JAKE

At least he was out of the apartment for a little while, that's what he had to keep telling himself as he sat in the precinct and looked through file after file of suspected murders by the Bratva's and their men. Three murders that were classified unsolved but were known associates or enemies of the Bratva's suffered similar terrifying ends as his victim Yuri Kravets. Similar wounds where their limbs were cut off, the medical examiner's reports all concluded the limbs were cut off with a similar serrated blade, a large one, possibly a machete with a serrated blade.

It wasn't easy for Jake to read the reports, two days at home with Amy had been what he needed despite being locked up for all intents and purposes. It was two days of not reading about the case, of not being reminded how awful the Bratva's were, and two days of being with Amy and knowing they could help one another if the need arose.

Every file revealed yet another picture, another reminder of what could happen to Amy, he knew he was threatened as well, but Amy was the main target as this was yet another consequence of her bravery. He had to organize all of the pictures for evidence for their case against the Bratva's, tying them to all of the murders due to Guleb's testimony of Yuri's murder. It was grizzly, depressing work, but it was necessary.

He looked up and scanned the detective's bullpen, there were far fewer people than normal due to increased security concerns and the fact that Guleb was being kept in an interrogation room for his own safety. Holt was adamant about the security and would destroy, in his own academic sounding way, anyone who failed to follow his measures. Charles had been torn apart a few times for not adhering to them even though he was recovering himself, and even Rosa, who after receiving her harsh verbal reprimand crushed a stapler in the bathroom to deal with her anger.

The clock told him it was only one-thirty, meaning he still had four and a half hours to go, Jake shook his head and slapped himself softly trying to wake himself up a little as fatigue began to set in. He opened the last file for the Bratvas and possible victims, Jake nearly gasped out loud when he saw the pictures in front of him. Two men who had died from explosions, on in his car and the other a package dropped off at his home. The file explained that the public was kept from finding out most of this as the mayor and captains of the precincts involved didn't want a panic on their hands. The last one had happened a year and a half earlier, the first one was not quite twenty months ago. Jake read more of the files, the agents and officers involved all suspected the two men were too difficult to grab and execute in the normal manner practiced, the serrated machete, so they used explosives.

Jake set the file down and closed his eyes momentarily, trying to regain his perspective, all of the pictures and accounts of executions were beginning to wear him down. He could feel himself begin to panic. He stood up and walked around, hoping that would help him as he could feel his heart racing.

Amy was in Captain Holt's office going through pictures of known members of the Bratva organization and their dossiers to look for potential defectors or allies. Holt stepped out of his office and walked over to Jake, who was pacing near his desk.

"Detective Peralta, are you well?" Jake turned to see his robotic captain show actual concern for him.

Jake swallowed, "I've been better sir, photo after photo and account after account of how the people who are after Amy and maybe me have taken care of their business isn't a fun read. I'm kind of freaking out. I'm not usually like this, but lately…"

Holt held up a hand, "no need for an explanation. I am aware of all you and your partner have sacrificed and put up with. Take all time you need. I have to go downstairs and talk to Captain McGinley in his temporary office, but when I return, I'll wrap up my work with detective Santiago and the two of you can leave for the day."

Jake nodded, "thank you, sir."

Jake continued pacing as Holt walked to the elevator, as the elevator doors opened, a delivery man got off, holding a box. He nodded at Holt and approached the detective's bullpen, where he was stopped by the officers securing the area.

"Relax guys, I'm bringing over some files from One Police Plaza for Detective Santiago, just sign here and I'm gone."

Officer Landry signed for the package and walked it to Santiago's office. The delivery man was about to get on the elevator when Jake thought of something and ran to him, "wait. Why didn't they use the normal official office mail?"

The man shrugged, but Jake thought he the man was sweating too much for a casual question, "Landry, grab him, I don't think he's legit."

The delivery man started yelling, "what the hell? This is legit! Look.." He pulled out id ID, an employee of a local business to business delivery company. Jake still wasn't satisfied, "do me a favor and call your office and see when it was dropped off and by who."

The delivery man shrugged and took out his cell phone, he eyed Jake for a second, then dialed the number. "Annie, it's Jimmy, I need information on the package I just delivered to the ninety-ninth precinct in Brooklyn. Yeah, that's right, thanks." He removed the phone momentarily, "this was dropped off by, paid for, and signed by a Captain Yuri Kravets…"

That was the name of the man's dismembered body that started the case with the Bratva's, alarms started going off in his mind, he felt shivers and panic throughout his body, Jake turned towards Holt's office in horror, "Amy, don't open that package!"

As Jake finished his sentence, Amy walked out of the office perplexed, "What's up?"

Jake released a sigh of relief, he smiled and was about to reply when it happened. A loud disorienting sound followed by wailing and destruction. Jake's ears were ringing, the windows were blown out of Holt's office, he disorientation was beginning to fade, he ran to the office, Amy was on the ground.

"Ames! Ames!" Jake knew he had never sounded more desperate or afraid in his life. Amy was on the ground covered by some debris, her face was bleeding, alot where something had struck her, he swore to himself, knelt down beside her and felt for a pulse, which was made difficult as his hands were shaking. Through the shaking he finally felt the pulse, his mind only partially at ease, her face was lacerated, and she could be bleeding in other areas as well. Other officers were surrounding him now, someone pulled him back, it was Holt who proceeded to take charge. Jake was numb and unsure what was truly happening.

He was being prodded towards the elevator, he turned his head slowly and realized he was standing next to a gurney with Amy on it. The paramedics had her hooked up to oxygen, Jake was unsure how, but he then found himself in the back of the ambulance with Amy.

He felt like the sirens were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality, his ears were still ringing, but it was his mind, he couldn't focus it, this whole situation felt surreal, like it had to be a dream, yet at the same time he knew it wasn't. He looked up and saw that Holt was with him, resolute and still, yet Jake noticed a year in his eye. In the back of his mind, a robot comment surfaced but was lost in the confusion he still felt.

"Peralta…Peralta?" Jake looked at him again, his mind finally focusing on the present.

"Captain?"

"What have you heard so far, of what the paramedics have said?"

Jake shrugged, "not much, my mind, so foggy."

Holt nodded somberly, "I think you are coming out of a mild shock, which is understandable. The explosion knocked her unconscious, she was clear of the worst of it, but she may have some internal bleeding."

Jake just stared, he felt powerless, they had been at their own precinct and were attacked. "How could this fucking happen?"

Holt now stared, he finally exhaled then spoke, "Sergeant Jeffords asked for their security footage, they have cameras going twenty-four seven, the picture was sent to me by Jeffords, it appears to be a man from the files Detective Santiago and I were looking through, Anitoliy Kolisnyk. We have an APB out for him, but we may be out of luck, he resurfaces to do the dirty work and then vanishes. I was informed by the D.A.'s office that former deputy commissioner O'Leary is being charged for several things relating to this and they are denying him bail. Groves is under house arrest and his charges are pending."

"What does it fucking matter? They got what they wanted, they got to her. Amy was being mistreated and then her life was in danger and these assholes were still free and getting paid to be officers of the law. Where is the justice here? Why isn't everyone getting torn a new one for looking the other fucking way while a victim was further victimized? It's complete bullshit! The NYPD, the mayor's office, they're all jokes! They protect their own while innocent lives are ruined!"

Jake felt his rage beginning to dissipate slightly, he took a breath after all of his shouting, "sorry, sir. You didn't deserve that, it was for people I'll never get to tell it to."

"Peralta, your rage is understood and understandable. Detective Santiago was mistreated, and it was done through the red tape of the NYPD. That red tape protected vile men, this will be dealt with."

Jake shrugged, "I don't care anymore. I just need Amy to be okay, then I'll see where my head's at. I mean, can I work for a department I don't believe in and can't trust? I put my life on the line and what do they do? Where do washed up policemen go for jobs Captain Holt?"

Captain Holt remained quiet, Jake thought maybe he went too far, but didn't care, he meant everything he said. He risked his life taking on criminals why apparently being led by criminals. He felt the fatigue start to envelop him, he wasn't sure he could walk when the ambulance stopped, and Amy was rushed into surgery. Jake was placed in a wheelchair and taken to the waiting room. He stared at the wall, at the blank wall, and then darkness.

He heard his name being yelled, he knew it was, but it seemed so far away, he opened his eyes and saw Charles. Charles walked toward him, not wearing a shirt, Jake blinked several times, "Charles?"

"Jake, are you okay? I had to come in for a treatment, there was some infection, they blamed it on me eating very rare meats while still recovering."

"Sounds right." Jake whispered.

"Why are you here? Is it Amy?" Jake realized Charles clutching his side, he leaned uncomfortably to one side as he looked to Jake for a response.

Jake felt so numb, the memories were coming back, "yeah." He croaked, "there was a package, a bomb, small, in the nine-nine."

"What, who?"

Jake rubbed his face, he could feel it, he knew he wasn't dreaming, his conversation with Holt started to come back to him, "someone from the Bratva's organization." Jake looked at his friend, still dealing with his health issues, he sat up straighter in the wheelchair, "Charles, I'm so sorry I never came and visited when you got stabbed, and you brought me soup and I didn't even think about how soon it was…."

Charles waved him off and smiled, "Jake, you've had your own stuff. Rosa's came and saw me, so did sarge, they let me know you and Amy were dealing with a lot. A lot. I get it. Rosa checks in with me, a lot, she might be terrifyingly tough but she's as good a person as there is."

While he was glad Charles understood, it didn't make Jake feel much better, he looked around the room and he was hit with the reality of his reason for being there. "You haven't seen Holt? He came here with Amy and I…I don't know what the hell is going on."

The doors were pushed opened and Terry entered the room, "Jake! Charles, good to see you up, stay away from that nasty food, Boyle." Terry looked at Jake again and remembered his purpose for being there, "Jake, you were out, they said not to bother you, just to let you rest. Holt is back at the precinct, he's meeting with the commissioner and giving him hell and asking how he expects to not be sued and lose his job when his officers are committing crimes without repercussion. The commissioner has already issued commendations for you and Amy, he's covering major ass."

Jake shook his head, "I don't care, I don't care. Amy? Terry, what's going on with Amy?"

Terry realized he hadn't told Jake anything real about Amy and immediately looked repentant, "Sorry, Jake. She's good. There was a little internal bleeding, they stopped it. She is in plastic surgery right now to lessen the scarring and long-term effects of the laceration."

Jake started to cry, he didn't care if she would look different, that sucked, but Amy being safe and alive, that's what he needed to hear. "Has she been conscious at all?"

Terry nodded, "no. It might be tough for her Jake. It just looked like a bad cut to me, I was happy she was alive, but the surgeon who came out to talk to Holt and I said it was deep and therefore scarring and infection could be an issue, so he was going in to do what he could to lessen the effects."

Jake nodded, he wasn't sure how Amy would react. She was gorgeous, there was no denying that, at all. She wasn't vain or preoccupied about her looks, she liked to dress nice, but that was her professionalism and OCD, not vanity. Would she struggle with her scarring? It might act as a constant reminder of what she went through and for the first time Jake realized that the short time they had been together hadn't given him any clues or ways to prepare for this. Would it put a strain on their relationship? He suddenly felt weighed down by what she would go through when she found out.

The fog that had been surrounding his mind seemed to get worse, the stress of all of this was overwhelming him and he didn't know what to do. He slumped in the wheelchair when he heard his name, he turned and saw a truly terrifying sight, Victor and Camila Santiago.

"Jake, what's going on? We don't know much." Terry looked at them, realized who they were, looked at Jake, he saw Jake's confusion and pain, and intervened.

"You must be Mr. and Mrs. Santiago. I'm Sergeant Terry Jeffords, from the nine-nine. Jake has been in shock, he was right there, he tried to prevent it, he realized it was a bomb and she wasn't directly hit like was planned because he called her out of the office where the package, the bomb was set. Your daughter is good, no serious internal damage…She is in surgery to try and minimize the effects of a severe laceration across her face."

Victor and Camila were both stoic and simply nodded, then Victor looked at Jake, "Detective, you look like hell."

Jake nodded, trying to push through the fog. "I'm sorry, I've done a shitty job…she keeps…I was supposed to protect…"

Victor placed a firm hand on Jake's shoulder, "Jake, you are still in shock. You have been here for her when she thought no one would. She is like me, she would keep knocking her head against a brick wall if it was her only option, we Santiago's don't stop. She took on this fight thinking she would be alone, and she would have been, but she met you. I don't pretend to understand everything she sees in you, but she sees something that gives her strength and comfort, and that has gotten her though this and will get her through the problems and issues that she will have to face in the next few days and beyond."

Jake could only nod, he wanted to say something, but the overwhelming stress and responsibility still seemed to exert an actual physical force on him, Victor looked from him to Terry, "I think he needs a doctor…"

They were interrupted by nurse, "Doctor Browning sent me for Detective Peralta, he was concerned about his condition, he arranged for the detective to be observed in a room where his partner will be placed. We normally wouldn't do that, but since she pulled him from a burning building and he prevented her from dying from a bomb, the rulebook has been thrown out."

Victor and Camila looked at each other, Victor nodded, "that sounds like it will help both of them."

The fogginess only seemed to increase, he could hear people talking about him, he knew he was being moved, but it meant nothing to him, it was background noise. He felt himself lifted onto a bed, he sort of felt his arm pricked as IV's were administered, and then he succumbed back into the darkness.

Beeping, the annoying beeping of hospital gadgets and monitors, he recognized them at once as he gradually opened his eyes and tried to focus them. He didn't remember how he got to the room, but he was now hooked up, he looked to the side as he was about to call for someone, when he saw that lying next to him was Amy. She had small cuts on her arms, across her face, diagonally going down from the left to right side, were bandages. The bandages covered parts of her nose but missing the mouth and eyes. He remembered vaguely being told about her lacerations, but it still seemed surreal to him.

He silently watched her, she was breathing on her own, hooked up to a few more IV's than he was, but she was alive. His head hurt, he wondered if had fainted or hit it, or if it was just the stress still working its magic on him. A nurse came in and noticed he was awake.

"Mr. Peralta, how are you feeling?"

He blinked several times, "okay, I think. My head hurts."

The nurse nodded, "you were dehydrated and in shock, we put some liquids and sedatives into you, you were out for four or five hours."

He lifted his hand, hooked up the IV's and motioned to Amy, "how is she doing?"

The nurse smiled, "she is good. Her vitals are great, she was awake for a little while and worried about you."

"Does she know about her scarring and everything?"

"Yes, we explained it to her, her parents were here as well. She was a little groggy and very tired, but we think she understood everything."

Jake was silent, he would have to wait again. He turned on the tv and found nothing but infomercials and depressing news, so turned it off and was left with his thoughts. He worried how Amy would react, a scar was cool, but would she think so?

After an hour of being tortured by the relative silence interrupted only by the beeps and machine noises, he heard his name. He turned and Amy was stirring, blinking and coughing a little.

"Hey," he said it softly, again marveling at his eloquence when things were difficult. "How are you feeling there, champ?"

"Terrible, like a bomb went off. Which it did. Did they tell you about my face?"

"Yeah, scarring, but you're okay, that's the good news, right?" She said nothing, staring forward. He could see the worry in her eyes, he may have only known her a short time, but in their intense time together, he knew when she was trying to process. Her brain was looking for logic, she was searching the silver lining or for a goal to work for Jake wondered if she could find any silver lining or a goal in all of this. He would be happy to be alive but angry, he reached over and gently clasped her hand in his. "I'm so sorry, Ames."

She nodded as best she could with her position on the bed, "yeah, me too. Every day I live my life Jake, every day, no matter my accomplishments, no matter the good I do, I will have to see a memento left to me because I took a stand."

Jake felt his own emotions starting to be too much to take, "Ames," he whispered it lovingly and as tender as he could, "you can't think like that. You're alive. That's what's important."

"You can live with a woman whose face will be stared at and asked about? Everywhere I go people will suspect I suffered something, they'll whisper and try to guess. A terrible game to play, but one I'll witness wherever I go."

Jake closed his eyes, he didn't know how to convey to her his feelings, the I love you's he had told her were the most he had told anyone, how could he communicate the even stronger feelings he had for her? The tears flowed from his eyes, she looked at him, her face tense with anger and confusion.

"Ames, your beauty is made up of a million things. Your face, while perfect, was not why I love you. That fucking bomb could never take your stubborn nature, the way you don't give up. It could never take away the kindness, the way you make me want to be better, the way that I knew after just a few days with you that I could be happy with you for the rest of my life. I knew it Ames, without a doubt, and it's me. I'm supposed to have the emotional capacity and maturity of a twelve-year old."

"You won't look at me and regret that my looks went so early?"

"Ames, it's a scar, a scar, maybe a bad one, we don't know, I only know that nothing could make me not want to be with you. You have to believe me, I know that this sucks so much for you, I truly do, but…"

"Will you still look at me the way you used to? Like I'm perfect?" Her face had the quality of a small child wanting reassurance from a nightmare.

"Always, because you are Ames, to me. You are more than a scar, you are so much fucking more."

She nodded, then looked towards the door, "my dad said he didn't think you'd change how you felt about me. He said despite your many faults, being that shallow and disloyal wasn't one of them." she turned to him again, her eyes brimming with tears.

Jake sat up as best he could, his head was still not great, he lifted her hand as much as he could with the different tubes she was connected to, then leaned forward and pressed her hand to his cheek, "feel that, scars, little ones, from some acne, not a lot mind you…off topic, but they're there, I mean, who's perfect? And every time I feel that scar with my hands, my cheek, it will remind me of how incredible you are. Of how you took a stand, how you never backed down. But most of all, it will remind me of how fucking lucky I am to still have you with me."

She closed her eyes, a few tears still gently falling, saying nothing as she took several deep breaths. Jake wanted to let her process things, hoping that she wasn't doubting his sincerity and love. He watched her as she continued to process everything with her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling, the occasional tear still falling. He wanted to respect her process, but he couldn't stay silent any longer.

"Ames, I hope you know how much I meant what I said. I know all of this is so much to take in, that there will be challenges, but I'm not one of them, well, I am, my maturity and mouth, but not my love for you. I'm not going to lie, if I met someone with a scar, it might take getting used to," Amy made a sound, tears falling, Jake knew he better get to his point, "but I already know you, I know how much I love you, how much I need you, how lucky I am that you survived. A scar doesn't change that, like I said, it just reminds me of the amazing shit, you're still here."

After another deep breath, she turned and opened her eyes, "will you always feel that way?"

"Ames, yes, of course. After you got hurt, I could barely think, I was in shock. I could barely say anything, nothing felt real, I was in a fog. Serious fog. One thing kept running through my mind, just one thing, and that was how lucky I was to get a month and a half with you. That if you were gone, which would have crushed me, that at least I got to have you in my life. Cheesy shit Ames, but the truth."

Jake scooted closer to her and put his hand to her cheek without the cut, he gently moved it up and down, then kissed her, "it doesn't matter if there's a scar, it's still you."

Jake reassured her a few more times, she didn't smile, but she wasn't frowning, she seemed to relax and soon she fell asleep. He started to google self esteem and was serious about researching to help her when he heard a light rap on the door and looked up to see Victor.

"Mr. Santiago, she just fell asleep." Jake said quietly.

"How is she? She was pretty shook-up before, she took it all in, like she does, but I know it won't be easy."

Jake nodded, "yeah, she's worried. She thinks it will be all people focus on, that for the rest of her life they'll talk about it."

Victor eyed him, "and you?"

"Me? There was a time when I may have been a dick and cared about something like that, but your daughter, while beautiful sir, is amazing for many reasons. I told her there were a million things that made her beautiful, and I meant it."

Victor nodded, "there may be hope for you yet Peralta."