Jake Peralta One Shots

Safe house (part 2)

TW: Slight mentions of self-harm and depression

It was the morning after the incident at the safe house, not to mention the fact that Boyle'd been shot in the butt. Now everybody was back at work(Except for Boyle of course), everything was back to normal. Except for the humiliating incident in the safe house the night before. Jake was so scared of what his captain might think if him right now. And sure, he'd seemed to care, not disgusted like he initially thought he would be. But what if now that he'd had time to think, he'd changed his mind. All the respect he'd worked so hard to gain, all gone because he was too weak to stay clean. 

Now he was sitting at his desk, supposed to be working, but he kept getting distracted by his own thoughts. He'd just been staring at his computer screen, anxiously tapping his fingers against his desk until Captain Holt had come out of his office.

"Peralta, my office" By the time Jake's shock had worn off, Holt had already walked back into his office. Jake wasted no time in getting up up and putting on a confident facade in an attempt to conceal how nervous he was. He stepped into the office the exact same way he had the day before. He sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the Captain.

"I wanted to talk to you about yesterdays incident" He said, expression unreadable.  Oh shit.

"You mean how we all epically saved your life and Charles got shot in the butt?" Jake tried to change the subject, but all he got in return was a hard glare.

"I was referring to your injuries on your wrists and arms, which I am assuming are self-inflicted" Holt said. Jake scoffed, and replied in an extremely high, fake shocked voice.

"What? Self-inflicted? Captain, not to offend your detective skills, but that's- it's not- ehm it's not like that." He struggled to come up with something believable, but it was probably a little late for that.

"I've been doing detective work for a long time, and I know what self-harm looks like" Holt defended, and Jake closed his mouth, as he was just about to further protest. They both stayed silent for a few more seconds, but to Jake it felt like hours. Then Holt finally started talking again.

"I did not bring this up to accuse you of anything, I'm telling you this because it saddens me that you're doing this to yourself." Jake was surprised by his captains words. It saddens him? What?

"Normally I would not discuss such private things with my subordinates, but I don't want you to continue like this." Jake stopped him before he could continue.

"I'm sorry Captain, it won't effect my work, I promise. I've got it under control." Captain Holt studied the man in front of him, trying to find a way to get him help without overstepping. Well, it was to late for that now. Jake was fidgeting nervously, preparing himself for the captains reply. Instead of answering, Holt leaned back in his chair, mind churning trying to find the right words.

"The cause of my concern is not due to your work efficiency, I am concerned for your well being, I do not enjoy watching you suffer like this." Why do you care? Jake thought to himself, no one else did anyways. Holt continued.

"Which is why I'm suggesting that you take this afternoon off, I can make an appointment with a department therapist for you." Jake let out a forced, almost manic laughter at that. Like he wasn't already seeing his psychiatrist every single day by now. Holt seemed confused by Jake's reaction, understandable. Jake realized that he should probably clear some things up.

"I'm sorry, it's just- There's nothing you can do that I haven't tried already. I'm seeing my psychiatrist all the time, taking my meds, but nothings working. I don't know why, maybe the world just hates me. But you can't help me sir, I can't even help myself." Jake hoped Holt would drop the subject, he couldn't have been more wrong.

"Please elaborate, what do you mean with 'you can't even help yourself'?" Jake decided just to come clean and tell him everything. Maybe he'd finally lay of off him when he realized that he was just another lost cause, not worth his time and worry.

"Well, I was diagnosed with depression when I was 15, and I've struggled with it ever since. No matter how hard I try, it always come back and nothing seems to works. But that's my problem, you shouldn't waste your time on me, it's not worth it." Jake thought he'd finally convinced his Captain, but his expression was still stoic as usual. But if you looked closely, you could see concern, concern for the man in front of him. How can he think that no one cares? That he's worth his time?

"Jacob, I can assure you, this will pass. And my concern has, and will not subside just because you think you're not worthy of it. I am however, glad that you are getting help, and I will try and help in whatever ways I can. I want you to know that you are not alone, the whole squad cares for you, and would not hesitate to support you." Jake felt his eyes burn, he looked away, not wanting to cry in front of Holt. This certainly wasn't what he was expecting, Holt actually cared. He was concerned. No one'd ever said that to him before, except for his mom of course, he thinks he should probably call her. Jake clears his throat, willing himself to look Holt in the eye.

"Thank you sir." He didn't think that he could say much more without his voice breaking. 

"It is the I least I could do." Jake gave him a slight smile.

"Dismissed" Jake got up from his chair, moving towards the door. Just as he was about to step out of the office, Holt spoke up again.

"Peralta" Jake turned around, looking at his Captain expectantly.

"My door is always open, metaphorically of course, should you need anything." Jake replied with a simple "Got it, thanks" And closed the door behind him. He left with more hope than he'd had in a long time.

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