𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗺. 𝗯𝟵𝟵.

ch. 2

at the risk of sounding like a bad movie cliche, jake found himself replaying the events of the past week in his mind as his blood slowly pooled beneath him, seeping into the carpet.

~~~~~~~~~~

MONDAY 09:32 in the 99th PRECINCT

"and so, amy santiago, that is why my breakfast burrito would be considered a delicacy in multiple different countries."

"jake, for the last time, you can't just wrap candy into a burrito shape and call it a breakfast burrito. that's not how it works."

"uh, sure it is santiago! anything's a burrito if you try hard enough."

she shook her head at that, but ended up smiling anyway. jake peralta was an idiot. a very cute, lovable idiot.

"whatever. i'm calling your dentist when we get home."

"good luck! i don't even have a de-"

"peralta, can i see you in my office for a minute please?"

oh. oh noooooo.

this couldn't be good. holt only ever called him into his office when he was in trouble.

"listen, sir, if this is about the hot sauce i put in charles' weird hungarian tea, i can explain. i honestly didn't even know it would explode like that! i mean, what kind of tea explodes?"

"no, peralta, i have a new case for you. please do not elaborate on this strange tea-story of yours."

jake let out an audible sigh. actually, he had quite looked forward to telling the tea story, because now that he'd said it out loud he realised how funny it was. really, you should've seen charles' face!

"there's a kidnapping case i would like to put you on."

"say no more sir, already interested."

he began to turn around to leave the captain's office.

"actually peralta, it's quite important that i do say more. please sit down."

holt gestured to the seat in front of him, and jake's mind started running a mile a minute. what kind of case could possibly be that difficult? why did holt look like he was actually showing some rare emotion? that was never a good sign.

"we need you to protect a young girl. her brother has already gone missing, kidnapped by an up-and-coming gang. their parents got tied up into some shady business with them, and presumably are indebted to them in some way."

he agreed. and from then, the rest of the day passed in a haze.

paperwork was dropped onto his desk, he completed it, and filed it away. and repeat. he tried to just tune out the activities from the rest of the precinct, which to be fair wasn't  difficult. since scully's opera incident - in which he literally sang opera songs throughout their entire night shift - he had become a pro at simply ignoring what was going on.

he looked chipper as he finally left, waving at the uniforms as he walked out into the streets of new york, but that didn't last long. as soon as he got home he kicked off his shoes, not even bothering to strip himself of his dirty clothes as he practically fell into one of his many massage chairs. this was not going to be a fun week.