Summary: So what annoyed me ever so slightly in the episode is that when Jake headbutted Hoytsman and tried to escape, Hoytsman didn't retaliate – so here's my version of events!
Just as Geoffrey took a sniff of the powdered white remedy, Jake caught his attention, "Hoytsman," and as soon as he looked up, Jake slammed his head against the druggies nose.
Hoytsman called out in pain, "Oh God!" he cried, "That's my nose! That's where I put the drugs in!" He gestured to his bruised face, but before he could continue Jake smashed his head once again in the same spot to fend away Hoytsman.
As the older man fell backwards in the ice cream truck, Jake smirked slightly as he pushed himself against the back of the van, "So long, Hoytsman!" he cheered himself ready for his awesome full proof plan to play out. Except his plan did not go any further as Hoytsman fired his gun.
Pain seared its way through Jake's leg as the bullet collided into his shin's bone. Despite his best wished, Jake cried out as pain erupted and travelled up through his spine. He thought he was going to blackout from the burning agony that was becoming. He took several shaky breaths, choking back sobs, his nails clawing the metal of the chair's arms in an attempt to keep his screams back. He breathed hard, his vision blurring in and out before he realised Hoytsman was talking.
"You know, Jake, I didn't want to do it this way. But then you had to go ahead and," he searched for the word, "Gonked me on the nose! Twice!" The drugged-up man took a moment to inhale some substance atop of the small fridge. "Oooo, good stuff!" Geoffrey grinned satisfied with his intake, "Do you want some? Kidding, of course," he chuckled to himself rolling his eyes as if he imagined Peralta had said yes.
Jake was clenching his jaw as to not cry out, with an unsteady head the young detective looked up and faced Hoytsman. The grey-haired man had white powder stretched across his nose, resting above his lips. He could feel himself sweating from his injury; Peralta peered down for a moment, his jean was trickling blood toward the floor, he could feel the bullet still against his bone. He felt sick. "What's the plan… when you kill me?" Jake breathed hard.
Hoytsman rubbed his chin for a moment, tapping his index finger against his mouth, "Not sure," he admitted, "Miami?" He thought aloud.
"The Nine-nine would easily prove it was set up," the confession, "you'd be wanted for killing a detective," Jake threatened, his head spinning.
Hoystman laughed, "Sure, sure," he chuckled, "A detective with a lot of drugs in his urine test," Hoytsman leaned close to the detective a sudden sullen look on his face, "You're a disgrace to the NYPD. You said to me earlier," he pressed the gun against Jake's chest, cocking it, "that you pushed all your friends away, doubt they'll be saving you anytime soon," he smirked maliciously, his other hand pushing Jake's head back against the van doors, hitting it hard once, then twice, "How does that feel, Peralta!" He was nearly screaming, spit hitting Jake's face as Hoytsman slammed his head against the locked van door four more times, "How does it feel!" He screamed louder, slamming it with the butt of his gun rendering the detective unconscious, blood pooling from the crack on his hairline which Geoffrey had inflicted. Hoytsman stared at the unmoving detective for a moment before going to the front of the van and driving.