Summary: Episode tag to 4x03 Coral Palms Pt. 3. What happens between Jake and Amy kissing in the ambulance, and Jake coming back to work at the Nine Nine? Jake has to get his leg looked after, Amy and Jake have to get back in sync, and the whole squad has to get back to New York. This fic is my way of imagining how those events played out.
A/N: This fic should be about 6 chapters in total. I have 4 written, so this should update weekly until it's finished. It's an episode tag to Coral Palms Pt. 3 that has run away from me in length; a fairly plotless excuse for me to write hurt/comfort, peraltiago and a roadtrip, arguably my three favourite things.
Brief content warning for blood and medical stuff, since, you know, I'm writing about Jake getting shot in the leg. (Disclaimer that I have no real actual medical knowledge).
Dialogue from ep 4x03 Coral Palms Pt. 3 is from the scripts on .uk. Title from the fantastic song "Beside You" by Marianas Trench.
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"It was actually just like the end of Speed, which is a pretty good movie. It's not as good as Die Hard, though. Die Hard's perfect." Jake's babbling, curled up around his leg, which is seeping blood through his cargo shorts.
Amy wants to stay with him. Well, what she really wants is not to have shot him, but they're past that point now. Figgis ran and dropped Jake as soon as she fired her gun.
"Okay, Jake, I'm gonna go after Figgis." At least he's got his hand on the wound. Amy hopes he's putting enough pressure on it. He is a cop, so he has first aid training. But it's one thing attending to a gunshot victim, and another dealing with being shot himself.
"Yeah, I was gonna say, you should keep going after Figgis. Same page, still!" He shouts after her, and then Amy's gone.
She rounds the corner of the mini golf course just in time to see a truck plow into Figgis' car. The moment after the crash is eerily silent, but Amy quickly recovers from her shock and races towards the car with her gun drawn. It feels like the world erupts into chaos then. Gina is climbing down from the truck, somehow she has a gun too. Amy can see Captain Holt sitting up in the passenger seat.
"Hand's up, NYPD!" Amy commands Figgis. Gina keeps her gun drawn, but she has the sensibility to stand back and let Amy deal with Figgis. Figgis reluctantly gets out of the car with his hands up and Amy handcuffs him.
Terry, Rosa and Charles are running across the parking lot as Amy roughly turns Figgis around. One of the Coral Palms PD officers follows from the opposite direction—the tall, black officer that Rosa took down inside the Fun Zone. Someone must have filled him in, though, because he introduces himself as Officer Jones, professional and ready to collaborate. Figgis shot the Sherriff, he tells them.
"I had to shoot Jake—Detective Peralta," she says for the sake of Officer Jones, "to free him from Figgis."
Amy sees worry cross Terry's face for half a second before he responds. "Go! Take Rosa. We'll deal with Figgis." He grabs hold of Figgis' handcuffs.
Amy and Rosa are hurrying across the parking lot when another one of the Coral Palms PD Officers comes towards them. She doesn't recognize him though; he must have just arrived.
"Hold it right there," he commands them, weapon drawn.
"We're NYPD." Amy is desperate to get to Jake. "We've just apprehended a dangerous mob head—Jimmy Figgis. And one of our officers was shot. Contact the FBI if you don't believe me."
The officer sneers at her. "You expect me to believe that?"
Officer Jones follows, running towards them before Amy can speak. "Sherriff Reynolds was shot. We've called for medics and backup."
"Please—," Amy starts.
The radio on the shoulder of the CPPD Officer crackles to life. The dispatcher on the other end is efficient and to the point. FBI on their way. Collaborate with the NYPD Officers. Hold Jimmy Figgis and contain the scene.
Officer Jones puts his gun back in holster. "Collins, go with these officers, so they have radio access. I'll stay here and direct the medics."
Collins nods and finally, finally, they're on the move. Jogging back down the mini-golf path, towards Jake and the Sherriff.
"I'll go see if there's a First Aid kit in the Fun Zone." Rosa peels off across the parking lot towards the front door.
Jake is still lying on the ground. He's curled on his side, with both hands pressed over the wound on his leg. Amy is a good shot, and she knows exactly where to aim to minimize damage. But minimizing damage doesn't avoid damage. Or eliminate possible complications.
"Jake, I'm back. We caught Figgis. How are you feeling?" Amy kneels by Jake, and puts her hand on his.
"There's so much blood." He sounds dazed.
"It's okay. You're gonna be okay. We're just gonna keep the pressure on. Medics are on the way. "
She's relieved to see an exit wound on the other side of his lower thigh. She hit him a little to the right, trying to avoid the bone. There is a lot of blood, but it's seeping, not spurting. And that, too, is a good sign.
He groans when she presses down on his leg.
"Talk to me, don't think about it." Amy commands.
"I'm so happy you're here."
She can feel his eyes on her, but she doesn't look up from her hands.
"Me too, Jake."
"I hate Florida. The pizza is cold and warm at the same time, and you're not here, and there are so many bees…" he trails off.
"But we're going back to New York."
Rosa comes running with a dilapidated first aid kit in hand. She's still breathing hard from sprinting over as she rifles through to find absorbent dressings.
Jake makes a sound in the back of his throat. Then suddenly, he twists to look at his leg and blanches. Amy can hear sirens getting louder and louder as Jake breathing gets shallower and more rapid.
"Hey, Jake. Look at me. You have to stay calm."
"I...I just don't like…that I have blood. Remembering…that I have it."
"You don't have to explain right now. I know. You just have to keep calm. Breath with me." Amy takes exaggerated slow breaths. Jake tries to copy her rhythm and seems to calm a bit.
"Amy's the best shot in the precinct. You'll be fine, dummy," Rosa adds. She's got gloves from the first aid kit, and is helping Amy keep pressure on his leg.
"Uh-uh. 'M the best shot," Jake mumbles.
Suddenly, a pair of paramedics appear from behind the tacky mini golf course. They introduce themselves as Emily and Craig, and Amy quickly fills them in on the situation. They take over from Amy and Rosa, adding bandages on top of the ones the detectives had applied.
Amy finally lets herself stop and think about what had happened. She has Jake's blood all over her hands, she couldn't wait for the gloves that Rosa is wearing. She's with Jake. She hurt Jake. Even though she kept reassuring him, she has no guarantee that he's going to be okay. Bullet wounds are dangerous and fickle. She may have found Jake only to lose him all over again.
She puts a hand reassuringly on his shoulder, even though she knows she'll get blood on his shirt. Emily is speaking to Jake, while maintaining pressure on his leg. She has a kind, but firm voice. The other, Craig, is taking his vitals.
"Jake, uh, Peralta," he responds when she asks his name. "Detective Jake Peralta. Not Larry Sherbert. No way, never again."
The bleeding looks like it's slowed down, and the paramedics are working with a fraction less urgency.
"We're just going to check you over for other injuries, Detective, and then we'll get a move on. Are you injured anywhere else?"
"I don't think so. I don't…I'm not good at thinking about. All this."
Craig is checking him over and Emily, the first paramedic, keeps talking.
"How old are you, Detective?"
"Uhh, 36?" He raises his voices at the end, unsure.
"He's 36," Amy cuts in.
"My girlfriend, Ames," he murmurs. "She shot me."
Amy sputters a bit, not wanting the paramedics to misunderstand. "I had to shoot him, he was being held by a dangerous criminal. I shot him so the man would let go." She tells the paramedics the calibre of her gun too, just in case it's important.
"How's the pain? Scale of 1-10?" Emily continues.
"Weirdly not bad. Seven? I feel like it should feel worse. I just feel so floaty, like I'm not really here. It's really freaking me out. Like I'm freaked out on the inside, but I can't even really freak out, ya know?" He's pale. His eyes darting back and forth between the paramedics and Amy and his own leg, now wrapped in bandages. Amy knows that look, knows he feels trapped and anxious and that his brain is spinning faster than it can make sense.
They ask more questions. So many questions. Allergies? "Bees and wasps," Amy supplies. Does he take any medication? When was the last time he ate?
Amy looks at the paramedics, concerned, but they're not looking at her. They're working on immobilizing his leg and positioning the gurney to move Jake onto it.
"Okay Detective Peralta. We're going to move you on to the stretcher so we can take you to the ambulance."
They move him onto the gurney and Jake lets out a shout in pain. Amy's heart clenches at the sound. She did that to him. She had to stand back to let the paramedics move and it's killing her that she can't be holding his hand at this exact second. Rosa puts her arm around Amy, and Amy can't remember Rosa ever showing physical affection like this.
They take Jake back to the parking lot where the ambulance is parked. Amy sees the Sherriff is being treated in a second ambulance nearby. There are cop cars and flashing lights everywhere. The red and blue lights reflect off the pavement and bounce around the muggy air.
Rosa turns to Amy, looking frazzled. Her hair is frizzy from the humidity and she looks exhausted.
"Do you mind if I go see Figgis? I have a message from Adrian for him and I promised I'd delivered it."
Usually Rosa doesn't ask her permission, unless it's work-related, and it means a lot to Amy that Rosa is making sure that she's okay.
"Go. I'm okay. Thanks Rosa."
The paramedics have gotten Jake into the ambulance, and are talking to him again.
"Detective Peralta? We're just going to get some blood into you. It'll help you feel better, okay?"
"Okay." Jake agrees, but he screws his eyes closed as Craig moves to insert the IV in the crook of his elbow.
"Officer?" Amy realizes Emily, the paramedic, is talking to her. "We're still going to be a minute, if you want to take the time to clean up. We'll still be here."
Amy notices they've transferred Jake off the gurney again, and Emily is headed towards the parking lot with it. For Captain Holt, she realizes. There are only two ambulances in the parking lot, and the other one is about to leave with the Sherriff. She is irrationally annoyed that Jake is the one to share the ambulance, and not that piece of crap Sherriff.
Amy doesn't want to leave, but she realizes there's no way she can physically get in the ambulance with Jake, so she takes the moment to clean up. When Amy comes back from scrubbing her hands, Jake is sitting on the ambulance floor. He seems a bit more with it; Amy assumes they've given him something for the pain. He perks up when Amy walks up to him.
"Hey, how's the Sherriff?"
"Well he keeps yelling, 'Disability for life!' So I think he's fine. Also Coral Palms PD found your marshal at Figgis' hideout alive and well."
"Oh, that's great." It's a good sign that Jake is thinking clear enough to ask about the Sherriff.
"Yeah."
"How are you doing?" Amy moves closer to him.
"Fine, you know. Just getting bandaged up."
He's clenching and unclenching his fist. Amy wonders if the paramedics directed him to do that to help with blood flow, like when she donates blood. Amy notices they're giving him a transfusion. But it's such a nervous habit of Jake's to fidget when he's uncomfortable, that's all Amy can see as he rhythmically opens and closes his fist. He's putting on a brave act, but that, too, is a good sign. He's much more aware, and Amy doesn't see any signs of the panic that was setting in when she first got to him.
The second paramedic, Craig, is fiddling with the bandages on Jake's leg. Jake turns his attention from Amy, and addresses him.
"Actually, can you give us a second? Thanks." Craig exits out the side door of the ambulance. More good signs, that they don't think Jake needs constant attention.
Jake turns back to Amy. She can see the pain in his eyes a little bit now.
"It hurts so bad. I just didn't want to seem weak in front of EMT Craig," he admits.
For some reason, that brings out a small smile from Amy. She loves this man so much. Jake and his constant jokes, and ridiculous bravado, and uncanny ability to stay cool in the face of danger.
"So I know this is weird to say, because I just shot you, but it feels like we're back in sync now," Amy tells him. He looks up at her with those melting brown eyes, and she can't believe it's been 6 months since he left for Florida.
"Yeah, I mean, as in sync as I've ever been with someone who just shot me." There are the jokes she missed in laughingly-inappropriate situations.
"I love you." She's close to him now, standing right up against the cold metal side of the ambulance.
"I love you, too." They kiss, and it's everything and nothing like she obsessively imagined over the last six months.
"Hey," Jake breaks their embrace, "do you happen to know my blood type?"
"Yeah, B positive." She doesn't even have to think, pulling back from Jake to look at him, confused."
"Well, guessed wrong." There's a bit of panic returning to his face. "Hey Craig?" he calls, pulling at the IV in his arm.
"Wait, Jake." Amy reaches out to grab his hands. "They wouldn't give you a transfusion without making sure it's safe. Just leave it in, I'll go get Craig and he can reassure you, okay?"
"But what if he didn't, Amy? What if he forgot?" His voice is rising in pitch.
"He didn't forget. Just stay there, I'll be right back." Amy jogs around the side of the ambulance.
She comes back with Craig, to find Jake once again tugging at his IV cannula in his elbow.
"Hey man, you gotta stop that." This time it's Craig who grabs his hands. "It's universal blood. It's safe, okay. Leave the IV alone."
"You're sure?" Jake's voice is quiet.
"I'm sure. We're good to go, by the way. Let's just get you back on the gurney."
Amy assumes another ambulance, or some sort of transport, must have shown up for Captain Holt. She wishes she could tell the paramedics to stop, to give her and Jake more time alone together, to make sure he's calm and okay before they take him to the hospital. But she knows that's not a good idea, and instead she reaches for hand.
"I'll see you later. Everything's gonna be okay, just trust that people are gonna take care of you. I love you." She says it with a touch of urgency, trying to make her voice stick, so it will last until she can see him again.
"Love you too, Ames. So much."
The paramedics tell her the hospital they're headed to, and she goes to confer with the rest of the squad and follow in their van.
~~end of chapter 1~~
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A/N:
-I had originally written that Jake had First Responder's training, which led me down a hole researching what constitutes a Certified First Responder. I learned that the NYPD (and my local police department in Canada) only require Standard First Aid and CPR (which, like, I have), and the NYPD only started training patrol officers in Advanced First Aid for the first time in 2016.
-I actually did a bunch of research for this fic, but please keep in mind I'm just an Environmental Studies graduate and underemployed translator with too much time on my hands. Beyond my Standard First Aid training, I have zero real medical knowledge.
-I had to figure out some way to account for the fact that Jake is sitting on the floor of the ambulance when Amy talks to him at the end of the episode. They all seemed remarkably calm for the fact that he had been shot, even though (from my research it seems like) it's highly possible it wouldn't hurt him too badly. I decided the paramedics were also dealing with Holt at the same time. Whether this is realistic or not, I have no idea. (By this logic, the two paramedics treating him should both be men—EMT Craig as mentioned in the episode, and the other male paramedic seen with Holt. But I had already created Emily the paramedic and was too lazy to rewrite).
-On that note, I know that EMTs and paramedics are actually different things, and have different levels of certification. But, I'm Canadian, and we only ever refer to our ambulance staff as paramedics. It seems like paramedics are more advanced than EMTs, and only paramedics can provide treatments that break the skin, such as administering medications and starting IV lines. Anyways, it was too much work to parse whether they would be EMTs or paramedics, or one of each, in the situation, so I just call them paramedics, except for the canon line where Jake calls him 'EMT Craig'. *Shrugs.* It is fanfic after all.