Chapter 1: Entrance
Chapter Text
"Ugh, really??"
Jake huffed in annoyance as he gave twenty to Amy, who smiled smugly. "Up your game, Jake." She teased. "That wasn't even fair! You were cheating!" He pouts, sounding like a little kid.
"How do you cheat at bets?" Amy asked. "I bet twenty that Terry would get the boring case today, and I won the bet." Jake scoffed. "You probably planned it." He huffs.
Amy walks off back to her desk, opening up one of her files to get to work again, an amused grin still planted on her face. Jake walks off to his own desk, sitting down.
He rubs his eyes, reading over the same notes and the same information. Over. And over. And over again. He's working on a case about a serial killer on the loose in Brooklyn. See, the serial killer was in Manhattan previously, and from ten other states, so Jake just found it annoying how much he kept moving here and there.
The same information. 6'3. Male. Muscular. Always armed with a gun. Black clothes. Mask. 6'3. Muscular. Always armed with a gun. Black clothes. Mask.
He's looked over all places where victims have been found. Alleyways. Two instances. Houses. Three instances. Abandoned areas. Caves! This man is insane. And he's killed men, women, kids, babies...whatever this dude has against the world, he needs to be stopped cause what the fuck.
Jake glanced up at Holt through his window and a smile formed on his face. "Captaaainnn..." He whispered to himself, getting up as he walked over to the office.
He gives a knock in a weird rhythm and almost immediately, Holt can tell it's Jake. Funky Cold Medina...
"Come in." Holt's gruff voice called out, as he put his pen down and looked up at Jake, who walked in and shut the door behind him.
Jake walked over and sat down in front of him. "Captain. I was gonna ask you something." He started. "Is it about the case you are working on?" Holt questioned. "No, actually. I was gonna ask if you wanted to work it with me." Jake corrects.
Holt pondered the possibilities. He wanted to decline at first, but the thrill of catching a serial killer...he had to admit it was something he wanted to do. Put someone away, someone who deserves it, who deserves nothing but prison for life...
"What do you have so far?" Holt asked, and Jake lights up. "Uh, well, I've narrowed his location down to nearby restaurants. He's probably got a stakeout, not a house or an apartment, somewhere that, one, he won't be found in, two, nobody will even look in, and three, he can move from if we find out his location." Jake said. "I was thinking near Jim's pizza place 'cause of the sewers, and ventilation system. I know I remember hearing how they kept having missing pizza or something. What if it was the serial killer who snuck around and got the food?!" Jake exclaimed. Holt simply stared.
"It's a possibility. A very...odd one, but yes." Holt nods. "Did you get the sewer idea from Ninja turtles?" "Yeah." "I figured."
"There's been more reports of people seeing someone running through alleys and disappearing seconds later. I want to go out undercover and see if we can figure out if he's really hiding out through alleys and somewhere in sewers." Jake suggests, leaning forward. The excitement and thrill running through his veins and his blood, almost enough to make him run out right now to catch the dude.
"Have you got a properly formulated plan?" Holt asked. "Nah." Jake said.
Jake hummed to a Taylor Swift song on the radio as he drove home through the darkening sky and the traffic jam of New York.
As he parks to get food from a nearby restaurant, a quick pick up delivery, the corner of his eyes notice something. Alleyway.
He sees it, a man. Jake grabs his badge and his cuffs. Thank God he hadn't changed out of his uniform yet. He ran into the alley, gun pointed up. "NYPD, hands up." He called, looking around for the now missing man. He looked a little more around. Where the fuck did he go?
Jake cussed to himself and walked out of the dirty, disgusting alley, putting his badge and gun away and walking into the restaurant.
He paused, wondering. The person was hiding the alley of a restaurant. His assumption was right. He could be stealing food.
Jake walks over to the counter, pushing past the line and ignoring the exclaims and complaints. "Sorry sir, you're gonna have to wait—" "NYPD." Jake held up his badge as the cashier looked at it. "Are you missing any food?"
The cashier looked up at him, almost judging but turned. "Mike!" The girl called and someone turned. "We missing food in the back? Cop wants to know." She said. "Yeah. We've been missing food for the past week. Filed a complaint but they can't find who it is." Mike nods. Jake huffs. The killer's hiding out in Brooklyn. Stealing food and killing.
Jake can't help but think there's a lot more to it. He's gotta be doing it for someone, or something. Maybe a gang? The Mafia? A cartel? He doesn't know. But no one would willingly hide out in the dirty streets of Brooklyn, killing left and right and stealing food from random restaurants just because. He's gotta be getting money from someone. Or something like that.
"Sir?" Jake looked up when the cashier called for his attention. "So are you gonna want anything?" "Oh yeah. Jake Peralta. Here to pick up an order."
Jake, annoyed and frustrated that he can't find any actual traces of the dude, puts the files in his hands down. He's supposed to go scouting for the dude with Holt tomorrow.
He only has assumptions of where the dude might be. But not actual piece of evidence which show where he's hiding out. It's not like he has any alibis or family, and clearly no house. There's not much of a way to track the dude and it's pissing him off.
He jumps when he hears glass shatter, standing up and running to the kitchen, gun in hand. He peers through.
...a cat.
He doesn't own a cat. He's broke as shit, how could he own a cat?
Jake sighed. He probably left the door open. He, carefully, walked over and grabbed the cat, which surprisingly didn't put up much of a fight. "You're so cute," He snuggled, petting the cat in his arms. "Come on, let's get you outside, okay?" He hums, walking to his front door. How did he not hear it come in?
He lets it out, shutting and locking his door. When he returns to the living room, the file he was previously looking at of the killer was gone, off the table. Disappeared out of thin air.
Jake, confused, looks around for it. The cat couldn't have stolen it. He thinks, at least. Unless it's freakishly well trained.
But no one else was in his house. Right? He doesn't think so. And sure doesn't hope so.
He should call Holt, right? Hopefully he doesn't get yelled at for an hour straight.
He walks over and grabs his phone, finding Holt's number in his contacts. "Captain!" He said, not allowing Holt to speak and immediately speaking into the phone himself. "I brought the case home to read it over and find more out. Don't get mad." He said, pausing. "I lost the files."
"What?" Holt exclaims on the other line. "How the hell did you lose the file?" He adds. "I don't know!" Jake said. "I heard glass shatter, and I went to check it out and it was a cat. I don't own one. I went to take it out and came back, the files were gone!" He adds, looking around still, with no luck of where the files might've gone.
"Maybe you got robbed." Holt suggests. "Oh come on, Captain. The door was locked." Jake paused. "... actually, when I came back home, the door was unlocked." He hums.
"...what if the killer was in my house? And planted a cat as a distraction to get the files because he knows we were working on it?!" Jake exclaims. "That's a very possible outcome. We'll have to figure out where the cat came from. What did it look like?" Holt asked. "Uh, black cat with a white snout and white paws." Jake answered.
"Okay. Maybe if we see it again tomorrow, we can follow where it goes. There's a chance it could lead us to who we are trying to capture." Holt said. Jake nods, even though Holt clearly couldn't see it, sighing.
"Okay. What do I do about the files now? Just, sleep it off?" "Yes." "Okay..."
"Bye captain." Jake hangs up the phone, walking to his room and sighing as he slips into bed, a weird sense of uneasiness running through him. He's starting to hate this case.
Jake groans, slapping his alarm clock as it falls off the night stand and annoyingly rings. He didn't want to get up.
He tried sitting up.
...
Jake opened his eyes, looking around him. He felt as if he couldn't move. But just seconds ago he threw his alarm clock off it's nightstand.
He tried moving his hand, only the tips of his fingers moving. What time was it?
He looks around, eyes blinking slowly as he tries to make sense of his surroundings. He's in his house. But he's practically paralyzed and unable to move.
SLEEP PARALYSIS
Jake looks around to try and find anything that could be terrifying to him. A ghost? A monster? A...cat?
He watches it crawl on the bed. He glanced down at his arm, where a nasty scratch was located. The cat. He grunted. But what was so special about it?
After a couple hours of struggling in his room and freaking out and finally being able to move, he sits up tiredly. Wasn't sleep paralysis. He knows that.
But he feels woozy and weird. He doesn't like it. Maybe he should go to the doctor's.
...
Well, Jake decided to ignore that thought of the doctor's as he walks into the precinct and puts his stuff down, rubbing his face tiredly. "Hey. You're late." Amy points out. "You okay?" She asked. "Yeah. I just...I had a really weird morning." He mumbled, leaning against his desk. He felt like he'd just woken up even though he's been awake for a couple hours already.
"What happened?" She questioned. "I woke up unable to move. And there was a cat. It left but I noticed I had a scratch on my arm." He said, lifting up his sleeve to show her the scratch. "I don't know if the cat has something in its claws, but I couldn't move at all until, like, hours later."
"I'm thinking whoever owns the cat like, laced the claws with something." He sighs. Amy shoots him a confused look.
"Oh. The serial killer case. Yesterday i wast at home and I hear a glass shatter. It was a cat in the kitchen. I left to take it out and the files I brought home were gone from the living room table." Jake said. "Me and Holt think someone might've snuck in, or was in my house before I even arrived. And used the cat as a distraction to get rid of the files."
"Was it the same cat?" Amy asked. "Yeah. Black with white paws and white snout." He nods. "But how would he know you? The killer, I mean." Amy questioned.
"I think it has to do with yesterday." He mumbles. "Oh no, Jake. What did you do?" She sighs, slumping in her chair as her eyebrows furrowed a little; expecting another one of his stupid shenanigans... "I didn't really do anything..." He defends. "But I think he was in the alley next to the restaurant I was getting my food in. And when I went into the restaurant, I asked if they had been missing any food. Because I had an assumption that the dude was living on the streets and fending for his life by robbing restaurants." He finished.
"Turns out they did have missing food. And I think, maybe, the dude found my name because I told them my name for my order." He said. Amy sighs. "Maybe the killer works in the restaurant." She suggests. "That's what I'm thinking." Jake nods back.
"Well, if the killer did lace the cats claws, there's a couple drugs it could've been. Thorazine being one of them." She suggests, leaning forward. Jake furrows his eyebrows a little. "What's Thorazine?"
"It's referred to as a chemical straitjacket. Used for the mentally ill sometimes. I don't know if they still use it. But since straitjackets are looked down on, they use Thorazine, I guess. And if the dude has a hold of Thorazine, he's probably not alone. It's a really hard drug to get your hands on." She explained.
"Yeah, I don't think he's alone either. I mean, who would want to spend nights on the streets of Brooklyn, stealing food and killing? He's gotta be getting money for doing it or something." He said, running a hand through his hair. "But we don't have solid evidence." Amy nods.
Jake and Holt are walking around Brooklyn, mainly looking at the cats that occasionally pass by. Jake has explained the whole situation to Holt and what he thought could be a lead.
Now here they were, looking for— "The cat!" Jake points at a black and white cat, the same as the previous one he saw.
As silly as it sounded to Holt, Jake did have a point. And it was Jake's case after all. Holt agreed to help. He can't believe he's chasing after a cat.
As the cat walked, they followed suit, quietly.
Minutes. To half an hour. And the cat walked through some back alleyways of buildings. Jake peered, seeing the suspect. That matched the exact description.
"Go the other side." Jake whispered to Holt, who nodded in response and snuck off.
As soon as Jake knew Holt was in position, off they went.
"NYPD, hands—"
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Click!
Click!
And off ran the man without a word.
Jake could've sworn that for a second, he saw his dead grandma or something.
Falling against the wall behind him, gun falling out of his hands as he groans, leg limp from the bullet that flew straight through his left thigh, and shirt bloody from the two gunshot wounds in his abdomen, bleeding and gushing out blood.
He did the mistake of lifting up his shirt, listening to it rip off of the injury, the blood gushing out a bit quicker and staining his torso and pants, dripping slowly onto the pavement.
His ears ring so terribly that he thinks for a second he went permanently deaf, but he could hear the voice of Holt calling out. Sounded far away, even though he was right next to him.
Jake groaned against Holt, hands shaking as he bled.
The bullets looked lodged in deep. No exit wound on the abdomen, but on the thigh, yeah. Weird and nausea inducing wounds on his abdomen. You could literally see inside, if you got rid of the blood, and it made him almost vomit. But he just spit out some saliva pooling in his mouth.
Chapter 2: Burn the rain
Notes:
Names from a Nirvana song burn the rain I love it
Anyway here's chapter 2 guys
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Jake sputtered out strings of words even he couldn't exactly understand, holding onto the little bit of consciousness he had left while Holt held him close for once in his life. In a hug Jake couldn't feel over the pain. The pain that was starting to numb. The dizziness was running through his slowing mind.
Holt had already called for police. He wasn't sure what to do with Jake in his arms and he uses as hell wouldn't know what to do if Jake just...
"Amy," Jake cried out with a low groan. "What?" Holt questioned, trying to understand the mumbles of words coming out of his mouth. "Amy." Jake repeats desperately, reaching for Holt's phone. "I'll call her." Holt said.
As he scrolls for Amy's number, he notices how shaky his hands were. And that his phone was starting to redden with Jake's blood that didn't seem to stop as much as Holt tried to stop it. He put the ringing phone in Jake's hand and helped him hold it up to his ear. "Do not say goodbye." Holt orders, as the phone picks up.
"Captain?" Amy said into the phone, worry in her tone because it's starting to get dark and why would he be calling? "Ames, it's me." Jake mumbles into the phone. "What?" Amy said, trying to understand what was being said on their line. Jake's hushed voice was hard to understand. He passed the phone to Holt. "Tell her." Jake said. Holt hesitates a little bit takes the phone out of his shaky hand.
"Santiago." Holt said. "Hi, Captain. Why are you calling? It's eleven PM." Amy asked. "Jake's been shot." Holt bluntly spits out, pressing down on Jake's wounds as he groans.
"What?" Amy said, voice rising in worry. "What do you mean? Where are you guys?" She asked. "We're in an alley. The killer shot him. Twice in the abdomen, once in the thigh." Holt said. "He wants to speak with you. But his words are not clear." He adds, putting the phone back in Jake's hand.
"Ames." He said. "Jake! Jake, what— What happened?" She asked, heart beating out of her chest as she started to get into her car. "I— We— We were chasing— the— the dude. We found him and he— he shot me." He stuttered, coughing as he repeated his phrases. Holt positioned him a bit more straighter as blood fell from his dry mouth.
"Oh my god. Okay. Okay. Do you know where you are?" She asked. "No, Ames, please." He paused. "Don't — I don't want you— I don't want you to get hurt, or —" "Jake, tell me where you are."
Jake sighs, a wave of drowsiness hitting him. "By..." He paused. "By the park." He mumbles. "Park with the lake. Hotel alleys." He huffs out. "Okay. Please don't go to sleep. I'll be there, okay? I'm gonna call the others. Whoever I can reach." She said. "Yeah— o-okay." He murmurs. "Is the ambulance on the way?" She asked.
The phone, by the time Amy asked, has dropped out of Jakes hand and on his lap where the blood stained it. "Jacob." Holt said, moving his head a little. "Jake." He repeated as Jake slurred his words, sirens sounding in the distance. Amy's voice distant on the phone. "Santiago." Holt said into the phone. "I will see you here." He said. "Okay. Okay. Please keep him awake." Amy begged, already driving. "I will do my best." Holt said, before hanging up.
"Jacob." Holt repeated, his heart racing seeing Jakes distant look. "Captain," Jake said, voice wavering in fear and ache. Fear. Fear, so much fucking fear. He was supposed to have a kid with Amy. Have her forever in his life. She was supposed to have him forever in her life.
"Jacob!" He raised his voice a little more as Jake snapped back into reality, constantly leaving and coming back. And when he snapped back he was being lifted on a gurney.
Jake mumbles words but they trailed off as the paramedics spoke and pressed onto his wounds, his eyes landing on the crowd. The clothes, he recognized them as Amy's pajamas. Which she had probably changed in to at home and didn't bother changing out of when she got the call. He was trying to look at her face as she ran over to the paramedics and hopped into the ambulance with him.
A hand, a warm hand holding onto his slowly freezing hand, stained with blood, the same hand pushing his hair back to look at his glazed over, desperate, distant eyes.
Jake's vision was blurry as he opened his eyes again and this time, awakened in a hospital. The lights a bit too bright for his liking and in too much pain than he'd rather be in.
The same hand still holding his while someone talked before attention shifted to him, a doctor at his side walking over. "Hello?" The man spoke. The hand holding his squeezed his a little and he regained his sense of reality little by little. "Hi." Jake responds in a raspy voice. It was kind of hard to talk. He'd prefer to stay quiet. For once, in his life.
"Do you know where you are?" The doctor asked. "Hospital." Jake hummed. His eyes couldn't focus on one thing for too long, the blurriness always returning after.
A couple more questions to make sure he had no damage done to him and he remembered everything. Once the doctor left, he was left with Amy sitting next to him.
"Are you feeling okay?" She asked, worry clear on her face as her thumb rubbed his hand reassuringly. "My thigh and stomach hurts." He mumbled to her, hand tightening a little over hers.
"Doctor said it didn't hit anything critical. I think they'll tell you more about it later. But you might have to go through physical therapy to walk again." She said. "But I'll be able to?" He asked, hoping to the big man he would be able to chase again, to walk. "Yeah. Maybe with a limp. But yes." She nods.
"That'd be such a cool story." He said with a weak smile. Amy let out a small laugh at his humor even at a time like this. "It will." She nods.
Staying in the hospital was so boring. He had to wait for the wounds to heal properly until he could even try walking or going home.
But eventually he was able to start walking, getting help obviously and having a limp. He couldn't put too much pressure on his leg or else it would start fucking burning up with pain.
He was walking through the halls of the hospital, making his way back to his room as he glanced back up and spotted Holt.
"Jacob." He said, a sense of relief running through his tense body and face as Kevin, who was next to him, turned too. "Hey." Jake said with a smile, leaning against the crutches he was using.
"Jake. How are you?" Kevin spoke. "I'm okay. Working on it during physical therapy." Jake nods, making his way into his hospital room, urging them to follow. And so they did. He put his crutches aside, jumping onto his bed and covering himself with his blanket as both Holt and Kevin sat to his right.
"I apologize. We could not come any sooner. We did catch the killer. Rosa managed to take him down with Amy." He states, eyes trailing over the bandaged wounds on Jake's body. "It's no big deal." Jake said. "I can handle myself anyway. I really wish I was able to catch the dude. But at least he's behind bars. I didn't wanna be the last one on his victims list, so thank God I didn't die." Jake said with a smile that radiated the opposite of despair or sadness, or any negative emotion for that matter.
It was so...weird, so odd how Jake could stay happy in such a time. And such a place. He got shot three times and he's not even sounding or looking like he's in any form of pain.
"We were all worried about you, Jake." Kevin said. "I'm glad you are healing now, though. I don't know what we would have done if you didn't wake up." He adds, eyebrows furrowing just a touch as he spoke. Jake couldn't help but feel his stomach twist.
They've always been like fathers to him. Doesn't matter their flaws or issues, they've always been so close to him even if they didn't show it. Everyone else has to. Despite Rosa's attitude, she clearly cares. Boyle clearly does, with how much he walks up to Jake and rants about how he's his favorite person. Terry and Jake don't talk much but they're still close. They work cases and Terry's always carrying Jake, no matter what. Gina is Jake's childhood friend. Despite her constant "fuck off" and "stress free" attitude, and how she's always talking everyone down in a friendly matter, she cares for Jake. And Amy,
Oh, god. Jake doesn't know what she'd do if he hadn't woken up. Jake's throat tightens a bit and he forces his smile to widen a little since it had fallen as he thought and pondered about what could've been.
"Well, I'm alive!" He smiled. "And I'll hopefully not be in another hospital again. What is with me and hospitals?" He mumbled that last sentence, eyebrows furrowing as he recalled all the times he's been in the hospital. Like that one he got hit by a car and had internal bleeding. In his defense, the blood is supposed to be inside.
"What happened to the cat?" Jake brought up, turning to Holt. "It was put into a shelter." Holt said. Jake nods. "Okay. How's the precinct?" He asked, finding himself bored and trying to find something to talk about. "A bit slow. Boyle is complaining about how he wants you to come back as soon as possible. Amy has been very clearly stressed about you and your health recovery. And Gina is..." He paused. "Plastering memes onto photos of you in the hospital."
"Huh." Jake nods. "Well, that's nice." He smiled. "At least someone's having fun."
"Jake?" A voice came through. He turned, seeing Ross walk in. "Rosa! Hey!" He smiled. "We'll leave you two to talk." Holt said, leaving with Kevin.
"Hey, fucking dumbass." Rosa insulted kindly (oh, the irony), hands in her pockets as she walked over. "How's your leg? And stomach?" She questioned, glancing down at him. "Eh. Hurts like a bitch. But they're just becoming sore now." He said, shrugging it off. "Was there an exit wound for them all?" She questioned. "Nah. Only the thigh." Jake answers. "Makes sense. I was wondering how you didn't bleed out sooner." She said, eyes glaring over his bandages wounds.
Rosa sighed, glancing away. "That was reckless." She mumbled. "We could've lost you." She hummed additionally, turning back to him. "Don't. Ever do that again." She scolded, a hint of caring and concern in her eyes beneath the slight tint of anger flaring. Jake nods.
"Didn't mean to scare you." Jake mumbles, looking away. "I thought he wouldn't shoot! I mean, most criminals don't." He huffs. "Is a serial killer 'most criminals?'" Rosa asked, arms folded. "...no." Jake mumbles. "Exactly." Rosa hissed.
After a beat of silence, Rosa spoke up again. "Amy was worried sick. She didn't know if you were gonna be okay." She shuffled a bit on her feet. "So, for the love of god, don't do something like that again. She can't lose you. And..." Rosa sighs. "We can't either."
Jake, amused, smiled and found an opening to tease Rosa about caring. "So you care about me?" He said with a big, goofy grin on his face. "Yes." She states. "Oh. Didn't expect you to admit that." Jake hums, glancing away, then back at her.
"I don't know why you're going after me." He said after a beat. "I mean, you and Amy were the one's who finished the case, right?" He adds. "Be sure we wanted to get the dude in case you did end up dead. We wanted to avenge you before you could even die." She answers. "That sounds like a cool movie line." Jake grinned.
"I'm gonna go back to the precinct." Rosa said. "I'll tell Boyle you're awake. He'll probably bring you gifts so...just be wary. He's missed you a lot." She said. "Got it. Tell him I said hi!" Jake said, as she walked out the room.
A couple hours have passed by now. There's not much to do except watch Die hard repeatedly on the TV. Which, he isn't complaining about to be honest. He'd watch it ten thousand times if he was given the chance to or told to do so.
His eyes turned to the door, where he heard a knock as Charles walked with a teddy bear, a balloon that said "GET WELL SOON!" And what looked like a singular rose flower. "Heyyy!" Charles smiled as he ran over. "Hey, man! What's up?" Jake smiled, accepting the hug Charles gave him. "I was so worried about you, Jake!" Charles said, handing him the stuffed bear and thing the balloon to the desk nearby. "I heard." Jake nods.
"How are you? Are you healing up okay? It hurt like a bitch, right? You're lucky you didn't get shot in the ass." Charles brought up. Jake winced internally as he remembered the time Charles had been shot twice in the ass while trying to save Rosa, if he recalls or remembers correctly. (I just put that line cause I don't remember if that's what actually happens. Anyway) "Yeah, nothing some physical therapy can't fix." Jake brushed off. "Just got shot twice in the abdomen and once in the thigh."
"Ouch. I heard it was bad but not that bad..." Charles grimaced, putting the flower on the side. "Well... it's only sore now." Jake lied. In reality, it was still aching, or, hell, even throbbing. But he didn't have a problem hiding it. He was pretty good at it.
"Try not too move too much." Boyle suggests. "Do what physical therapy tells you, but never the additional steps. It always hurts more." He adds, hands on his hips. "Then why would they suggest the additional steps if it doesn't help?" Jake furrowed his eyebrows. "I don't know either!" Charles exclaimed, but not too loudly.
"It's kind of stupid. Like, I think mine reopened multiple times from the additional steps when I was in the hospital doing physical therapy." Charles recalls. "Well! Isn't that swell?" Jake said sarcastically. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Hey, how's Nikolaj?" Jake asked, switching the topic of gunshot wounds to Charles's son. "Nikolaj." Charles corrected. "You know I'm saying it right." "Whatever. He's good! He's been into planes a lot more recently. He loves pointing them out when they're in the sky. Although, he did say something about one crashing into a tower and I think he's learned about..." "About '01?" Jake asked. "...yeaaahhh..." Charles nods, dragging his words out slowly. "On the bright side, at least he's learning." Jake suggests.
"Yeah... he's becoming a really fast learner too! I've already taught him how to cook some simple stuff!" Charles said excitedly, smiling. "Yeah? Like what?" Jake questioned. "Roast chicken and potatoes." Jake paused when Charles said that. "That's simple? Oh my god, I don't know how I've made it this far." Jake mumbled to himself. "Yeah! He's really good at it too. I wanted to keep the tradition going." Charles nods. "Oh, it's a tradition?" Jake asked, tilting his head a little bit. "It was the only dish my mom knew how to cook." Charles nods. "I picked it up from her. Nikolaj learned in two days!" He exclaimed happily, which in exchange, Jake smiled.
"Oh, hold on." Charles said, stepping away to take a phone call from who Jake could only assume was Genevieve. Before Charles turned back. "I have to go, Jakey. But I'll visit soon!" He said. "That's alright. I'll see you soon then. Tell Nikolaj I said hi!" Jake said, as Charles walked off. "Nikolaj!" Charles corrected. "Whatever!" Jake pouted.
The balloon Charles brought for him went POP! He groggily wakes up, groaning as he shifts in his uncomfortable hospital bed. His eyes glance around the dark, eerily quiet, and foggy room.
He coughed and hacked as he sat up, hearing the sound of what sounded like a smoke detector going off. There was smoke in his room and doctors running with what seemed to be patients.
One of the doctors, or a male nurse, he couldn't exactly tell, urged him up. He winced as he got onto his legs. He couldn't see well, and he could see what looked to be flames outside his room. He was frightened. Frightened and confused. and worried. Seriously, what is it with him being in life or death situations? Can't he get a break every once in a while?
"What's happening?" Jake asked, eyebrows furrowing as he looked around, trying to figure out where the fire came from and why it was caused. He blinked, and his eyes burned. He was trying to get used to being awake. "There's a fire on this floor." The doctor responded. "We need to get you out to the lower floors and out of the building." He adds, dragging Jake with him as they ran. Or, well, as Jake tried to run.
Every step was painful as he ran down the stairs, elevator out of order. He could see from afar, a bright red, looming fire in one of the big hallways, the flames sounding and crackling with every whip they made against the wall and air. There weren't many people on the floor, so he assumed he was one of the last to be evacuated. But he's also not sure how he didn't wake up from the sound of the alarm or the smell of smoke. At the same time, he doesn't even wake up to his own alarm clock, so it's not all that surprising.
For once, he was grateful he could at least walk and didn't have any sort of condition like asthma. Seeing the people hacking and coughing, or carried out of their wheelchair or bed, it broke his heart. He looked back down at the staircase as the doctor rushed him to go down. Some firefighters were already inside helping clear out the floor, while some other units walked up to floors which need more care.
The air around them was starting to get thick with smoke, more than it already has. He could feel the smoke fill his lungs slow, and steady, the doctor shoving a wet cloth over his face. Jake's hands stuttered and grabbed onto the cloth, pushing it against his mouth and nose as he breath through it and pushed down the stairs painfully on each leg. So much for not doing additional steps or doing too much moving. Why couldn't he have been put on one of the lower floors? He groaned at the thought. If he was on one of the middle, high-ish floors, that means the fire was somewhere higher.
His abdomen was starting to hurt like a bitch from huffing and running so much, the soreness that usually came with him running turned into aching pain that felt like he got stabbed, or shot again. He winced and whined as the fireman urged him to keep going, even in the midst of the chaos. What the hell? How did this happen? This was getting so much worse by the second. He switched hands and held the cloth with his left arm, stumbling a little when he lost his footing and scraping his arm on sharp metal. it didn't hurt, at least not yet. That was just the adrenaline, though. No doubt the pain would catch up to him eventually when he was safe and being taken care of. He only felt the dull scrape, but he didn't pay attention to the blood that tickled his right forearm as it fell steadily.
He was pushed through so many flights of stairs he was almost going to collapse. Every floor they passed, had been either fully evacuated or still in the process of being evacuated. Some paramedics were running up, and the sound of radios and voices on the other side of them was something he had gotten used to on his way down. He stumbled once they reached the lobby, pushing through the aching pain as he pushed through the glass doors and made his way outside, pushed further from the burning hospital as he looked up, the flames engulfing the floors he was previously on, somewhere in the middle. The most ironic thing was, it was raining outside. The droplets falling on him and around him, and everyone else lingering to look at the scene.
"What happened?" He asked the police woman standing by. "Someone started a fire. We're not sure if it was on purpose." She answered. An inside job, huh? Wasn't anything new. That'll probably be another case for the nine-nine to work on. God, he just wanted to go back already...
Jake turned at the crowd that had formed right outside the burning hospital. No familiar faces yet, not that he could see right away. "Sir!" One of the nurses called and he turned instinctively, as she waved him over. He ran to her and she guided him away from the fire-y scenery. She had on the same scrubs the others around her wore. "You're bleeding, let me take care of that." She adds on, and he looks down at his arm when she took it. He let the cloth go from his left hand and put it down as she started disinfecting. He winced.
He had bandages on under his shorts and short sleeve shirt, that were starting to get soaked because of the rain that made him drip head to toe. He was offered a raincoat, and he gladly took it, wrapping it around his both freezing and warm body as soon as the nurse finished wrapping his injured arm up.
He'd probably be put into another hospital, which he really didn't want because he liked being here, outside, in rain like this. How many times did he miss the rain pouring down, unable to go out there? How many times did he forget what the outside scenery was really like, not being stuck in a hospital?
He brushed away the thoughts as he glanced along some of the other patients by him. This didn't seem like it could be accidental. He distinctively remembers his eyes catching a figure with what seemed like a bottle of god knows what, pouring it onto the already spreading fire before it itself got consumed by the fire. A suicide mission. Jake had to push away the thought of how cool a suicide mission was even though it wasn't really, hands stuffing into his pockets. He'd most likely tell Amy about it so she could write it down when the case is started. Therefore at least he'll be some help, instead of him just sitting around doing nothing.
The fire only seemed to grow as the firefighters finally got the hose to put it out. A knot formed in his stomach and a melancholy feeling washed over him as he thought about those who couldn't make it down. Those who were on life support and probably wouldn't survive either way. Those who were being worked on as the fire had started. Those who couldn't. Who just couldn't get out. Even if they really wanted to.
He took in a breath and let it out slowly. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He didn't want to feel sad. Not now. He was just worried. He wanted to go home. He didn't know what to do. It's not like he could talk to anyone about this. He didn't have his phone, and he couldn't spot anyone he worked with or was friends with. He wished for Amy. Or for Holt. Or Kevin, even. But he couldn't see anyone. Not a glance of Gina, or Terry, or Boyle. Or Rosa. No one he could recognize.
It was only then the feeling hit. The homesick feeling. The feeling of being lonely. It felt so weird because usually he always had someone sitting or standing around him, whether it be somewhere in public or somewhere in the precinct, even at home now that he lives with Amy. But he's now constantly surrounded by doctors and nurses and emergency personnel, and it doesn't feel like those who he love come visit enough. He can only look back right now that he's alone. Think, sit alone with his own thoughts. He really wished he could go out while he did physical therapy, opening the window of the hospital room just wasn't enough for him. he wanted to actually walk, to run, to jump and do some stupid shit while he's on the job. He wants to go home.
He was offered a chair. And of course, he sat down with a grunt as he sighed. His thigh and abdomen ached and he had minor injuries from bumping into a wall or two on the way down.
"Jake!" He jumped when he felt arms wrap around him, the familiar scent of Amy's perfume filling him with warmth as he hugged back. She was just as soaked from the rain as he was, except she didn't have the small burns like his. "Oh my god, you're okay." She rushed worriedly, shivering slightly under the medical tent that had been set up over his head. "Yeah." Jake nodded.
"Do you know what happened?" Jake asked, as Amy pulled back. "No. They're saying it might've been one of the staff." She said, kneeling in front of him, noticing his slight grimaces here and there and his uncomfortable position. "Are you okay?” She questions, looking back up at him. "Uh, yeah. Just...running made me tired and it made my stomach hurt. Bumped into a couple walls on my way down." He brushed off. "No, are you okay? Your bandage." She pointed out, pointing to the bandage wrapped on his right arm. "Oh." He answered. He forgot about that...
"I think it was when I tripped." He said. "I scraped my arm against something sharp but I didn't feel it. I think it was the adrenaline." He adds. Just another bandage to add to the collection. Another injury. He refrained from cussing at himself. "Adrenaline is a hell of a drug..." Amy nods with a murmur.
Jake glanced away, a pause taking place in their conversation as he looked back at the fire which was being put out, glazing over the patients that had been rushed out. "Where are the others?" He asked, before finally turning back to Amy, who had been looking at what he had been to before turning back to him. "They're on their way, hopefully. It's around 1 AM. But I saw the news. I couldn't sleep so I just...switched something on." She shrugged. "Then I drove here as soon as I heard the news. Took me a while to find you. i called up some of the others already and sent them messages." She adds, hand holding his as her thumb traced over the back of his hand.
"You think the healing process is gonna slow down more than it already is?" He asked, turning to the bandaged injuries. "Maybe." Amy shrugs. "We'll have to get the doctor's opinion. It could be dangerous that you ran that much, only halfway through your recovery." She states, worried eyes staring back at his. He just nods.
"I think we should just focus on if you're okay." Amy said quietly. "...okay." Jake nods, noting the fear in Amy's eyes. He felt bad. For getting into this situation at all. If he hadn't worked that case, he wouldn't have been here at all. He also blames the person who brought the hospital up in flames, he seriously didn't want to stay inside another hospital for more time. But if he's being honest, he's gotten pretty used to the area and the people there. They're nice.
Notes:
...so
Different POV coming next chapter:3
Spelling mistakes? In MY story? NEVER!! (Please tell me)
Chapter 3: "FIRE???"
Summary:
You don't need a summary! It's all good guys! Read.
Jk guys UHM
Different points of views of Raymond Holt, Kevin Cozner, Amy Santiago, and other characters of when they hear about the hospital burning. Let's see!
Notes:
Guys I have NOT updated a bunch of my stories for a while and I just started a third one...like hello wtf am I doing anyway
DIFFERENT POVS AS I SAID!! I don't want to delay this chapter more so we're gonna do just two POVS (Amy's and Holt's) for now!! The other POVS will be in the fourth chapter, PINKY SWEAR WITH A KISS!!! anyways pls check out my third story it's a 9-1-1 (tv series) one and it's Buddie (buck x Eddie) guys pls
Mb for late chapter my friend's stomach landed her in the hospital cus she dead ass couldn't walk cus of the pain. My legs hurt from the performances I've had in mariachi, I had a quince as a dama, highschool SUCKS, I'm suicidal, but here's your chapter guys!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Holt had a tiring and exhausting day.
It's been a few days since Jake landed in the hospital. Ever since then, it's been incredibly tiring. And for some reason, he can't help but miss his work-son. Or rather, the loudness of him. As much as he scolds him for it, it's something he's learned to like.
He puts his coat up. He can hear the shower running, so it must mean Kevin was in the shower. It sounded like the soft drizzle outside of their house. He took off his shoes and walked away from the door, sneaking around the dimly lit house and going up the stairs to his room.
He got changed into more comfortable clothes as he sat down on his bed, turning the lamp beside him on to read and pass the time while he waits for his husband to get out of the shower. He needed to get himself to relax, but he's not sure how to do that. Cheddar was somewhere on the other side of the house when he had entered, and based off the crumbs left in the bowl, he assumed Kevin fed him. But it wouldn't hurt to give him more food.
He put his book down and got off his bed, getting back to his feet as he walked down the stairs and grabbed the dog food from the cabinet. "Hi Cheddar." He greets the dog, petting his soft fur. He pours some dog food into the bowl, filling it.
"Raymond? Is that you?" A voice calls out from the top. He turns up and sees Kevin in pajamas. "Yes, it's me." He said, standing up. "Are you done with your shower?" He said, basically stating the obvious as he puts away the dog food. "Yes, I just finished up." Kevin nods, as Holt walks up the stairs to him. He plants a kiss on his husband's lips.
Holt turned the hallway lights off. "How is Jake?" Kevin asked, as they made their way back to their room. "He seems to be doing fine. The last time I visited, he was already up and walking. He has been getting impatient." Holt explains, as he walks in. Kevin shuts the door behind them. "I'd assume so. He isn't one for waiting, is he?" Kevin hummed, joining Holt into bed.
"Not at all..." Holt mumbled, reaching for the remote as he got comfortable, turning on the TV. The news was on, (how cliche.) and there was a reporter with a raincoat covering the fact a hospital was burning and that the police believe it was done intentionally by someone from inside. An inside job, in other words.
"My god..." Kevin mumbled. "...isn't that Jake's hospital?" He followed up, turning to face Holt, who had already come to that realization from reading the subtitles. "Yes. We have to go." He said, immediately getting off his bed. He really didn't get to rest, did he? Constantly in and out of bed...just when he got comfortable, too.
He slipped on his shoes and Kevin followed suit, hurrying to catch up with his worried sick husband that didn't plan on stopping until he made sure Jake was fine. He had passed that hospital about an hour ago, how would it have caught fire so fast? He grabbed his keys and he ran out of the house. Kevin locked the door behind them. The rain was drizzling right now. Nothing bad. But it was sure to get worse.
Holt ran into the driver's seat while Kevin took the passenger's. He could see smoke in the distance. Seriously, what the hell?
As he started the car, he started driving as fast as he could, stuffing his phone into Kevin's hands. "Kevin, call Santiago. She's in my contacts." He ordered. Kevin didn't waste another second, seeing the clear distress on his husband's face. He opened the phone and searched the contacts until he found it, calling the number.
...
"Hello?" The feminine voice calls, a sound of a crowd in the background. "Hello, Raymond would like to speak with you." Kevin answered. "Oh, okay. Can this be quick? I'm a little busy right now." She said, trying to keep the worry out of her voice as Kevin put the phone to Holt's ear. "Santiago. This is Raymond." He states. "Hi captain. What's up?" She asked.
"Did you see the news about Jake's hospital?" He asked, eyes peeled to the road. He stopped at a red light. He was getting impatient, just like Jake. "Yes, I'm already here." She answered. "I'm still looking for him in the crowd, there's a lot of patients..." She adds.
"How bad is the damage? Are you certain he got out?" Holt asked. "Well, the fire was apparently started near the middle floors of the hospital and spread up. But it's starting to spread to other bottom floors." She explained. "I don't know if he got out, there's too many people to tell...and they won't exactly let us see them just yet." She adds.
"If you see him, please let me know. I'm on my way." He answered. "Okay. I'll see you here, sir." She said, as he hung up the phone.
Amy bit the inside of her cheek. She couldn't spot Jake anywhere. She was starting to get worried. What if he was hurt in there? Would she see him again? Why does this always happen to him?!!!?!??! The rain poured down onto her. She couldn't stand it. It was ironic. There was a giant fire and it was raining.
She looked around and desperately tried to spot him into he crowd of patients. There were a couple tents outside of the hospital, a good distance, that had people being taken care of. Nurses and doctors running around to make sure people had the right accommodations. And even then, she couldn't spot a single glimpse of the doctor she would see in Jake's room, or Jake in general.
The raindrops fell steadily against the ground. The clouds were a dark grey, and it was almost relaxing to look at the sky. But it was hard to be relaxed while you were unsure if your husband was in a burning building or somewhere hidden in the crowd.
She sighed. Maybe she should wait a little bit and perhaps he'll be out by then. Or at least easier to spot. She should do something to pass the time. She can't exactly distract herself from what's happening, it'll be all over the news. And no doubt this will be a case for the nine-nine when they get back...she just had to pray that Jake isn't dead or stuck in that hospital.
Gina's house was nearby. Maybe she could go tell her about how the hospital was literally being burnt to a damn crisp. She took a couple glanced at the firefighters using their hoses to put away the fire, then away. This was probably another day for them and the worst day of her life. Amy pushed through the crowd of people that were chatting and yelling, trying to find their loved ones too.
She was just as desperate as they were, but she didn't yell about it like they did. Yelling wouldn't do anything. They wouldn't let them through for a reason, the fire could be dangerous.
A burning pit in her stomach, just as hot as the fire in the hospital, started to form. She didn't want to think of all the lives that were to be lost in the hospital. What if one of them was Jake? Could it be that's why she can't see him there? What if he was lying on the ground, heart already still and not beating as people pass him by to try and escape? What if her husband was no more? It was a total possibility, she just really wished it wouldn't turn out to be true.
She brushed away the evil, nauseating thought, and pushed through the crowd of strangers like she pushed through her crowded mind. She searched for her car and jumped into the driver's seat, starting it up as she starts driving in the direction of Gina's house. She'll probably stop by Rosa's quickly too, since they surprisingly don't live too far from Gina's house.
Gina groaned and got up from the couch, where she was sat next to Rosa. The doorbell was ringing. "I'm coming! I'm coming! Jesus Christ..." ("Title of her sex-tape." Jake hummed...) Gina got up from the couch and Rosa followed, pausing the TV series they were watching, putting down the bowl of popcorn in her hands.
Gina walked — or...strutted... — to the door and opened it. "Oh. It's you." Gina mumbled with a lack of amusement in her tone, looking at Amy. Who was wearing a hoodie and sweats, drenched in the rain that was starting to pour harder outside. But Amy didn't care about the rain anymore. "Jeez, girl. You look like you just got out of a one nightstand and stole whatever clothes you could find to get out of there quickly because you forgot you and your boyfriend had a breakfast date that morning." She compared. "I'm literally married!" Amy huffs in annoyance.
"To a man who is basically a cripple now." Rosa said, popping up beside Gina. Amy pouts, but at least she didn't have to drive more to see Rosa and tell her what happened. She killed two birds with one stone...I think. "He's not a cripple! Jesus! Why do you keep saying that?" Amy defended. "It's true. He might as well be." Rosa hums.
"That's not what I'm here for! Have you two not watched the news or anything?!" She said, her voice slightly rising. She was getting annoyed. And irritated. And desperate. "Hell no! You think I watch that boring ass channel?" Gina scoffs. "You're out of your mind, girl."
"It won't be so boring when you find out Jake's hospital is on literal fire." "What?" Rosa said, straightening up as she takes her left hand out of her pocket. "Since when? That's a little ironic considering it's pouring outside." She said, a flash of worry crossing her usually stoic face as she thinks about what Amy just dropped on the two of them.
"FIRE???" Gina exclaims in disbelief. "Like, a bonfire fire???" She said, making sure she understood. "Yes!" Amy exclaims right back. "I can't find him anywhere. But just— get there as soon as you can! I'm leaving now to see if I can find him again in that stupid crowd." She hurriedly said her words as if she had a time limit. She felt like she needed to be there. Now. Right now.
"I'll go put on my shoes. Gina, you're driving. Get the keys and start the car, I need to get us jackets from your closet." Rosa said, stepping away from the door and to the living room to get her shoes first.
Amy walked off without hearing another word that Gina or Rosa spoke, getting into her car as she starts it up again, making her way back to the hospital which was turning to ashes by the second. She could smell that damn fire and smoke from her place in her car, but it was mixed with the smell of rain. It was so...weird. The rain and the fire.
She started up her car and made her way back to the hospital as she parked and grabbed her phone, scrolling through her contacts and sending a mass message that simply read--- "Jake's hospital is on fire, I'm looking for him in the crowd. Get to the scene if you can."
She shoves her phone into her pocket, causing it to almost fall cause of the bad aim and the terrible miss, then jumped out of her car, turning to the crowd behind the fence that had started to get larger now that the news was spreading. Just like the fire that rose steadily. It was starting to cease due to the rain and all the firefighters, but it was still very prominent. The firefighters were mainly trying to get people out first before actually putting out the fire. Considering it was a big ass fucking fire, that'd be the logical option.
Her mind was racing. Faster than her heart. If not, just as fast. She wasn't thinking straight, she didn't know what to do, what if she was too late? What if he became just another statistic?
Amy ran through the crowd of worried and crying people. She pushed through and kept repeating a mantra of "sorry sorry sorry", almost like how Jake would always repeat "cool cool cool no doubt no doubt" and it pained her to come to that realization even though she knew there was a big chance he made it out.
Her eyes looked everywhere, from one tent to another. She pulled her hair out of her face and jumped the fence.
Immediately, she was told to get back but she had already spotted Jake and nothing was going to stop her if it meant she could hug him again. He sat there, looking lonely from afar even if he was probably just zoned out. She hated breaking rules. She was a law-abiding citizen. She was a teacher's pet. But she's break the rules of the universe if it meant she could hug Jake again and stay interlocked with him as one forever.
She was moving subconsciously. Her mind was foggy yet clear that thoughts rushed in despite he remind already being clouded by them. They kept filling her mind the closer she got. And the closer she got, the more desperate she was to hold him.
"Jake!" She yelled. Her voice wasn't as loud as she thought it would be but she wrapped her arms tight around him. He flinched, but he immediately noticed it was her from her perfume and the familiar feel of her arms around him.
Notes:
:3
romanznumeral on Chapter 1 Sat 29 Jun 2024 03:44AM UTC
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