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The apartment is completely dark by the time Amy finally, finally gets home.
It’s been a hell of a week, one of her first fully back at work since giving birth. She had been ready to go back, missing her job and her colleagues and her entire life outside of their apartment, but she misses her son more than she was prepared for. Adjusting to being back in the precinct and working full-time on top of the full-time job of being a mom has granted her a major shift in perspective - she has never been this tired. Ever.
Still, it’s all so incredibly worth it when she sees the faint light coming from the nursery she and Jake painted baby blue all those months ago, before they could fully understand how dramatically their lives were about to change forever.
She strips off her uniform shirt and pants in the bathroom, opting for the much more comfortable pink silk robe Jake got her for Christmas, and tiptoes into the nursery.
Her heart warms instantly at the sight of Noah sleeping silently in his crib, the yellow nightlight just barely illuminating his perfect little face and the brown curls that seem to be more unruly every day. He looks so much like Jake that it makes her emotional sometimes; she feels so fortunate to have even more of him to love.
“Hey, babe.”
The sound of Jake’s voice startles her, but she relaxes as she turns to see him sitting in the big, comfortable armchair in the corner of the room. They’ve both spent many nights in this chair since they moved Noah into the nursery from their bedroom, either by accidentally falling asleep or sheer refusal to leave their baby for even a few hours.
“Hey.” She keeps her voice at a low volume, knowing neither of them probably has the energy to deal with a crying baby right now. His hand is stretched out to her, so she happily takes it and lets him pull her in. “I missed you today.”
She settles into his lap and wraps her arms around his neck, letting the tranquility of his embrace keep all the anxiety and stress of the week at bay for now.
“We missed you too,” he murmurs against her shoulder, his hand stroking her thigh just below the hem of her robe.
She smiles adoringly at him. “Did my favourite boys have a good day?”
There’s a faraway look in Jake’s eyes as he nods, his faint smile turning unexpectedly solemn in a matter of seconds.
“Everything okay?”
Again, he nods silently, the poorly-lit room making it hard for her to read his face. “I’m just thinking.”
“About what?”
She brings her hand to his forehead to gently push his curls back and run her nails lightly over his scalp, coaxing whatever troubles are swirling around in his brain out of him.
“I don’t know,” Jake sighs. “Being a parent, I guess.”
She waits for him to elaborate, knowing very well that pushing him to delve deep into his inner thoughts before he’s ready will result in nothing more than a sarcastic comment and him brushing her off.
“Before I put him to bed we were just…just watching TV and doing nothing. And Noah was falling asleep on my chest and he did the cute little sigh thing he always does when one of us is holding him. It just sounds like…he feels safe.”
Amy smiles at the image of their baby snuggled up with Jake, only wishing she had been there to see it. She treasures their shared days off more than ever now that they have another member of the family to share them with.
“Of course he feels safe with you, Jake,” she replies, continuing to absent-mindedly play with his hair, “you’re his dad. He loves you.”
“I know,” Jake says with a fleeting smile. “And I love him more than anything in the world.”
“So what’s wrong?”
Jake takes a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with her, and she feels concern set in before he even speaks.
“I don’t understand how anybody could just…leave.”
Amy’s heart clenches tightly in her chest. She fights to control the uncontrollable rage she feels - at Roger, at circumstances out of her control - so that she can refocus her energy on Jake. She’s at a loss for words, all she can do is tightly squeeze his hand that just reached to grab hers.
“I don’t know how anyone could hold their kid - this person that they literally created - that feels so safe and protected by them and needs them, and then just - just walk away and move on with their life.”
His hand is now trembling in hers, and she places her other hand on top to hold him steady.
“Oh, babe,” Amy exhales, tears pooling in her eyes. “That’s because you’re a good person. And an amazing father.”
“Just because I read some books and I haven’t made any horrible mistakes yet doesn’t mean I’m a good dad,” he argues, still avoiding her gaze. Even in the dark, she can see a tear rolling down his cheek, and she moves her hand to wipe it away before her heart shatters completely.
“No, you’re a good dad because you can’t even think about leaving. You would do anything for your family.”
Jake nods; there’s really no debating that. The way he looks at her, the way he looks at their child, is proof enough for her that there’s no earthly force powerful enough to ever tear him away from her again.
“I’m still scared that the history of horrible Peralta fathers is, like, doomed to continue or something,” he mutters.
Despite any reassurance from his dad or Amy or his therapist (a real, licensed one that she found for him immediately following the Easter portion of last year’s heist), she knows that thoughts like these cross his mind from time to time. It’s not something they talk about often, reserved for these hushed, soul-baring moments where he completely unravels before her.
“I know, Jake,” she speaks softly, wiping more tears away, “but you are not your father and you are not your grandfather. You’ve never done anything that has made me doubt your commitment to me or Noah for a second, okay?”
He tightens his grip on her for a moment before his muscles relax completely, and he blinks back unshed tears.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” she repeats once more, leaning in to kiss him slowly and softly. “I love you so much.”
“I love you so much.” His lips curve into a small smile. “I’m sorry I have all this baggage. I always think I’m over it, and then...I don’t know, it’s hard to shake.”
“Don’t apologize, baby,” she says quickly, running her hands up and down his arms. “You’re allowed to have fears. You’re allowed to be scared of being a parent - I get scared sometimes, too. What makes you a better man is that you don’t act on those fears.”
“You sound like my therapist,” he jokes, poking her in the ribs playfully.
She laughs, leaning back into his embrace and letting her head rest on his shoulder. Her hand immediately finds his where its resting on her thigh and interlocks their fingers. “She must be a smart woman.”
“She is, but not as smart as my wife.”
Amy grins contentedly, her thumb running over his wedding ring. She doesn’t think she’ll ever tire of being called his wife.
“She tells me to think about you, you know,” Jake adds. “Whenever I get scared or stressed.”
She raises an eyebrow, tilting her head for a better view of his face. “Really?”
“Yeah, cause when we first started dating I used to get scared I would mess it up like all my past relationships and my parents’ relationship and...you know.” She nods, well aware of every traumatic experience that has hardwired her husband’s brain to be skeptical of commitment. “But once I realized I loved you and you loved me back, I felt so safe. The fear went away.”
Amy’s heart swells with affection, fondly remembering the early days of their relationship. She had always hated guys saying the L word too early in a relationship, but with Jake she found herself having to restrain from saying it after their second or third dates. She had so many feelings for him building and expanding over the years that by the time she finally let him into her heart, it was bursting at the seams with love.
(And it did burst, somewhere on a cruise ship a few hundred miles off the coast of Florida.)
“See, that will happen with this too,” she assures him, kissing his forehead. “Healing takes time, babe, but I’m so proud of you.”
Jake smiles as he leans in to kiss her, gently brushing his lips over hers. They relish in the simple intimacy of it, the kind of moment you rarely get as parents to a six-month old.
She hates to disrupt the peaceful quiet that has enveloped them, but her body is nagging her mind to get some rest. She’s barely slept this week, and she knows she’s in for an early morning tomorrow - Jake’s been home with Noah all week, waking up with him every morning so Amy could rest before work, so he more than deserves a Saturday morning sleep-in.
“We should get to bed,” Amy says, attempting to push herself off Jake’s lap and to her feet.
Jake groans quietly but nods, reluctantly taking her hand and letting her drag him out of the nursery.
“I’m just going to take a shower and then I’ll be right in, okay?”
Amy nods, placing her hand on his chest and standing on her tiptoes to peck the corner of his mouth before heading off to their bedroom.
She changes into Jake’s biggest NYPD shirt, worn so much during her pregnancy that the letters started to fade from the wash. It’s definitively proven to be the comfiest item in either of their closets.
Just as she’s climbing into bed, Jake’s phone starts buzzing on his nightstand, his mother’s name flashing on the screen. She would normally let her exhaustion win and leave it to voicemail, but she reaches over and grabs it just in case it’s important.
“Hi Karen, it’s Amy.”
“Oh, hi, sweetheart, I was just wondering if we were still on for brunch on Sunday. I invited Jake’s Aunt Linda, I hope that’s okay.”
Although Amy’s already slightly disillusioned at the reminder of having to leave the house on one of her only days off to spend with Jake and Noah, she’s even less thrilled about having to see Roger this weekend. It’s nothing she didn’t already know, but every time Jake’s childhood trauma rises to the surface she feels a strong pang of resentment at the man that caused it.
“Amy? You still there?” Karen’s voice rings in her ear, a little louder and necessary. “I can uninvite Linda, it’s not too late-“
“No, Karen, that’s totally fine,” Amy says quickly, though she may regret it when Aunt Linda starts asking about when they’re going to have another kid or suggests a venue for Noah’s bar mitzvah (which is more than twelve years away, as they have lovingly told her several times now). “I just, um - is Roger around?”
“Yeah, he’s just in the kitchen.”
“Can I speak to him for a second?” Amy asks, keeping her tone light and inconspicuous. “I just have a quick question.”
“Sure, I’ll grab him.”
There’s a few moments of silence, and Amy realizes she has no idea what she’s going to say. She’s dreamt about telling him off since the first time she met him, when he stood Jake up at Shaw’s and her blood boiled on behalf of her friend, whom she knew deserved better.
But now he’s her husband, and the father of her child. Now, it’s personal.
“Amy? What’s up?”
It’s not as though she and Roger chat on a regular basis, so she decides to skip the small talk. She pauses for a second to make sure she can still hear the shower running, then dives right in.
“Look, Roger. I know you and Jake are in a pretty good place right now, and Jake’s really happy about that.”
“Yeah, it’s been-“
“But,” Amy continues. “He has pain that he’s been carrying with him for over thirty years because of you. He still questions his ability to be a good dad because of you hardwiring those fears into his brain.”
There’s radio silence on the other end now, so she keeps going.
“My husband is the best man I know. And even though he has trust issues sometimes - also because of you, might I add - he trusts you right now. Our son is going to grow up trusting you. And if you ever do anything to betray that trust-“
She stops herself, deciding to draw the line at threatening her father-in-law with jail time or whatever else she could come up with off the top of her head.
“I just - I refuse to let you hurt him again,” she finishes. “Okay?
There’s another brief pause, and then a muffled “okay.”
“So, we’re clear?”
“I understand, Amy,” Roger says earnestly, and she hopes to god it’s real. “I’m here to stay this time, promise.”
“You better be,” she sighs, pulling the blankets up over her lap as she hears Jake getting out of the shower. “Anyways, um - I’ll see you at brunch.”
She ends the call and places Jake’s phone back where it was, settling into the pillows and grabbing her own phone to idly play Words With Friends against Kylie for a minute.
Jake comes in soon after, a sight to behold in just a towel with his skin glistening from the shower. He shoots her a wink as he drops the towel and pulls on a pair of boxers, earning both an eyeroll and an appreciative stare from Amy.
“Who was that on the phone, babe?” Jake asks a minute later, climbing into his side of the bed.
She hesitates a moment before deciding that it’s best her little chat with Roger stay between the two of them for now. She’s not overly fond of keeping things from Jake, but it’s definitely no secret how she feels about his father. “Your mom, she invited Aunt Linda to brunch Sunday.”
“Oh, how I miss when we had a newborn and could get out of any social obligation,” Jake sighs wistfully.
She plugs her phone in and turns off her reading lamp, curling into Jake’s side and resting her head on his chest. He immediately wraps his arms around her, his face burying in her hair.
“You good?” she murmurs, playing with the collar of his t-shirt.
He nods, pulling her in a little closer. “I love you.”
Amy smiles, sinking into his embrace and letting her eyes fall shut, comforted by the knowledge that Jake is okay and that she will be there to talk him through it and hold him tightly every time he’s not. For the rest of their lives.
“I love you too.”