Chapter Text
It had been two months since Jake Peralta got out of prison, and he was not doing well, to say the least.
It had been incredible to have Amy by his side as he recovered from some of the things he saw, some of the things that happened to him, but she couldn’t really help with some of the... more challenging parts, like the nightmares, the panic attacks at work, and the constant stinging on Jake’s wrists.
No, his own girlfriend couldn’t help- due to one small issue.
“I’m fine.”
“Babe, I just saw you fall down the stairs, get back up, and then trip over your own feet and fall down again.”
“Oh, Ames. I guess you could say I… fell for you.”
“Get up. We’re going to work,” Amy muttered, leaving Jake to lie on the floor laughing.
And hey, maybe his laugh was a bit forced, and maybe the reason he fell down the stairs was because he could hardly think after only getting four hours of sleep in the last three days.
(The nightmares would probably just go away on their own soon, right?)
See, Jake hadn’t really… told anyone about what had been happening, and what had happened in Rykers. Not his girlfriend, not his Dadptain, not his closest friends/colleagues, no one. To everyone else, he was seemingly the same Jake Peralta from before he was wrongfully accused of a bank robbery, although maybe a bit more mature, but still the same peppy, always-happy Jake.
Jake wasn’t sure if he could ever be that person again.
When he was in prison, he’d seen the prisoners do some shitty things, sure. There had been fights, riots, gangs, and much more shit that the prisoners had caused. But on the other hand… the guards weren't much better.
Jake violently shivered just thinking about what he had to do to get the evidence to get the guard fired for Romero, glad Amy was in the other room so she didn’t worry about him randomly shaking.
She would worry, if she knew the truth. It had been a tough two months of Jake keeping up appearances at work that he was fine, but with Amy? She knew him better than anyone else and she was an amazing detective. It took Jake lying about not wanting to shower together (“That’s what we had to do in prison, I don’t think I’m ready yet” was his excuse), having Adult Fun Time but only with the lights off, trying desperately not to wake her every night when he was awakened by terrors and visions of Romero cutting him open, and doing everything he could not to let out a cry of pain when his girlfriend touched his wrists.
No, Amy would only worry.
Because the truth was, even though he was technically no longer in Rykers, Jake Peralta couldn’t get out of prison.
What kind of detective was he if he was still caught up on that?
Why couldn’t he forget the inmates constantly trying to shank him left and right, the violent descriptions of the deaths of him and his loved ones muttered to him at meal times, the corrupt guards beating up anyone they saw fit with no repercussions, the cellmates who killed themselves that Jake would walk by every day before the janitors could get there and clean up “the mess” themselves?
Another full body shiver. Jake felt his breathing grow rapid as he picked himself off the floor, eyeing the granola bars that he usually ate for breakfast before quickly realizing he couldn’t exactly handle food right now.
Breathe, Jake, he hissed to himself in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Roger’s.
C’mon, you’re a grown-ass man. Rosa’s fine, and she was in there just as long as you. Are you really gonna be the crybaby?
Suck it up.
“Babe? Are you okay?”
Shit, he didn’t even realize Amy had entered the kitchen.
She was looking at him with that face, the one she used when she talked to the victims, the one with sympathy, with pity.
“Fine!” Jake hoped she would ignore his voice crack as he lied through his teeth. “I’m- Everything’s fine! Just… excited for work!”
Amy furrowed her brows, opening her mouth just slightly to call him out on his obvious bullshit, but Jake was always ready to change the subject.
Grinning his trademark grin, he asked, “So, how big is your binder for our date on Thursday?”
“Oh! Hang on, let me grab it!”
Jake laughed as his girlfriend dashed out of the room, a genuine laugh, but the moment was ruined as his sleeve rolled down to expose his wrists and he quickly remembered that he was… well.
He yanked his sleeve back down as the sounds of Amy opening her binder drawer in the other room continued.
She couldn’t know.
He loved her so much it hurt sometimes, and if she knew how fragile she was, she would finally realize how she was too good for him, how she could do better.
And Jake couldn’t do this without her.
He checked the weather app on his phone, quietly groaning when he saw that today was going to be another one of those sweltering days in Brooklyn that made him feel like he was living in an oven, at least when he was outside.
It was days like these when he missed being able to wear t-shirts.
Well, at least the precinct had air-conditioning. At least it wouldn’t seem too weird if he wore his sweater there.
At least he could still convince everyone that he was okay.
...Because he was.
Yup.
“Found it!” Amy called, and fuck, why was he still flinching at loud noises?
“Cool,” He said with as much energy as he could muster. “Cool cool cool cool cool.”
Yes, Jake Peralta was fine.
When Jake and Amy reached the precinct after a sweltering car ride (Jake really needed to invest in a new car, Amy was giving him funny looks the whole ride over because he wouldn’t take his hoodie off and now he was drenched in sweat), he was very ready to enter the air-conditioned precinct. Maybe he would even risk stealing some of Rosa’s ice cream- yeah, it was that hot out.
But as he and Amy walked inside and rode up the elevator, he immediately noticed something quite strange.
”What the-” Jake muttered.
“Um. Rosa? Amy called out to the only other person there- she insisted on showing up early ever since Jake had moved in with her, so it was only Rosa in the bullpen and Holt in his office.
“Air conditioner’s broken,” Rosa said without even looking up. Her leather jacket hung over the back of her chair and she was wearing a black button up shirt, pen furiously scribbling away on her paperwork as she reached up to wipe her brow with the back of her hand.
Jake felt his breath speed up again for the second time that morning at his coworker’s words.
“Since when?” Amy asked, already placing her bag down at her desk and pulling out some paperwork of her own. “God, it is hot in here,” she muttered.
“Since last night,” Rosa said, replying to Amy’s question. “Panksy from the night shift broke it.”
“God, I hate Panksy.”
“Mhm.”
The two women continued to work for another few seconds before the two of them seemed to realize Jake hadn’t moved from his spot near the elevator and was still wearing his sweater.
“Uh…. Babe? You good?” Amy asked.
“I’m fine” Jake wanted to say, but his mouth felt glued shut.
Noooo no no no I’m not back at the prison where there was no air conditioning. I’m at the precinct and the AC is broken. I’m fine. I’m not trapped. I’ll be okay keeping my sweater on. They can’t know, I won’t let them know, I-
“Yo! Jake!”
When had Rosa gotten up? Why did his arm hurt? Did the guard hit him again? Jake flinched, and for a second he could have sworn Rosa actually looked concerned.
Rosa. Rosa is here. I’m at the 99th precinct in Brooklyn.
I’m not at Rikers.
Thank god for those tips Jake had researched online to ground himself when he was in situations like this. That way no one would have to deal with him and his stupid baby problems.
No, he could handle himself. He was fine, remember?
“Jake?”
“Babe, seriously-”
“Rosa! Hi! Hi, Ames! Good to see you!”
“...What the fuck?!”
The elevator dinged behind Jake.
“Amyyyy, close your mouth, you look like a fish,” Gina complained as she walked out. “Wait a second. Why is it so hot in here? And I don’t just mean my bod.”
“One second, Gina, I think Jake is having a stroke,” Rosa muttered, glaring at the previously mentioned detective. “Dude, you’re breathing really fast.”
“Babe? Hey, can you count to four and breathe in and out for me?” Amy murmured, reaching out to touch him, but he flinched away from her outstretched hand.
Breathe, Jake. Don’t have another fucking panic attack at work. You’ll worry them. You can handle yourself, you fucking disappointment-
Gina seemed to finally realize something was up and stepped in front of her childhood friend. “Jakey, I’m gonna take your sweater off, okay-”
“No!” Jake jumped and took a step back from Gina, holding his arms around his torso to stop anyone from taking his hoodie off.
“Uh. I mean. No thanks. I’m okay.”
He grinned and took some exaggerated breaths in and out as if to prove his okay-ness (that would be a fun word to say to get on Holt and Amy’s nerves some other time).
“Just a little hot- uh-” Shit, wrong thing to say, he thought as all three women in front of him opened their mouths to, presumably, say something along the lines of “take your sweater off, then”.
“Um- Not hot enough to take off my sweater, haha!” Jake finished before they could say anything. “Anyways, time to get to work! Those criminals aren’t gonna catch themselves!”
He started walking towards his desk, hoping that he had played it off enough that they wouldn’t suspect anything was up, but then Rosa grabbed his wrist, and- “Ow!” -fuck, that hurt-
“Ow?” Amy asked. Rosa furrowed her brows again.
Did he say that out loud?
“Jakey, why ‘ow’?” Gina asked, a hint of actual concern showing on her face instead of the usual “you’re wasting my time” look.
“Oh, um… just ‘cause… Rosa grabbed me really hard, y’know-”
“No I didn’t,” Rosa deadpanned. “I didn’t grab you hard. At all.”
“...Title of your sex tape?”
(No one laughed.)
Jake was feeling his breathing grow rapid again, the heat, the screaming voice of his dad in his head telling him to fucking man up already, and the concerned weirded out looks on his friend’s faces causing his brain to short-circuit and remind him of that place.
That place, where he’d never felt so lonely in his life, where he was sure Amy and Charles and everyone else would stop visiting him any day now because why would they stay?
That place where he’d seen people- both guards and prisoners alike- do such horrible things to both themselves and others that Jake had completely lost his hope in humanity, his innocence, the way he hadn’t been able to do anything but wither away in a cell, feeling his sanity slipping away each day, and even though he was out, his brain hadn't caught up yet.
His brain still felt like he had to constantly be on edge, like someone was going to stab him in the back at any moment, like everyone would leave at the end of their visit, they always did, and why shouldn’t they, he’s been nothing but a burden since he got back, and… and…
The last thing Jake heard as his vision went black was Amy calling his name.