Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The smell of blood, sweat and vomit filled the air. A ringing in his ears. His mind was blank, the only thing he could remember was blacking out on the streets.

What he did not remember, however, was where he was and what had happened. He slowly opened his eyes, his blurred vision did not help much.

As he felt the hard concrete floor pressed against his cheek, he realized that he was tied up. Handcuffs and rope were restraining his hands behind his back.

Jake tried to move his head to look up, but was met with pain. The pain came flooding back into his body with the movement, he let out a low moan in response.

He finally managed to force himself to look up, a man was above him. His blurred vision really did not help in a situation like this.

He flinched as the man violently grabbed his hair and started dragging Jake away from where he woke up, until he hit his head on a metal-like-texture. He groaned, hearing the water in the object.

“Mmh.. where.. who..” Jake forced the words out of his mouth, blinking rapidly as it made his vision less blurry. It did not make him less nauseaos.

“Hmm?” The man softly kicked Jake’s leg. “Don’t you remember?” He genuinely asked, slowly crouching down to Jake’s level.

Jake whimpered, he’d shake his head but… even that slight movement hurt.

“No.” He quickly muttered.

As Jake’s vision got less blurry, he started noticing features of the man. They were somewhat familiar. Short black hair, a ridiculous moustache.

“I see. A person’s mind can have it’s limits, Jake. That’s okay.” If Jake wasn’t in this situation, he would’ve actually found the man to be caring. However, this was someone who probably had hurt him.

“It’s me, the guy you betrayed in prison.”

Prison. Oh god. Not prison. Everything but prison. Jake’s heart rate picked up as soon as the word escaped the other’s mouth. The man must’ve noticed.

“Don’t get so worked up over it, Jakey. You didn’t have to make that deal with that warden…”

Oh no, Jake knew who this was.

“But you did. You could’ve been loyal to me, but here we are. I’m simply doing what I always do. It’s the true—“

No, it couldn’t be, right?

“—Romero way.” Romero spoke, his tone had a hint of playfullness in it. Recognizition noticably hit Jake. He whimpered in response. He didn’t remember what Romero had already done to him. It wasn’t good, was it?

“Well, Jake,” Romero started, “We’re going to have some fun.” He said as he stood up and walked to a corner. He pressed was fiddling with something that Jake couldn’t properly see, he could notice a blinking red light. Romero made his way back to Jake’s side.

“Time to play.” He whispered as he grabbed Jake’s head and forced it into the metal bucket in front of him. Not giving Jake the time to process. As soon as his face was in the bucket, it was met with ice-cold water.

Jake attempted to push himself out, every try was met with Romero pushing him under even more. He let out a panicked scream as he could feel the water entering his lungs. It was cold, he could feel it. He much preferred oxygen.

Romero pulled him out of the water and Jake felt that sweet oxygen enter his lungs instead of water. He whimpered, coughing loudly afterwards. He hated that.

Romero forced him to sit upright and look at the red, blinking light.

“This is what happens when you cross me. He’s been here for a month now, 99th precinct of Brooklyn. You need to do a better job at finding him if you want him alive. Right, Jake?”

Jake was confused. Were Amy and the squad watching? That’s absurd, they would’ve helped him. Right? So, how was Romero talking to them? He tried to focus on the red blinking light, only finding that it’d make him go cross-eyed.

Jake coughed some more, trying to look at Romero. Not that it helped, though. The next thing he knew, his face was pushed into the water once again/

He could’ve sworn he heard Romero laughing like a maniac. Jake wanted to get out of the water, he wanted to breathe again. He’d do anything just to make this stop. He didn’t want to die. He couldn’t die now.

His attempts to escape didn’t help much thanks to the probably-broken-and-bruised-bones in his body. All he could do was scream and inhale the water.

Jake was pulled out once again, this time he was forced onto the floor. He turned around, facing the concrete floor. He opened his mouth, cold, cold water came out of it. He coughed. With every cough, more water escaped his body.

Jake heard a familiar little pop. His eyes widened. No, no, anything but that. It’s not like he could fight it, he was on the ground like an idiotic ragdoll.

The next thing he felt was nothing and everything at the exact same time. His brain turned off, all he could feel was his body tensing up as he heard the sound of a taser behind him. His body was locked in one position, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t do anything and god, it hurt. He couldn’t even scream, he was that pathetic.

As soon as he could move again, he coughed more. He turned, facing Romero as he picked up the bucket and moved it closer to Jake’s face again.

“Please.. please stop. Please.” Jake pleaded, he flinched as Romero suddenly got too close. He looked away, but to no avail. Romero simply grabbed his chin and forced Jake to look at him.

“You’re fucking pathetic, Jake. Look at how broken you truly are.”

“Romero, please.”

“That’s sir to you.” Romero snapped, Jake slowly nodded as he processed that.

“..Sir.” Jake practically spat, “Sir, please. Please. I can’t— I— please stop, please. Just kill me. Please.”

Romero simply let go of his chin and slapped his face, leaving a red mark. “God, you’d really want that?”

“Please.” Jake couldn’t hold back the tears that escaped his eyes, betraying him. “Please, please. I don’t want to feel anymore pain. Please, kill me.”

Pathetic.

It was a goddamn miracle that Jake wasn’t on his knees right now. So this is how it felt. Defeat. He’d want to live if it wasn’t for the fact that he apparantly had been here for a month already. He couldn’t even remember that.

Pathetic, really.

Always the victim, never the hero. He’d have to be saved again. Just like the time that his dad left, practically saving Jake. Just like the time where Hoytsman had kidnapped him. Just like the time where his dad was back and drunk, hitting him, beating him. Just like the time in prison.

When was he truly brave? Certainly not right now. He was begging someone to put a bullet through his head. That’s not heroic or brave. That’s pathetic.

“You won’t die, Jake. The only thing I want from you, is you wishing that you could.” Romero spoke, snapping Jake out of his trance.

His head was grabbed and pushed in the water bucket again, Jake stopped fighting it. If only the water could take him and swallow him whole. If only he just died.

Yet, he still screamed and sobbed and choked every time his head was forced under water.

He had deserved this. The pain. The fear. All of it. Didn’t he? He crossed someone. He crossed a leader.

He was fucking worthless and pathetic.

Time moved agonizingly slow. After god-knows-how-many times of being forced under water, Jake was on the ground, panting, on the verge of losing it. He heard Romero’s footsteps dissapear, until he was completely alone.

Jake coughed up water, blood, anything that his body could force out of his mouth.

He noticed that the blinking red light was still on, he looked at it.

He focused on the object, he needed to know what it was.

It was a camera. Romero had filmed all of this, and was still filming him. He knew how perps worked. They’d send this to his family.

Jake didn’t really have family. He had his mum and the precinct.

“It.. it truly isn’t your fault.” He sobbed, kind of choking on the sob as he spoke. “I don’t— I don’t remember anything from the past.. uh.. month. I do remember the pain.”

“All I know is that I must be really pathetic. I must be— I must be really worthless if I got into this scenario and still haven’t escaped.” He continued, trying to hold himself together through all the self loathing. It felt like piecing together a puzzle, but with all the puzzle pieces already broken.

“I’m really sorry— I’m really sorry if I’m already dead when you guys find me. Just know that I— that I probably— I was okay with it.”

Acknowledging that feeling and saying it out loud was the final thing that completely scrambled the broken pieces of the stupid puzzle.

He simply stared at the camera, trying to find the words.

“I love you guys. Ames, please tell our kiddo.. uh.. epic stories about me.” He whispered, as soon as he finished his sentence he lost all power in his body. He was exhausted. He laid down. Maybe, maybe if he closed his eyes he’d feel better. Yeah.. Maybe. So he did close his eyes, the black took him and swallowed him whole.

Chapter Text

It has been too long. For too long has Jake been tormented and messed with. His brain felt like a mushy mess, trying to keep itself together. His days consisted of either being tortured, isolated or knocked-out. Jake tended to rest for a long time after a torture session, at least, that’s what Romero constantly told him.

He missed his family. No, not his father. Kind of his mother, but even she could be neglectful at times.

The ones he truly missed were the squad. The Nine-Nine. Them. They were what kept Jake going before this, he tried to let them be the reason to keep going now.

Some days were harder than others, sometimes he’d dream about being back with his family. Then, he’d wake up and scream with even more agony than before.

Jake Peralta had slowly lost his uplifting spirit. Jake Peralta was slowly losing himself. Jake Peralta was stuck between wanting to live and wanting to die.

Jake Peralta was pathetic and weak.

—

Jake heard the door opening, slow-paced footsteps following as the door shut closed. He didn’t make the mistake of looking up to see if he was being saved, he figured that such things would just fill him with hope. Ruined hope was worse than any sort of torture. So, he kept his head hung as he was leaning against the wall.

Romero had loosened up a bit, letting Jake be able to move freely when he wasn’t being… ‘played with’. Jake was always moved and tossed around to fit into Romero’s fantasies. Which meant that the restraints would always differentiate.

“Hi, Jakey. How are you holdin’ up?” Romero finally broke the silence. Jake bit his lip, not wanting to reply. Not wanting to give the monster the satisfaction.

“Okay then, don’t talk. Fucking bitch.” Romero snarled, pausing after to take a breath. “Do you remember the session we had last week? Do you remember anything before that?” He asked. Jake finally looked up at Romero, was he not here to harm him?

“I–” Jake started, coughing. The constant pain and screaming wasn’t good for his voice at all. “I remember. Don’t remember before. Only afterwards.” He spoke, trying to avoid using a lot of words. He barely could speak, so why would he force himself to do so?

“Right. That’s good.” Romero answered, he let out a sigh. Jake would’ve normally raised a brow in confusion but… even that would probably hurt. He didn’t want to try. “Ugh. Why are you so fuckin’ pathetic? Couldn’t you just not forget?”

“I don’t know, couldn’t you just not kidnap and torture me?” Jake shot back, immediately regretting it afterwards. His face was met with Romero’s fist. He gasped, but kept his head up high. If he was going to get punched, he would want to deserve it. Maybe, just maybe, Romero would kill him out of frustration.

“Just in case you’ve forgotten, I don’t like it when you talk back.” Romero exclaimed. “Watch your fuckin’ words, Peralta.”

“You’re a coward, Romero.” Jake spoke, if he could yell, he would’ve been yelling now. He looked at Romero, staring straight into his eyes.

“Says you.” Romero spoke, maintaining his cocky calmness. Oh, how Jake would like to torture him someday. “Don’t get all feisty with me, you don’t even remember everything.”

Jake swallowed, he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to think. He kept staring into Romero’s eyes. Something changed in them, you could describe it as if they hardened.

“I’m isolating you for a week. Let’s see how you’ll use that pretty little mouth of yours afterwards, shall we?” Romero smiled as he spoke. That sick fucking smile twisted Jake’s stomach even more. Romero stepped back, slowly but surely. If only Jake could just stand up and fight. If only his body allowed him to.

Jake opened his mouth to say something, but it was too late. Romero had already exited the room. He was alone. He was alone. He was alone. He was alone.

At first, he noted how comforting the silence felt. The fact that he could just be at peace now was comforting. He took a deep breath. Peace. Peace. Peace. Amy. Charles. Captain Holt. Rosa. Terry. Gina. The Nine-Nine.

He closed his eyes, slowly exhaling. As he exhaled, he realized where he was again.

A shitty torture basement. That’s where he was trapped. Right. Trapped.

—

DAY 1

Jake had managed to get up the day before, it hurt like hell. Yet, he figured that it might be better to try to move again. Just in case he could make his escape.

Even though he had probably broken a couple of bones. Oh well, shit happens.

He was pacing around the room. Well, not per-say pacing. More like limping and crashing into the nearest wall every now and then. He had to learn. He was a little kid that had to learn how to walk.

A little kid.

His kid. Amy. Jake and Amy. Amy was pregnant. Amy. Jake stood still, looking around the room and trying his best not to fall into a goddamn wall again because if he did he–

He missed everyone in his little family, but he surely missed Amy and his unborn kid the most. What if he wasn’t going to be there for the birth? No, what if he wasn’t going to be there at all. What if?

Would his child think that they must have had a deadbeat dad, just like Jake thought of his father? Would his worst dreams come true?

Jake had never wanted to be a father until he fell in love with Amy. He hated the thought of fatherhood. Not because he hated children, but because he hated himself and his father more.

His father. Roger.

Jake couldn’t stop himself from crashing into the wall as Roger came to the forefront of his imagination. A yelling, drunk, abusive dad. That’s what Roger had always been to him.

“It’s all your fault!” Roger would yell, making sure Jake knew that it was all his fault. It was all his fault. It was all his fault.

Jake fell onto the floor, slouching against the very same wall he previously crashed into.

If it was all his fault back then, it must be his fault this time as well. How stupid was he, really? To let himself be kidnapped, tortured and isolated like this? When he has a family? When he finally has people who are supposed to care about him?

But, did they really care? Did they? Because Jake couldn’t tell. If they cared, they would’ve found him by now, right?

No one really ever cared about him, why would this time be any different?

Oh, he couldn’t breathe.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Focus on your breathing, Jake. Calm down.

—

DAY 4

He was alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

He hadn’t moved from the wall ever since he had crashed into it. Too much effort, especially for someone like him. A weak and pathetic excuse of a man.

Weak, pathetic, weak, pathetic, weak, pathetic.

He felt random pains everywhere, but he constantly had a headache. He didn’t know why. Oh, well.

“Hey, Jakey.” Jake heard, his head shot up at the noise. In front of him stood Charles Boyle. Jake gave him a lopsided smile. “How are you holding up? You’re still stuck in this place?”

Jake nodded, still smiling like a fool. If there was one thing Jake Peralta was good at, it was being a fool.

“We’re leaving you here to die on purpose.” Another voice joined in, it was Rosa’s voice. Jake saw her standing next to Charles, who was now crouched down to Jake’s level. “Huh?” Jake forced out, feeling a little bit confused.

“Jake. You’re pathetic and weak.” One more voice joined in. Terry. That was Terry, who now also walked up to Charles and Rosa.

“Just in case you’ve forgotten, I don’t like it when you talk back.” Captain Holt joined in. “Watch your fucking mouth, Peralta.”

Jake opened his mouth to say something, but yet another voice interrupted him. “Ugh, why are you so fucking pathetic?” Gina exclaimed, causing Jake to flinch.

A person pushed them all away, Jake blinked a couple of times to properly see them. His blurry vision didn’t help, as this person simply did not speak.

“You’re going to be alone for a week. Let’s see how you use that pretty little mouth of yours afterwards.” The person spoke. Amy. Amy just told him this.

All of the people who looked just like the Nine-Nine crouched down to Jake’s level. They were here, but not to save him. To make fun of him.

“You’re fucking weak and pathetic, Peralta.” They all said, at the exact same time.
Jake felt a wetness on his cheek, he gasped.

He blinked.

They were gone.

He was going mad.

He was alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone.

Alone.

Chapter Text

It had been exactly 1 month, 7 days and 17 hours since Amy Santiago saw Jake Peralta for the last time. She still remembered how he left that day, looking excited yet wary. Looking as if he knew something was coming for him. He had asked about gut-feelings at the table while they were eating breakfast as well. She should’ve seen the signs. It was her fault.

“Ames, I’ve got a bad feeling about work today. Should we call in sick and watch Die-Hard?” He had asked her.

“No! We need to go, we’d disappoint Holt if we didn’t.” She had replied. If only they had disappointed Holt. If only she had just listened to his gut.

But, now there was really no going back. He was gone for way too long, and Amy didn’t know what to do about it.

“-my? We’ve got a status update on Jake.” A familiar voice snapped Amy out of her thoughts. She blinked. She was in the breakroom, hanging over her coffee. Her eyes shot up. Rosa. Rosa stood beside her.

“Huh?” Amy looked visibly confused, she had been lost in rewinding time again. Great.

Rosa looked at the floor, before her eyes met Amy’s again. “We’ve got a status update on Jake. I heard that it’s not good.” She bluntly stated, “Captain wants us to meet in the briefing room in five. He told me to get you.”

“Oh,” Amy simply replied, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. “I– well, is he okay?”

Rosa simply looked away as the question was asked, she opened her mouth as if she was about to say something. Yet, she closed it again, as if she was thinking.

“I’ll see you in the briefing room, Santiago.” Rosa spoke, before walking out of the room.

Amy blinked. Alright then.

–

Upon entering the briefing-room, Amy noticed that multiple people were staring at her. She simply shrugged it off. It must be because she’s his wife. They’re worried for her. That’s nice.

She took a seat next to Rosa, trying to work up the courage to ask for anything. Any clue as to what was about to be said. She simply stared at the other, trying to fill her mind with useful thoughts. Yet all she could think about was the worst case scenario’s.

Because what if he is dead? What if this is Holt telling them all that their beloved colleague, friend and husband has passed?

He wouldn’t do that… Right?

“May I have your attention, everyone?” Holt’s familiar voice snapped Amy out of her thoughts. She shifted her gaze from Rosa to Holt.

Please, be alive.

Amy looked at Holt, trying to read the beloved captain. Yet, she couldn’t read shit. His expression was as neutral as can be. Fuck. What if this was gonna be bad?

She didn’t even acknowledge that the entire room finally fell silent until a few moments after, something that she loved before.

“We have-” He cleared his throat, “We have been emailed by an unknown sender. I have opened the email, it contains graphic footage of Detective Peralta being tortured.”

It contains graphic footage of detective Peralta being tortured.

Graphic footage. Detective Peralta. Tortured.

She heard a gasp coming from behind her, where Charles was sat.

Amy froze up, she didn’t even notice the comforting hand that Rosa had placed on her shoulder. Amy couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.

“Now, everyone except for detective Diaz, detective Boyle and the lieutenant may continue with their work. I need to have a chat with these three.

“What about me?” Amy hadn’t even noticed that she exclaimed that until after she did.

Holt’s eyes fell on Amy, she could see a hint of empathy in those eyes. “You may return to your work, Santiago.”

“That’s– no. No, this is about Jake. I deserve to know.” Amy was now yelling, she stood up. “My– he’s being tortured, Ray! Please.”

She was serious now.

Holt calmly exhaled, trying to maintain his composure. He waited until it was only Terry, Charles, Rosa and Amy in the room. “I was going to show them the footage, to help me with trying to figure out if Jake left any clues, Amy.” He explained.
“I’ll stay. I’ll help. I’d notice anything.” Amy argued. Holt looked at Terry.

“Fine.” He spoke. He then straightened up, letting out one last sigh. Was Holt nervous?

“Detectives, I know this is a close friend of yours. Please, treat this as any case. I need all of you on high alert.” He paused, “If any of you feel the need to leave the room during this recording, feel free to do so.”

Amy sat back down again, she looked at Rosa. For the first time in a long time, Rosa looked somewhat nervous. She couldn’t blame her.

She looked at the screen. The video started.

On the screen was a bloody Jake, his nose looked broken. His chest was exposed, showing the letters ‘S’, ‘N’, ‘I’, ‘T’, ‘C’, ‘H’ on it. Her gaze moved over to his eyes. They looked different, they looked as if he was a trapped animal. He was lying on the ground, his hands tied behind his back.

“Jakey, Jakey, Jakey.” A male voice spoke, she could once again hear Charles gasp.

“You doin’ good?” The voice asked, Jake looked away from the camera, presumably at his captor. “No, what the hell did you think I was gonna sa-”

Jake’s body tensed up, a little black object came into frame. His captor laughed as Jake was clenching his teeth, unable to move. After a little bit, the male put the object away.

“You fu-” Jake coughed, “You bitch.”

Amy finally managed to take her eyes off of the screen. She looked at Captain Holt. He looked tense, very tense. Nearly angry. Rightfully so, though.

She then moved her gaze to Rosa, who was fiddling with her own hair without even noticing. She then looked back to see Boyle, fully bawling his eyes out. Terry had already left.

“Language, kid.” That voice sounded so familiar to Amy. She didn’t know where it came from, but she thought she had heard that voice before. Back when they were seperat-

“Right, let’s show your friends what we do with traitors, and– well, snitches!” The man laughed, giddy as can be.

The man walked into frame, holding a wooden plank. “This’ll do, won’t it, buddy?”

Jake looked up at his captor, making an animalistic sound. It almost sounded as if he was growling. Amy simply stared at the screen.
“How long have you been here, bud?” The man asked Jake, Jake looked straight at the camera. As if he didn’t want to look at his captor. Again, rightfully so. “Four weeks. I think.” Jake quickly replied.

“Correct!” At that point, the man started beating Jake with the board. Hitting again, again and again. Charles was the next to run out of the room, saying that he had an ‘emergency meeting’ in the bathroom. Amy couldn’t hold back tears at this point, as she heard her husband yell and scream and make sounds that she didn’t even know that he could make.

Yet, he never actually begged. He never gave his captor the satisfaction. As if he was either extremely brave or putting on a brave face for the camera.

As the man stopped beating Jake with the board, something had changed in how Jake was lying down on the floor. He opened his eyes again, and those eyes had softened.

Then, a cut in the video. A cut to a little while later, Amy had assumed.

Jake was screaming into a bucket, Amy could see the lower half of his captor’s face. She focused on that instead of focusing on Jake’s screaming.

She looked at it. It showed a ridiculous moustache. At the same time, Rosa and Amy yelled out the same thing.

“Stop the video!”

Holt paused it, looking pained yet confused. “It shows the guy’s lower face. Look.” Rosa spoke.

The Captain looked. “That is a moustache.” He paused, “I will take a screen photo of this later.”

As the video continued, Amy tried to see any familiar appearance traits. Yet, she could find none.

Between being tased again, and being completely left alone, there was a weird cut. Maybe it exposed something?

Eventually, after the man had left, Jake acknowledged the camera again. He seemed to be rather confused at the sight. But, didn’t he talk to the camera a while ago?

“It.. it truly isn’t your fault.” Amy started crying as soon as Jake also sobbed, she could’ve sworn that she heard a noise coming from Rosa as well. “I don’t— I don’t remember anything from the past.. uh.. month. I do remember the pain.”

“All I know is that I must be really pathetic. I must be— I must be really worthless if I got into this scenario and still haven’t escaped.” Amy stood up, wanting to walk away. But, she couldn’t. She looked at Rosa, who was looking down as to hide her own face. Holt also looked away. Everyone looked away from what was happening, everyone except for Amy.

“I’m really sorry— I’m really sorry if I’m already dead when you guys find me. Just know that I— that I probably— I was okay with it.”

“No, please–” Amy whimpered, “Amy–” Rosa looked up, grabbing onto Amy’s wrist as to try to comfort her while also comforting herself.

“I love you guys. Ames, please tell our kid.. uh.. epic stories about me.”

That’s where the video ended, and that’s what completely broke Amy down.

Rosa was never comfortable with hugs, but this was the first time she had stood up and hugged another person. That other person being Amy, as she sobbed into Rosa’s shoulder.

She could hear little crying noises coming from Rosa as well, yet refused to acknowledge those.

Holt was now sitting on a table with crossed arms. He didn’t know what to do, and that was clear to her.

“We’re getting that fucker.” Rosa spoke, out loud. She finally let go of Amy, wiping away the wetness on her cheeks.

“We are getting Jake back.” The Captain joined in. Amy felt as if she was expected to join in on this team-moment. Yet, she couldn’t. She just wanted everything to go back to normal.

“The voice felt familiar.” She finally spoke, refusing to build up hope. “I’ve heard it before… when Jake was in prison he–.. I can’t fucking, ugh. I can’t seem to think of anyone. But, he’s familiar.” She rambled.

Rosa looked away, then looked back up at Amy. “I don’t know what happened to Jake in prison. She sat down on her table as well, Amy copied the movement to seem calm and normal. “Do you, captain?”

“Hm. I did receive some files on what Jake had been through in prison.” Holt paused, as if he was thinking. “I might be able to find something in those files. Amy?”

She thought of the word ‘snitch’ on Jake’s chest. Well, he wasn’t a snitch. Unless–

“Didn’t he get into a fight with this one guy– in the prison?” Amy spoke, she remembered the calls they had. Sometimes another guy would get into Jake’s cell, a guy with a threatening voice. A guy who seemed to pose a threat. A guy with a voice which was familiar to the man’s on the video. Finally, something clicked in Amy’s head.

“I think I know who did this.”

Chapter Text

Of all the things Jake despised, being alone was on the top of that list. Jake was put on this world to be the funny one, the social butterfly who cracked jokes when things got a little too serious. When he was little, he would often walk into the room when his mother was crying. He would sit next to her and talk about everything except his dad. He cracked jokes about her favorite actor, her family. Whatever he could do to cheer his mother up.

The first time he saw his father hit his mother, he had made a vow to himself. He vowed to be the one to take the blows for his mom. She deserved better, and he was a strong little boy. He never wanted to see his mom cry over another man, ever again.

And so he did. He took every single hit, every single time his father was angry at his mother, he’d jump in and try to direct the anger at him.

Every blow he took from Romero reminded him of the scars that his father had already given him as a young boy. Every time he wanted to die and beg for a bullet from that wonderful gun of Romero’s, he’d try to remind himself that he went through abuse once.

He could take this. As long as they wouldn’t take the ones he loved. He could take this for them.

But, the deprivation of any blow. Of any sort of human contact for what seemed like forever, made Jake realize that maybe he couldn’t take this again. Maybe this was what he needed to finally snap. Maybe, giving up wasn’t such a bad thing to do.

He leaned against the wall, the furthest away from the door. The room was fairly big, as Jake had noticed that Romero liked to have a big stage. Yet, every day he felt as if the room kept getting smaller. The room was teasing and taunting him.

It had been too long. Was it really that hard to find him here? Or did everyone in the outside world just… forget about him? Was he too annoying? He should’ve worn a tie every single day. Should’ve bought Amy flowers every single day.

He was all out of tears. He was all out of hope. He was running out of his humanity. He felt like an animal, trapped in a cage that was never meant to be his.

He heard a door open, somehow, he found himself smiling at it.

“Hey, Jakey.” A familiar voice started, he stepped into the room. “Did you miss me?”

The man stepped into the room, into the light. Romero. It was Romero. Yet, even with that information, Jake found himself to be happy at this.

“Ro–” Jake tried to speak, but realized that he shouldn’t piss his captor off anymore. God, he needed some kind of confirmation that he was human. “Sir.” He quickly corrected.
Even Romero smiled at this. Did he do a good job?

“Yes, sir– I did.” Jake said, as Romero moved closer to him. Jake had to force himself not to flinch, or to try to run away.

At this point, he’d rather take any blow– or drown, than be alone again.

“Good.” Romero said, “You learned your lesson.”

Romero was now stood right in front of Jake, Jake was still sat on the ground, still leaning against the wall. He was completely cornered by his captor. Yet, he did not even seem to mind.

Romero lowered his hand to Jake’s head, Jake flinched but–

Romero was petting him.

Somehow, this sort of confirmation– this sort of praise felt amazing. For once, he wasn’t being hit. For once, he was being comforted.

A few weeks ago, he would’ve fought back, would’ve moved his head… but, why even try?

“See, Jakey. We can be friends.” Romero spoke, calmly. He kneeled to Jake’s level. “I hate you, I really do. You’re a pig, but…”

Romero continued to pet Jake with one hand, lifting his chin with the other. “We can be real buddies if you’re good. I’ll even think about letting you live and join us… But, you’ve got to show me that you’re, well, tough.”

And with that, he stopped petting Jake. Jake found himself whimpering at this. Any sort of physical touch was what he needed, but he could only get a limited dose of that after all. Romero slapped Jake’s cheek, letting go of his chin. Jake just wanted his attention, anything for his attention.

“Well, let’s continue where we left off, alright?”

–

A few days later, Amy was sitting in the briefing room with Rosa, Holt, Charles and Terry. She was holding Jeff Romero’s files.

This should help. If these files told them he had broken out of prison around the time that Jake was kidnapped, her theory would be proven correct.

She so desperately wanted– no, needed to be right about this.
She let out a sigh, placed the files on the table and opened them up.

In the file, she found the crimes Jeff had committed to get into the prison. First degree murder, grand auto theft, manslaughter, illegal possessions of firearms, drug trafficking and drug possession.

Well, that’s a lot of crimes.

She scanned all the pages, reading as fast as she could. It was like the world around her was put on hold, it was just her and the pages inside this file.

She read one of the last pages in the file.

Suspect broke out of Jericho Supermax Prison on the 13th of October at approximately 00:51 AM.

Amy’s gut was most likely right. He hadn’t been caught yet, and Jake had been panicky since Halloween–...

“He broke out of jail.” Amy started, earning a dramatic gasp from Charles. “I’m sure. It must be him.”

–

“Good job, Jakey.” Romero smiled proudly at Jake, as he was coughing up blood on the floor. Another kick to the stomach caused Jake to roll over and cough. He kept quiet, however. He didn’t want to upset Romero. Yet, the stars that appeared in front of his eyes really wanted him to scream and pass out.

Romero grabbed Jake’s hair, pulling his face up. “Stay conscious. It’s no fun when you pass out.”

Fun. Right, this was supposed to be fun. In some sort of twisted, sick way, Jake did find this attention fun. He needed it.

All he was ever useful for was to be someone’s punching bag. Nothing had truly changed.

–

The first raid had failed. Romero wasn’t staying there, and they went back to the precinct empty-handed. Multiple raids followed, yet neither Romero nor Jake were ever found during those.

Amy was, to put it nicely, losing her shit. In just a few weeks, she wouldn’t be allowed to help with the raids or sting operations. Everytime she thought of that, she could feel her throat close up. She needed to be there when they found Jake. Especially after not seeing him for months.

Amy was sitting behind her desk when Holt walked over to her, with a fresh brewed cup of coffee. Before all of this, she would have preferred water. Yet, now she highly preferred coffee. She could barely sleep at night, so this would have to do.

She took the coffee, muttering a ‘thank you’. Holt sat down in Jake’s chair, which stung a bit. Though, she said nothing.

“We are trying one more location, after that, we will have to start from scratch.” Holt quickly stated. His voice was more monotone than usual, Amy noted that he was probably trying to mask his emotions. Amy didn’t blame him. She simply nodded.

“That’s okay.” She said, “That’s fine. We’ll never know if we don’t try.”

“That is a good mindset, Santiago.” He paused, standing up again. “We will be raiding the place tomorrow. Be here on time for the briefing.” Holt said, before hastily making his way to his office.

Amy felt a silly feeling inside her chest. Something that resembled hope. She quickly attempted to bury down that feeling. She couldn’t feel hope. She’d only disappoint herself.

Chapter Text

It was early in the morning, about 5 AM. Amy couldn’t stay asleep much longer. Jake was still out there, and she had to be at the station.

Even though she couldn’t participate in the raid anymore due to being pregnant, she would be at the station and hope. Pray to a god she doesn’t even believe in, in order for her beloved husband to be found.

She lay on the bed, her hands rested on her belly now. She would never dare to resent a child, but somehow she felt a bit bitter towards the one inside of her. If only she could just be there as they kicked down the doors and found him.

If only she could kill the asshole that took the love of her life and say that it was necessary.

“No, that’s messed up.” Amy said to herself out loud, realizing that her thoughts were taking a really dark route. She was supposed to be the saint, the one that followed all the rules.

So why did she really feel like breaking them all for him?

—

6 AM. Amy was fully dressed and already at the precinct. She decided to take a cab, she felt unsafe without Jake holding her hand. Walking wasn’t an option, no.

She had generously tipped the cab driver and sprinted into the precinct. Being outside around here without him always felt so wrong. She walked into the elevator and pressed the button that would lead to the floor where the main squad was located.

It was quiet inside, as if the world was standing still for once. As if this was the calm before the storm that was inevitably coming.

“Amy?” Amy’s head shot up, Holt stood next to her in the elevator. She hadn’t even noticed him stepping into it. “Captain,” Amy started, she cleared her throat. “I didn’t notice you, sorry.”

“It is all right.” Holt spoke, monotone. “You are aware that you are not needed today, right?”

Amy sighed, of course Holt would remind her. “I want to be here if he’s found.” Amy stated as the elevator doors closed. “Sir, are you sure you don’t need me near? I can sit in an undercov—“

“No, Amy. We are dealing with dangerous people. I do not want you to risk yourself and the child.” Holt interrupted her.

Amy broke eye contact, her gaze dropping back to the floor. “Oh,” she paused, she couldn’t even hold it in. Her eyes started watering, and before she knew it tears were falling down her cheeks.

“Amy?” Raymond was still looking at the sargeant. He didn’t know how to deal with emotional people, he barely knew how to deal with his own emotions.

Amy, on the other hand, knew what she needed. She turned to Holt and gave him a hug.

Raymond flinched as he was suddenly embraced, but embraced the embrace. He secretly needed it too, so he hugged her back.

—

“Good morning, Jakey.” Romero chirped, happy and well-rested.

Jake was up all night due to a loud beeping noise which was playing in the room. It was a punishment for ‘crying like a little bitch’.

Jake groaned, somehow glad to see Romero again.

He won’t cry, he won’t do anything that pisses his captor off. He’ll be good, he’ll be good.

“Remind me, how long have you been here now?”

Oh.

There was an outside of this square room. Right. He had forgot.

Jake shrugged, he couldn’t talk a lot. It would only hurt him more.

“I’ll tell you, like I always have to…” Romero paused, taking a few steps closer to Jake. “You need me in this world, without me, you’d die, probably.”

Jake looked up at his captor, still leaning against the wall. He was hungry, thirsty and sleepy. He’d kill to sleep in an actual bed and eat actual food.

“You’ve been here for two months and four days.”

Most kidnapped people would be found dead if they weren’t found after 48 hours. So, Jake was definitely screwed.

It wasn’t like he felt as if he was still alive. He felt as if he had already died halfway through, and his body was just being a hollow puppet.

“That’s a lot, isn’t it?”

Romero stopped, visibly pausing to say something else.

“Do you still want to live, Jakey?”

Jake stared in front of him, not even pausing or looking up at his captor. “No.”

—

Rosa was quite confused, the time for this raid was unusual. It was already morning, after all. All the other raids took place between one and four A.M.

The other thing that threw her off was that Amy wasn’t even here with her in this crappy undercover van.

Rosa was all geared up, ready to kick these criminal’s asses and save Jake if he were to be there.

She hated this, all of this. It could’ve easily been avoided if they had never even gone to prison in the first place. Stupid butterfly effect.

The van came to a halt, she finally snapped out of her thoughts. She looked up, and gave Terry a nod before running out of the van with the rest of the squad.

—

“Fuck!” Jake screamed, as his arm was twisted in ways he didn’t even know it could twist behind his back.

A sinister laugh behind his back said enough, there was never going to be any sincere remorse from Romero. One day, he’d be nice and give him food. The other day, he’d degrade Jake and give him shit.

Yet, all of a sudden, Romero let go of him. Jake slumped into the chair he was tied on. He groaned, glad to get some rest in between the sheer torture.

Romero stepped in front of Jake and pulled out his phone, he never did that. Jake didn’t bother to think too much about it, though. It was never worth it.

He let his head fall down, waiting for Romero to continue so he could feel something at the very least.

Oh, how he wanted to dig his own grave and die right about now.

Romero looked down at Jake, the latter didn’t bother to look up. However, Romero pulled out his gun.

And at that moment…

The door that Romero had walked through many, many times was kicked down.

“NYPD, put your hands where I can see them!” Jake heard a familiar voice yell, he couldn’t place who it was. He didn’t look up to see who it was. He was still asleep. This was just a shitty dream in order to give him this thing we call hope.

“Ah, took you long enough.” Romero exclaimed. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream. It’s just, a dream.

“Place the gun on the ground, and nothing will happen, Romero.” A voice from across the room spoke.

Romero took a few steps forward, gun still in hand. With that, both of his legs were shot. Romero screamed, falling to the ground.

At that, Jake did look up. His vision was blurred, he only saw something that looked like people across the room. He couldn’t place who they were at all.

This wasn’t real after all.

“Jake!” He heard a deeper voice yell, two figures approached him. While another figure was on top of another figure. As they got closer, he could see clearly.

Rosa and Holt were right in front of him. Oh, how the mind can play tricks on itself.

“Jake, we’re here— Rosa, cut his restraints.”

“I’m— yeah, on it.” Jake heard a tremble in Rosa’s voice, which never happened.

See, this isn’t real. You’re asleep.

“Jake? Are you able to speak?”

Why would he waste his energy on a dumb dream that gave him false hope?

“Jacob?”

Jake hesitated, before asking; “..Are you real?”

Shortly after, his restrains were cut, and he could move freely. Yet, he was still slumped in the chair.

“Yes, Jacob. We are.”

With that, a tear escaped from his eyes. His restraints were cut loose, which caused him to slump even further in the chair.

“Are you able to stand?” Asked Rosa.

Jake shook his hand in response.

Black was clouding his vision, causing him to see less and less, until everything went to black. Everything became numb, and Rosa and Holt and the room and the chair and the pain and the blurry figures all disappeared.

It was just him and the silence. For once in months, he could be content with that.