat down to a feast. Until Jay had stuffed himself and had truly felt sated in a way he liked even if he didn't completely understand.
"Time for presents?" Ethan had asked, as Jay slouched back in his chair, gripping Erin's hand.
The chair he felt a little silly sitting in since it had a fucking helium police car tied to it and a happy birthday balloon. But that had pretty much made him the favorite person for Henry to be crawling around on when he'd decided he'd had enough of his "dino bones" that his Grandpa kept encouraging him to pack away.
The kid had done a decent job. He'd put away two and shoved a couple of his mom's devilled eggs in his mouth – and up his nose – too. As well as gnawed on a pickle and cucumbers. But if it hadn't been for confining him to the high chair - that he really hated to be confined in anymore – the kid wouldn't have likely eaten at all. Because he definitely wanted to be on Jay's lap. Not to sit with him. To stand on top of him and grab at the ribbons on the balloons yanking them down until they were bopping into his and Erin's head – or Henry's own face.
But Jay also sort of liked having the seat. He wasn't sure he'd ever gotten helium balloons on his birthday before. Seemed kind of fucking absurd to bother to start getting them as a grown man. But at the same time he knew two things: 1) Erin had started taking balloons rather seriously since Nadia died. So it'd been her who'd got them and it meant something to her. It was important. And 2) It had become tradition. Quickly. And with Eth – the Voights – tradition, and being someone invited to take part in them, meant something.
Just like it had meant a whole fucking lot to him that Erin had tried to keep up his mom's tradition of chocolate cake from scratch for his birthday. Not that it'd tasted anything like his mom's. But his fiancée had made it. She'd tried and it'd turned out half-decently. Definitely edible. He'd liked it. And that was all that mattered. And
Erin making him chocolate cake layered with jam, iced with butter cream frosting and decorated with strawberries. He could take doing that for the rest of the birthdays he got to put down in the books. He'd like that to be a new tradition. It would be.
"I think I already got my presents," Jay said. Because he had. He really had.
But Ethan gestured at this fucking pile – literal pile – of gifts that had gotten moved off the table to the china cabinet hutch to make space for the food. Then the kid gazed at it and reached and picked a small package and handed it to him.
"That's from me and Dad," he said.
Jay gave the kid a thin smile and reached to accept it. "Thought the Lego set was from you and your dad."
And it was. Eth had been excited to get to urge him to pick a set. Jay had sort of resisted. To the point that Eth had gone and picked up the motorcycle kit he'd been staring at for a year of these Microfighter outings.
"This one," Ethan had said. Wasn't a question. It was a clear statement. It was what was going to be purchased. Undisputedly.
And at that point, Jay had only so much. Because he'd admit he'd developed some Lego envy over the past year. There were some fucking cool sets – and nothing like the sets they'd had when he was growing up. Not that they'd had a lot of Lego in the house as kids. Still, he'd picked out a kit that was within reason – which could be hard to do when it came to Lego prices – because Eth had been just as proud about spending some of his allowance money on it as a birthday gift. Though, he'd acknowledged that his dad had given him some cash to help with the purchase too.
It'd been a little weird to let Eth spend his allowance money on him. Or to accept that Voight had handed the kid a twenty to help out – if he picked something at the store or to pick up the tab for lunch. But there was something … he didn't know. He knew how Voight was with money. He knew how he was training Eth to be with money. And just how Eth was with his savings and how he spent his allowance. But he'd somehow … passed some sort of muster. He'd gotten onto the list of … acceptable expenses.
Ethan shrugged. "This is too," he provided.
Jay allowed a little sound and cast Erin a look but she just shrugged. Reality was that between the food and the beer and the Lego – Voight had already spent more than a decent amount on him. More than he would've expected Voight to drop on him. Really more than he would've expected his own parents to drop on him back in the day. But not opening it or putting up more protest would be … offensive. And as much as he didn't mind occasionally butting heads with Voight, he also didn't see why this should be one of the things they got into it about.
So he just opened the package and gazed at the Fisher Space Pen box he held in his hand.
He just stared. Because it'd been something he'd looked at when they were down in the gift shops at the Space Center in Florida. It'd been a purchase he'd considered making then. It'd been a purchase he'd sort of always wanted to make but never really had found reason to justify dropping that kind of dough on a pen. It wasn't like it was the kind of pen that cost your left nut. But still, with the kind of job he had, even though he took care of his things, he didn't really want to risk losing a forty-dollar pen. So he'd found more reasons and excuses to never buy one more than he'd found to get one. No matter how much he thought he might like one. No matter how little boy cool and man and job practical it might be.
He glanced at Erin. But she shook her head. She hadn't said anything to Voight.
Maybe Ethan had? Because he'd been by his side when he was looking at them at the KSC. And even if it had been Ethan who'd told Voight – it'd been this little brain-damaged thirteen-year-old kid who'd remembered.
"It's like astronauts use," Ethan provided – maybe confirming that.
"From the Space Center?" Jay arced his eyebrow at him.
Eth sputtered a bit. "Well, no. It's not like a Space Center one. It's here. But it's still lit, right? It's basically the same. Can write in Zero-G. Like even upside down."
Hank just gave a smack at that. "Ink don't freeze in the cold," he said. "So maybe you can cut it out with the penciled in chicken scratch you hand me."
Jay made a small face at the jab. But also accepted it was what it was. It was Voight.
"You like it?" Eth asked eagerly.
"Yea, I've been wanting one of these," he allowed and flipped open the box to look at it. "Than—" But he stopped and stared at it again. Maybe too abruptly because Erin leaned forward to look at it too and cast Voight a look. He'd gotten it engraved. His name monographed there. He looked up at the guy. Not sure what to say.
"Man should have a good pen," Voight allowed. "Especially on this job."
"Thank you," Jay managed and looked back down at it. Still not really sure what to say. How to act. As much as he thought he was getting Voight figured out. This family thing figured out. How to act. How to function. How to be normal within its structure. Sometimes he just knew he didn't have a fucking clue. At all.
Olive must've sensed it too. Maybe she understood the awkward just as much. Or more. Because she leaned over and retrieved a gift and called Henry over from where he was busy petting Bear with his icing fingers.
Bear didn't seem too upset by that. He was trying to lick the stuff on the kid's hands and face. And when Henry did manage to succeed in petting him – the dog was only using that as an excuse to let his tongue hang out of his mouth in an attempt to get the residual sticky sweetness off his coat.
"Henry, you want to give Jay his birthday present?" she wagged the gift at him.
"Bif-day," the toddler agreed and sort of listened to his mom. Or at least he moved to grab at the present. Though, that seemed to be to start ripping the paper off himself.
"Henry," Olive sighed at him and tried to stop his grabs at the ripped up paper.
"H!" Ethan said the most firmly he'd managed all day, "it's Jay's birthday! Not yours!"
Olive managed to wrangle the gift out of Henry's hands and hand it to Jay. "Sorry," she muttered and draw the little boy closer to her as he wailed some protest about having been chastised and having the present ripped out of his hands.
"It's OK," Jay said and gave a playful frown at the boy. He settled the gift into his lap and reached for the kid – Olive handing him over. "Let's stop it with the crying," he said as he drew the toddler to him, Erin already reaching to swipe away his tears and start to calm his sputtering. "You can help me open it."
He put what was left of the unwrapped package on the table and tapped at it, adjusting Henry on his lap and placing his hands there so they could peel away the last of the paper together.
"Ball!" Henry had shrieked and grabbed at the box even more as the paper came off.
Jay only allowed a small amused sound and worked at peeling the rest of the wrapping off as Henry worked to pull the packaging more firmly away from him – clearly claiming the item for himself. It was a kick-ball set – MLB branded – and complete with the bases.
"What is it?" Eth leaned across the table.
"Henry likes so much when you take him to the park to play with your soccer ball when he visits," Olive allowed to Jay shyly.
Erin smiled at that offering and turned in her chair to gaze off into the front room where Henry had run after being set down – taking the whole box with him. Flopping it on the couch and gazing at it, only to pick it up and run back into the dining room with it to show to them again.
"Ball!" he told them.
"Can I see it Henry?" Erin asked and took the set from him, only to get shrieked at a bit more. She only read it for a moment, before giving it back to him. They were definitely trying to avoid pre-bedtime meltdowns. It was more than pushing Henry's witching hour. Probably Eth's too. "This will be fun," she told the kid as she gave it back. "Just like soccer baseball last weekend, bud."
Henry didn't care. He was off into the front room again – this time with Bear following after him to see what the fuss was about. Eth stood at his chair too but Hank tugged him back into place a bit.
"I can't see what it is," he grumbled. "It had Major League on it?"
"It's a kick-ball set. Soccer baseball," Jay told him and tossed the wadded up paper across the table at him. He was clearly still out of it – or really not seeing – because he missed it. Jay doubt he even saw it. It bounced right off his chest and onto the table. "Have to get everyone together for another game."
Eth just gave him a dirty look at the wrapping hitting him. Jay just looked back to Olive, though. "Thanks," he allowed and then leaned over the back of his chair to look at the kid. "Thank you, Henry."
The boy gave him a glance and then came running full bore back. "Ball! Bif-day! Tay!" he said but held the box up at Erin.
"Excellent gift picking, Henry," she allowed.
"Tant Tarin! Up!" he demanded. "Up! Tarin! Up!"
She gave her head a little shake but reached and pulled him into her lap, letting him settle the box back onto the table and smack at the rubber ball sticking out the front of it.
Olive gave a thin smile at the scene and handed Jay a card. He opened it and stopped again for a moment, causing Erin to lean in again. It was an uncle card. Not just an uncle card. An uncle card that was a super hero card. An uncle card proclaiming him as a super hero. And one of the galaxy's best.
It was the sort of card Jay knew that a year ago there was no way in hell he would've gotten. The sort of card that he knew with some confidence that if Justin was still there he wouldn't be sitting there opening. But here Olive was giving it to him.
He opened it and gazed at the signed greeting that Olive had done. The jagged crayon scrawl of a zigzag line that Henry had scribbled across it as a signature. And he again wasn't entirely sure what to say. And was so distracted by the words "uncle" that he hadn't even really noticed that there was a gift certificate in it.
"Erin told me you like sushi," Olive offered even more nervously.
"Gross," Ethan muttered, leaning more against his dad. Kid was clearly fading – more than he had been all day. Should get this wrapped soon. Let Olive and Hank get their kids to bed. Though, should likely help clean up a bit first.
Olive looked concerned at Ethan's assertion and gave him a glance before staring back at Jay's distracted reading of the card. "Sometimes?" she tried.
Jay started a bit. His eyes raising to her with some questioning. Only to look back down at the gift cards.
"Oh, yeah," he managed. "Yea. Really only get it a couple times a year. This will be a nice treat. Thanks."
She allowed a little nod. "I know it's not much. But I just … I really wanted you and Erin to both know," she stumbled a little unsurely again, moving between his and Erin's eyes, "that I really appreciate everything you've both done for me, and Henry, since this winter and spring."
Erin just shrugged. "Olive, it's fine," she said. "We're glad you're both back in the city."
Olive nodded and looked down to her hands again for a moment and then looked up at them again. "I also wanted to let you know that …," she glanced over to Hank and Eth, her eyes setting on the kid's tired body language, "… that the … paperwork … I'd been waiting on, it came through yesterday. So … I'm … I'm ready for all of us to sit down and talk about what makes the most sense."
Jay gave Erin a glance and reached to squeeze at her knee while her hands were occupied with trying to grip her squirming nephew. Erin just gave Olive and thin smile – relief but some sadness to it. She nodded, though, too. "Okay," she allowed. "We'll figure out a night. Figure it out."
Olive gave her own sad smile and looked down at her clutched hands in the lap. Jay wasn't sure exactly how much money was coming to her or if it'd really make much of a difference in figuring anything out. But at least it was a step in the right direction. Though, he also knew that him and Erin wouldn't be booting her out on her ass either if she wanted to stay in the condo. They'd just have to figure something out. They would.
Erin held out Henry to Olive. "I think you need to give Mommy a hug, bud," she said.
It earned another thin smile and Olive took her son, giving him a little bounce and a kiss. He gazed at her, measuring where facial expression and seemed to at least sense she needed a kiss too and returned a messy one on her cheek. It earned a more real smile out of Olive. And left a mark of chocolate cake crumbs on her cheek too.
Erin put her elbows on the table and gestured at the biggest box on the cabinet. "Can you pass that?" she put to Hank.
He grunted and lifted it – and then his ass.
"I thought the shoes were my birthday present?" Jay put to her.
"No," she said. "That was a gift to myself. Getting you to stop being Scrooge McDuck and finally getting them so I could stop hearing about them."
He gave her a slightly annoyed look but only got to keep her eyes – which clearly said she was sassing at him to get a reaction – so long because Voight grunted at him again and handed the parcel across the table. He took it but cast Erin a firmer look. It was heavy.
"You are going to make me feel like shit about getting you a barbecue, aren't you?" he said.
She gave him a little shrug but reached and gave his cheek a small, teasing pat. "I love my barbecue. It means I don't have to do any cooking at least until the snow flies."
He gave her a look. "I'm pretty sure you know how to barbecue."
"I thought the gift came with a personal chef?" she put back to him.
He made a noise and shook his head. But he just reached and pulled the card off the top of the box. But Erin reached and slid it out of his fingers. "After," she put simply.
He raised and eyebrow at her. But she just shrugged so he worked at peeling the paper off the box. His eyes got big and he cast her a look.
"What? Babe, no way," he exclaimed.
She gave him another little smile and a little shrug. "Think that will work on your Man-io."
He made a noise and shook his head. "I did not call it that," he said but kept working at tearing away the rest of the paper on the bluetooth, outdoor worksite speaker system. Real fucking heavy duty and waterproof. Hundred percent perfect for their rooftop. For the summer nights he hoped to be spending up there with her in the breeze and with some tunes and unwinding and talking or not talking. And maybe her picking that to compliment his barbecue mishap showed that she was looking forward to those summer nights – and their time and family time – up there just as much as he was. Maybe it wasn't such a mishap at all. Just another little blip in getting where they wanted to be.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure that word has been used more than once," she teased.
He cast her annoyed look but leaned in to give her a real brief kiss. She smiled at him while he did it. He kept her eyes. "It's perfect, Erin."
She allowed him a little nod. "Good," she said with a bigger smile – one that he knew they'd be following up on later, it said that much - and she tapped him in the chest with the card. "That's for you too."
He sighed but took the card, gazing at the box of his new speaker. He kind of really just wanted to work at unboxing it. Getting it connected to his phone. Seeing what it's sound was like. Seeing what its range was like. If it'd be able to communicate with the rest of their stereo equipment in the house. But he thought he'd be OK just dealing with the playlists they had on their phones when up there.
He ran his hands over it – pulling himself away from the anticipation of playing with the new toy for a moment. He folded open the envelope and read the card. It was an obnoxious one – not mushy – taking yet another jab at him for being older than her. He just arched his eyebrow at her.
But that eyebrow was joined by the other one as he opened the card and two tickets slide out. He gazed at them, his eyes getting bigger.
"You hate soccer," he told her. It was the best he could come up with.
"I like you," she said. "And spending time with you."
Eth perked up a bit again and leaned forward. "What is it?" he asked.
Jay held up the two tickets for Voight and Eth to see. "To the MLS All-Stars exhibition game against Real Madrid," he provided. "Soccer."
"With field-side viewing of their practice and warm-up," Erin said.
His eyes darted to her. "Seriously?" he managed that time and shook his head. "You didn't have to."
She shrugged. "I know," she allowed. "I wanted to."
He gave her a thin smile and leaned forward to give her another brief kiss. It was hard to do that in front of Voight – Hank – but it was getting less … awkward. Maybe slightly more normal. Sometimes. Times like this.
"Thank you," he told her sincerely.
She only smiled a little. "I love you," she allowed at a whisper – as much privacy as they could manage in that moment. And he smiled a little too.
But Voight broke up their display of affection. "Last one," he said and dropped a gift bag into the middle of the table.
Jay and Erin turned to look at it.
"Nice wrapping, Hank," Erin said.
He just grunted and gestured for him to take. "It's for both of you."
Erin raised her eyebrow at that. But Jay reached to take it. He handed it over to Erin but she shook her head.
"Already had my birthday," she said. Voight gave a little smack at that.
Jay looked over to him and then back at Erin and dangled the bag in front of her again. She sighed out some annoyance but took it. She'd barely taken it before the handle she hadn't grabbed had fallen open enough to reveal what was inside. She let out an amused sound and pulled out a vinyl album of U2's Joshua Tree, handing it to Jay and giving Hank a smile across the table.
"Heard you talking about it last weekend," Voight provided.
Erin shook her head. "I was sure you had that album but it wasn't in with the records you gave us."
The guy just grunted again. "Was in a separate box," he said. "Some of Camille's stuff. Book was in there too."
Erin gave a little nod and another thin, sad smile at that. Jay glanced up – clocking the look between the two of them.
"My mom really liked this album, U2, too," he allowed. Like the Chicago Irish girl she was. "A lot. Had it kicking around the house growing up. Don't know where it is now."
"Mmm …," Voight grunted. "Heard that getting said."
Erin made a little noise. "We were just talking," she provided. "It's the thirtieth anniversary of the album. But, Hank, we'll find a copy in a record shop or flea market. You should keep this."
He just made a noise and another gesture at it. "Take it for a few spins," he said. "Should get reacquainted with it."
And at that, he lifted his ass and shoved his hand into his back pocket and then leaned across the table to hand another Ticketmaster packet to Erin. She gave him a funny look but opened it and gaped a bit – before handing it off to Jay for him to gaze at the tickets to the hand-to-find, quick-to-sell-out U2 tickets at their Soldier's Field performance of the entire Joshua Tree album. Their anniversary tour.
Apparently neither him nor Erin knew exactly what to say because they both just stared at him. And he didn't seem to care.
"Think both your moms would like you checking out the show," he said.
And maybe that's all that needed to be said.
Because maybe that was family – and legacy and memories and traditions – old and new. And it was all that needed to be said. And all that really mattered. And maybe there wasn't much reason to get too awkward about that.
AUTHOR NOTE:
The two chapters (Alone Together and Mindfulness) immediately before this were added last night. It didn't get a second bump and maybe a second alert didn't go out. The numbers on Alone Together are really low, so you might want to check you didn't miss it.
That's the end of epic spew of Jay POV on his birthday dinner. It got out of hand. But hopefully some of you enjoyed it.
I have an idea for a chapter that involves Jay and Erin having (or being invited over) the Corsons over to dinner. (Not his ex — just the parents). I may or may not play with that.
I also have an idea for an Erin/Upton scene that involves Ethan and Platt.
And then I have the ideas present previously.
Still playing with potential ideas for a Father's Day scene to explore where they would be at this year in that. But considering I haven't entirely played out where this Etc arc is going nor figured out exactly what to do with the Erin situation in terms of this AU vs. the series I'm not sure I'll do it. As it seems like it would be pretty melancholy.
Had planned to do a Jay/Erin/Will chapter immediately following the birthday dinner chapter(s) here. But not sure now. Might do a Hank/Ethan one instead.
Still unsure how I'm going to play this AU.
Reviews, comments and feedback on the chapters/scenes is much appreciated. Thoughts and commentary outside of that I'm better able to consider and respond to if you DM me.