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Jake never meant to take the ketamine.
Probably.
Obviously.
(He couldn’t really remember).
But. He was going undercover. And sometimes when you went undercover you had to do things you didn’t necessarily want to do.
For example: Jake Peralta did not want to take the strange gummy-bear-looking edibles he was offered by drug dealer Salmon Patrish (yes, his first name was really Salmon), but his undercover personality- Prent Lewe, a meth-addicted DJ with a tendency for arson- definitely did want to take the ketamine-laced gummies.
(For some reason. Again, Jake couldn’t really remember why.)
So. That was why he was here.
Where was here, again?
Jake looked up from where he had been intently staring at the little droplets of water trickling into the drainage pipe next to the sidewalk on which he was sitting (he could have sworn there was somebody looking back at him in that water, and as a cop, it was his job to get to the bottom of it).
Jake groaned as he looked around, realizing something disturbing.
He did not know where he was.
There were definitely buildings. And graffiti. On the buildings.
And he could hear the sounds of cars close by, but there was nobody else on the empty street where he was apart from a singular light turned on in one of the broken windows in an apartment nearby.
Oh. Wait, it just turned off. Nevermind.
Jake sighed. How had he gotten here, again? He remembered Salmon Patrish. He remembered going undercover to try and catch him. He remembered Holt finally legally adopting him. And he remembered… something about wings? Had he grown wings?
Jake quickly spun around like a cat trying to catch its tail, craning his neck to see if he suddenly had the ability to fly. Nope. Jake felt his eyes prick with tears as his dreams of being the first cop to fly like a bird were crushed. Had he always cried this easily? Wait, did he cry when Holt adopted him? Also, did that actually happen?
Jake shook his head vigorously. Too many questions.
He turned back to the stream of water, feeling something squish in his back pocket as he shuffled back into the position he was in. Why was there a squish?
Jake reached into his pocket to find a small pink bag that, upon further inspection, seemed to contain-
“Candy,” he breathed, a grin spreading across his face as he dug into the bag, pulling out a gummy bear and popping it into his mouth.
“jake? jake!”
prent looked up in the direction of the voices yelling.
oh- wait, that was the wrong direction. other way, prent told himself.
the people yelling about cake or a rake or something ran up to where he was sitting on the ground in the middle of an alleyway. he wasn’t quite sure where.
“jakey! oh my god!” one of the people- a shorter white man with patches of brown hair on his sides and back- exclaimed.
“where the hell was your phone, man!?” said the other guy- a tall, muscular black man with suspenders on overtop of a button-up shirt.
who… who were these people? prent grunted as the shorter man reached him and pulled him into a hug, quickly shoving him off and glaring.
“what the hell? who-who are you?”
buff guy tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at prent.
“seriously, man? we been looking for you for the past two hours and this is what we get?”
these people were looking for him?
“c’mon, jakey, let’s go,” short guy said, turning back to buff guy when prent didn’t answer. “is he okay?” why was the short guy getting taller and turning blue?
“could be a concussion…” and why were buff guy’s suspenders turning into tentacles?
oh, god. prent couldn’t deal with this.
he stood frozen for a second longer as his stalkers muttered to each other before sprinting as fast as he could down the alleyway, hearing the sound of him being pursued two seconds later.
what the fuck was going on?
he needed to see someone he could trust.
he racked his name for a brain- no, his brain for a name- for a few seconds before finally coming up with something. a …fish…? of some sort?
that happened to be the last thought prent lewe had before crashing straight into a metal garage door with a spray-painted penis on it.
“Jakey! Hey, Jake!”
Jake opened his eyes to look towards the direction of the sound of the person calling his name, immediately shutting them afterwards and hissing as the light burned his eyes.
“What…?” He sat up from where he was seemingly lying on the ground of a dirty alleyway, rubbing his head and feeling a bump.
“Oh! Sarge, he’s awake!”
“Charles?”
Charles didn’t answer, turning towards Terry who was currently on his phone with somebody a few feet away. The sergeant immediately said that he would have to call back whoever he was talking to and hung up, jogging towards Jake and crouching down to meet him on the ground.
“Hey, Peralta, you good?” Terry asked, leaning in closer to Jake’s face and inhaling sharply. “Oof, yeah, that’s a concussion, man.”
“T-Terry? Charles? What are you…” Jake winced in pain as he tried to sit up, his head still throbbing. Terry and Charles were certainly looking different than when he had last seen them. When was that, again? He wasn’t sure, but they certainly weren’t this blurry last time. And why was Captain Crunch behind them?
“Cap’ain,” Jake murmured, causing Charles to tilt his head to the side in confusion.
“The Captain’s on his way, Jake,” Terry assured, not seeming to notice the cereal icon behind him. “So are Amy and Rosa.”
“Why are they coming… here?” Jake asked. “Is there a crime here?”
“Is there a- Jake, you crashed into a wall after running away from us and now you have a concussion! Also, what are these?” Charles pulled out a small pink bag from his pocket, opening it up and showing the contents to Jake.
Oh. Salmon. The drug bust.
“Salmon! Where is he!?” Jake shot up trying to get himself to stand up even though his legs felt like they were made of Jell-O.
“Woah, Peralta, sit down,” Terry said. “We got him. He’s back at the precinct, but he still won’t talk about why you took the drugs.”
“Took the-?”
Oh. The gummy bears were drugs. Why did Jake take them, again?
He could remember bits and pieces- getting more drunk with Salmon than he intended while trying to gain his trust, spilling something he hadn’t ever told anyone (which was what, again?), and Salmon guaranteeing him that the ketamine bears could cure his problems… God, the sunlight was really bothering Jake. Was it always this bright?
“C’mon, man, let’s get you to a hospital,” Terry said with Charles right behind him, picking up Jake as he slowly nodded off once again.
He could figure out what he had spilled to some random drug lord while he was drunk later. It was probably nothing.
Charles Boyle hadn't expected his Tuesday to go like this.
He was currently riding in the back of a cop car with his sleeping best friend’s head on his shoulder- his best friend who was currently high, concussed, and seemingly hungover, his best friend whom they had found in the middle of nowhere. Jake was gripping on the Charle’s arm tightly, a worried Terry looking back every few seconds to make sure the two were okay like the dad he was.
They had called Holt, Amy, and Rosa to let them know they would meet them back at the precinct and that they no longer needed them, and they’d been met with a very stern “we are coming to the hospital, detectives" from Holt and a determined “Yeah, we’re coming!” from Amy, not to mention a few death threats from Rosa that showed she was mad they would even consider that they wouldn’t want to come see if Jake was okay, which Charles found pretty sweet, if a little terrifying.
They had Salmon back at the 99 in holding, and for a while they’d interrogated him and tried to find out where Jake was (he had stupidly left his phone back at the precinct, leaving Charles with no way to track him) before he’d finally spilled the area in which he and his gang had ditched Jake, leaving Charles and Terry to scour the neighbourhood until they found their friend sitting in alone an alley taking edibles.
They still didn’t know why Jake had taken the drugs- it was a very clear no-go to take the drugs from someone you were trying to bust while on a case, and although Jake had a tendency for running into his cases head-on, usually with a hero complex to boot, he was smart enough that he knew he could call the 99 when it got really bad.
Like when he was forced to take drugs.
Because that was what Charles assumed had happened- Jake wouldn’t take the ketamine on purpose, right?
His friend in question whimpered by his side and squeezed his arm tighter.
“Salmon spilt what happened,” Rosa had said when she, Holt, and Amy had arrived at the hospital ten or fifteen minutes after Jake had been taken into one of the rooms for an examination. Charles wiped his hand on his pants again, disliking the sweatiness of his palms that seemed to occur whenever he was worried.
“And?” He asked nervously. “Was there anything… bad in the edibles? Other than the ketamine?”
Terry stiffened beside him when Charles mentioned the word “bad.” “Bad” could mean anything from highly addictive to life threatening when it came to random drugs taken on a case.
Again- why had Jake taken them?
Charles looked at Rosa, Amy, and Holt expectantly for an answer. Had Salmon forced those drugs on his best friend?
Charles gritted his teeth. How could he? If he had been in this situation, Jake would have-
“He took them on purpose,” Amy whispered, cracking her knuckles.
Rosa clenched her jaw and Holt’s shoulders raised the slightest bit at Amy’s words.
The hospital waiting room wasn’t silent, seeing as the five members of the 99 weren’t the only people there, but it might as well have been. Charles felt like all the sound was muffled as a tense silence fell over him and his friends.
After a few seconds, Amy went to go sit beside him, Holt and Rosa choosing to stay standing nearby.
“Did he say why?” Terry asked, his voice scarily quiet.
There was a moment of silence where Charles wasn’t certain if any of them were going to explain before Holt finally said, “Jacob apparently asked for them about five hours ago.”
“That dickhead wasn’t even offered them,” Rosa hissed, trying (like she always did) to act like the tough one. “He just…”
“Salmon gave him the ketamine edibles right away and Jacob took… quite a few, apparently,” Holt continued, obviously on the verge of a breakdown judging by how his foot was tapping on the floor. “He explained that Jacob was drunk as well, and told him he ‘needed to… get it over with before they can leave me.’ Those were his exact words, according to Salmon.”
“Oh,” Charles spoke, immediately wishing to go back to before he knew why his best friend had taken the drugs. “He wanted to…?”
The question was clear.
Did Jake try to kill himself?
“No,” Amy finally said sternly, turning towards Charles. “He knew that the amount he was taking wasn’t deadly.”
“Then why did he take them?” Terry asked, seemingly begging for an answer that wasn’t what they were all thinking.
“He wants us to get mad at him,” Rosa said, her fist clenched and her head tilted towards the ceiling to avoid eye contact.
“He wants Holt to… I don’t know, fire him, or something,” Amy continued for her when Rosa stopped speaking. “He wants us to ditch him.”
“Why does he think we would ever- Oh.” Terry sat back down quickly from when he had stood up suddenly in a burst of confusion and anger.
“His dad,” Charles whispered, knowing full well everyone already understood that much but needing to say it anyway.
It always came back to his dad.
“So…. what? He thought we would just kick him out of our lives forever because he did something stupid?” Amy asked. “He does stupid things every day! Why would we care now?!”
“We wouldn’t have a choice. He did illegal drugs and has no proof that he did it for any reason other than personal gain,” Holt explained. “He’s going to prison if word gets out why he did this.”
“I’m not letting that fucking happen,” Rosa said through clenched teeth. “I’m going to beat up that Salmon guy until he swears not to tell anyone, and then I’ll beat up Jake so that he can’t plead guilty, and then-”
“Yes, Diaz, we all don’t want this to happen. But we don’t need to use police brutality to achieve this.” Holt spoke quietly so the other people in the waiting room wouldn’t hear. “The court won’t believe Salmon when he tells them that Jacob took the drugs out of his own accord- they’ll think he did it as part of his undercover identity. The only person who can really convince the jury that Peralta is guilty is Jacob himself.”
“Sir, you’re saying you want us all to lie in court?” Charles whisper-shouted. “I mean, anything for Jake, obviously, but is there no other way-”
“I wouldn’t be suggesting this if there was,” Holt replied. “It will be alright- we know that in this case, the person we’re lying for did not do this with malicious intent, which is the reason lying in court is not legal.”
“Huh. That… makes sense, actually,” Terry said, leaning back in his chair. “As long as we know that Jake didn’t do it to harm people or do it out of malicious intent…”
“And we know he’ll never do it again,” Amy said confidently. “Well, maybe he still would, but-”
“But we can just beat up the bad thoughts in his brain and kill his dad,” Rosa interrupted, getting her some weird looks from the other people in the room which she ignored.
“Again, no police brutality, Diaz,” Holt declared. “This will work. We know that Jacob is not a bad person, and we know he was not doing this to cause harm.”
Holt looked towards the direction of the rooms where the patients were (where Jake was), the other members of the squad following his gaze.
“We just need to guarantee that he does not plead guilty in court.”
I have been lying awake in this hospital bed for twenty minutes.
I don’t remember how I got here. I can’t even seem to remember my own name.
It started with a J.
I think.
I know that I’ve been visited by four different people in that time, but I have no clue who they are.
I quickly close my eyes again as the curtain surrounding my bed shifts as someone pulls it open to step in. I’m not sure who they are, and I’m not sure if I can trust them.
“Hi, Jakey,” the mystery person whispered.
Jakey?
Was that it?
Yeah, maybe his name was Jakey.
That was a stupid name.
“I know you can’t hear me right now,” Mystery Person continued- he sounded like a guy.
“But when you do wake up- the doctors said it would be soon!- I just needed to tell you that you don’t need to be scared about… that. It’s okay.”
“Scared about what?” I croak out, opening my eyes. “Who are you?”
Mystery guy- who I was pretty sure I recognized as the shorter man from the alley (wait, when did I remember the alley?)- opened his eyes slightly wider when he realized I was awake.
“Oh! Wait, let me get the nurse.”
I open my mouth to ask more questions, but he’s already gone and no words are coming out.
I don’t know when he comes back with the nurse- I’m already asleep again.
Jake Peralta had been gone from work for a week, and he was, quite frankly, really, really bored.
He had run out of puzzles, watched all the Die Hard films at least six times, and the worst part: his coworkers/friends/family were seemingly ignoring him, for some reason.
(Jake tried to ignore the tiny little part of him (okay, it was a huge part) that told him that he had had this coming).
Charles and Amy were the only ones texting him back, and with Charles it was only the “good morning” and “good night” text every day that he usually sent- although Jake noticed a severe lack of exclamation marks since he’d last seen his best friend- and with Amy it was pretty much just her letting him know that, no, sorry, she couldn’t come over and visit him while he recovered even though she was his girlfriend because she was busy at work.
And yeah, maybe that was it, and everyone was just super busy at work, but Jake had been working as an officer for long enough to know that something was up.
What had he done wrong?
And how could he fix it?
He would talk to them when he got back, obviously, which was hopefully going to be soon, seeing as he’d been feeling better and better and getting more and more of his memories back each day, even though the ones of the day where he’d been forced to take the drugs were still pretty blurry.
Jake was hoping that by the time his trial rolled around next month he would remember it clearly, but he was fairly certain he knew what had happened- he’d been drinking with Salmon when the drug dealer pulled out the ketamine edibles and had forced Jake to eat them to gain his trust before ditching Jake in the middle of nowhere for some strange reason and getting caught a little bit later anyway.
Although his memory was a little wonky, Jake was sure this was what happened- the only other viable option was that he purposefully took the drugs for some other reason (which could get him some time in prison, yes, or at least get him kicked off the force), which just didn’t make sense to Jake.
Thus, he went with his gut, and the more sensible option.
He couldn’t wait to testify against Salmon in his trial. He had a whole bunch of fish puns lined up.
Jake ran the jokes in question through his head again as he sat on his couch, grabbing the remote off his table as his seventh rewatch of Die Hard ended, rewinding it to see some of his favorite scenes again. It sucked that he was off work, and he would definitely rather be solving some awesome case right now with his family, but at least Bruce Willis was here to keep him company, even if the family he was so excited to see again wasn’t.
Speaking of people coming to see him-
“Woah,” Jake said as he almost fell over, feeling lightheaded as he stood up too fast when the doorbell rang. Right. He was still concussed.
He paused the movie and made his way through his apartment to the door, feeling unexpectedly giddy at having a visitor even though it was probably just the mailman, or something like that (not that Jake ever got mail).
The doorbell rang again, the person behind the door seemingly impatient, and some annoyed muffled voices followed and quickly stopped when Jake turned his door handle.
“Ames?”
(It was not the mailman.)
“Wha- Charles? Gina? Captain? Wait, what are you all doing here?”
"We came to visit you, man!” Terry said, allowing himself inside before Jake even replied.
“Yeah, sorry we weren’t here earlier, Jakey!” Charles exclaimed.
“‘M not sorry,” said Gina, her lips pursed in what Jake knew from so many years of being her friend as her “I’m joking” face. “I’m a very busy woman.”
“Anyway, we just wanted you to feel a bit better before coming over to talk to you about-ow!”
“-About how you have so much paperwork to do,” interrupted Rosa, ignoring the whimpering Charles beside her rubbing his arm that she'd punched in pain.
“Oh…kay,” Jake said suspiciously, mostly too excited to finally see his friends and girlfriend to care if there was something secret going on.
He led them to his living room, plopping down on the floor to leave them room on his tiny couch with more than a few grease stains (he really had to clean the place up if he wanted Amy to move i here with him- their plans had been delayed after Florida, but Jake was hoping to ask again soon).
“Hey, Ames, can I get your help with this puzzle? Oh! Do any of you guys want something to eat? Actually wait, I’m not sure if I have any food- do you want something to drink? I have Gatorade!”
“That’s disgusting, Jakey,” Charles said, shaking his head and grimacing.
“Can’t believe I’m agreeing with Charles, but yeah, ew,” Gina said as Holt winced.
“We really need to speak about your unhealthy eating habits, Jacob.”
“Right?!” Amy said beside the Captain, smirking at Jake as he playfully stuck his tongue out at her.
“Hey! I’ve been injured! Why am I being personally attacked in my own home? Is this what you guys came to say?” He joked, noticing immediately how his family’s faces dropped when he brought up their reason for visit.
“Um… So! Any updates from that Salmon guy?” Jake said, grinning as he attempted to lift people’s spirits. “God, I can’t believe I took drugs for that guy just for him to get caught anyway a couple hours later.”
“Yeah. About that,” Rosa said, crossing her arms across her chest. “Do you remember anything about that night, dude?”
Jake pressed his lips together into a thin line and shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. Why?”
“Who’s gonna tell him…?” Gina said, looking around from where she was leaning her elbows on the back of the couch.
“Tell me what?” Jake asked as Terry and Charles awkwardly looked anywhere but him and Rosa and Amy opened their mouths as if they were going to say something. Jake tilted his head in confusion as he waited for a response, but Rosa sighed and looked down and Amy just moved down to sit next to Jake and lean on his shoulder.
In the end, it was Holt who gave Jake a clear answer.
“Peralta… You took the drugs from Salmon purposefully.”
Jake blinked a few times at his Captain’s words, shocked, before bursting out into laughter.
“W-what?” He said shakily between laughs. “Captain, I thought you were incapable of making jokes.”
“He’s not joking, man,” Terry said. “You specifically asked Salmon for the drugs.”
Jake smiled in confusion, still not believing this wasn’t just an elaborate trick. “That makes no sense, Ter-Bear. Why would I do that?”
“We were hoping you could tell us, babe,” Amy said softly beside him.
“I don’t- I don’t know why I would- are you sure?”
"Here,” Rosa said instead of answering his question as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pink bag. “From the evidence lockup. It’s supposed to help you remember.”
“Right,” Jake said, taking the bag from her and uncurling the top. “Guys, I gotta be honest with you- this joke isn’t funny. It’s pretty boring, actually, I could come up with a much better- oh. Shit.” Jake placed the bag down gently as he held up one of the gummy bears inside it near his face.
Except these weren’t gummy bears, were they?
“I think I remember now.”
“You got the stuff, Salmon?”
“You know it, Lewe. Still surprised you’re up for trying this shit. You strike me as more of a pussy than that, I won’t lie.”
“Shuddup and gimme the drugs, Patrish.”
“Okay, okay, chill. Here.”
“Thanks.”
“Why do you want that shit, anyways? The alcohol not working enough?”
"Alcohol's not illegal, Sam. I wanna go to jail for a looooooong time, heh.”
“Funny. Never heard anyone say that before. Who you running from?”
“No one. I just need to get it over with before they can leave me. Like everyone does.”
“Quit the trauma-dumping, Lewe. No one asked for that. Just a fair warning, that shit doesn’t mix well with alcohol.”
“What does mix well with alcohol?”
“So Salmon told you,” Jake said, not really asking.
It was obvious he had told them. That was why they were here.
To tell him that what he had done was messed up, to send him to prison, or even worse- fire him. Never speak to him again.
That was what he had wanted, wasn’t it?
Get it over with.
“Yup,” Rosa said as a few of the members of the squad nodded, Holt still staying perfectly still as he stared at Jake, his face unreadable (like usual).
Amy hugged Jake’s arm tighter but said nothing. (God, he loved her so much.)
“...I was-”
“Don’t start with that ‘oh, I was drunk’ bullshit, bitch!” Gina exclaimed. “We’re detectives. We will detect.”
“You’re not a detective, Gina,” Terry said.
“And yet I’m smarter than all of you combined,” Gina replied, her sassy tone so Gina that Jake might have laughed if it didn’t feel like his world was flipping upside down.
“I mean, I was drunk…” Jake said.
“Babe.” Amy sat up straight to look her boyfriend in the eyes. “You wanted to get yourself arrested so that we would stop talking to you. I feel like when people are drunk they don’t go there.”
“Yeah, that’s a you thing, Jakey,” Charles agreed, shrugging.
“Quite a terrible plan, by the way,” Holt said. “It was never going to work. And it is honestly a bit insulting that you think so lowly of us.”
“No! That wasn’t what I meant!” Jake exclaimed. “I mean, we’ve established that I was drunk. I obviously don’t actually want to go to jail or get fired or anything.”
“Sure. But you are scared we’ll ditch you,” Rosa deadpanned.
“Uh… No?” Jake said, smiling and trying to ignore the pitying looks from Charles and his girlfriend.
“Good. Then you will testify as innocent in court next month and we can forget this whole thing ever happened,” Holt said, causing Jake to relax for about two seconds before the captain threw in, “Apart from the mandated therapy sessions you will be going to weekly from now on, of course.”
“What!? That’s not fair! I thought you said we were going to forget this ever happened!”
“In the court of law, yes,” Terry explained. “We’re not forgetting this for a long time, Jake.”
“Yeah. And if you ever think like that again, I’m gonna tear out your appendix with a butter knife.”
Jake sighed, accepting this as the best he was going to get. “Thanks, Rosa. Glad to hear it.”
“Yeah, you better be.”
“We’re not gonna leave, Jakey,” Charles said, hopping off the couch to hug his best friend, Amy joining in a second after.
“Never,” she agreed.
“Again- I knew that the whole time,” Jake lied. “Just so we’re clear.”
“Mh-hm, right,” Gina said patronizingly, snapping photos of Jake being trapped in affection as he hissed at her. “Making that my home screen. Hilarious.”
“Charles is right, though,” Terry said, standing up as well. “You’re stuck with us, Jake.”
“Yeah, whether you like it or not,” Rosa said threateningly.
“Agreed,” Holt said. “Quite literally as well, seeing as we work together.”
“Meh. Even if we didn’t, I guess you guys could still come hang out with me,” Jake joked, getting a small smile from even Rosa and Holt.
“Got that on video!” Gina exclaimed. “You’re legally obliged to stick to that.”
“I didn’t sign any contracts, Gina.”
“Legally obliged! Your queen commands it!”