The Demon Of The Nine-Nine
Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or Brooklyn 99 in any way, shape, or form, they belong to their respective owners.
Iilumenexicorti: Thanks.
Grudgematch: I wouldn't put it past Gina, to be honest.
TheClowningPrince: Happy to hear it!
Guest: It very unlikely that Noble Industries will ever be hacked unless Six happens to create another A.I to take the burden off Dot and it happens to go rouge.
GloGang214: Yes I did.
Jestalnaker94000: If this had Six during his earlier days then it would have been a very different story, but fortunately he's mellowed since being a Cop...kinda.
Trailblazer445: Well at least you liked it even if it was filler like I said, and its pretty obvious to everyone present that there is an attraction between Six and Rosa, which at this point is mostly them going out of their way to annoy the others...but we'll see what happens in the future.
Guest: Well I'm currently of two minds whether to continue what I have or rewrite it with me finishing the first episode in one chapter but the biggest change would be that Noble Industries exists in the rewrite and that Six is no longer a Spartan, but when he encounters the sisters he is forced to don his armour once again to protect them and the rest of humanity from the supernatural world.
Statess: I really recommend the show, easily one of greatest series I have ever watched.
Simoms .sauer: Ah, you're too kind. Thank you. I mean there are times that I wonder if I've captured their personalities correctly and it doesn't come across OOC, hopefully that isn't the case.
Brainstorm Sorcerer: I'm certain that the squad would have had a good laugh at it, Jake especially. And yes, Six will be included in that Cold Open. I've got a pretty good idea what his favourite film will be but haven't decided for certain yet.
Ieuan Evans 2814: I've never actually sat down and watched a full episode of NCIS, so it's unlikely that I'll ever write a crossover between Halo x NCIS but if I do ever happen to watch an episode I may try and adapt it to fit into this universe.
The Qrow: Trust me, you were not the only one. When I first got the idea for this story, I didn't think that it would work either but I was pleasantly surprised at the interest and support I got. And while I appreciate it, I'm certain that there are many, many flaws with my grammar which even I know is atrocious.
Guest: First off, I never promised I said that I would try and upload the next chapter within a week. Secondly, my reasons for not updating are in the other guest review.
conormccann2k10: Again, you're not the only one to thing that. Regardless, I'm glad you like it :)
Chapter 10.
The skies were as black as sin as Six sat behind the wheel of his truck and drove through New York and headed to the address that Terry that given him the night before. As he drove through the city, he glanced over at the clock to see that it was 04:22, meaning that he had plenty of time to reach the Sergeants home and pick him up like he promised.
He was many things, most of them bad, but he liked to believe that he wasn't a liar...aside from the bit about him being from the twenty-sixth century, a super soldier, a vigilante, having an Artificial Intelligence as a partner, and owning Noble Industries. But in his defence, nobody had ever asked him if he was...well, not entirely.
He had been investigated a couple of times over the last decade regarding whether or not if he was the Demon due to the similar skillset that both exhibited; fortunately between himself and Dot they had managed to cover their tracks to the extent that it would have been impossible for Jericho Reach and the Demon to be the same person, mostly because there was no way to explain how he could he could somehow be in Los Angeles then back in New York within an hour.
Unbeknownst to them, he had failed to mention that he also had a Prowler hidden beneath his home outside of the city. Of course, they never actually asked him if he did so technically, he didn't lie.
Moving on.
To say that he was a little out of his element would be an understatement. For ten years...actually, it was more like twenty now that he thought about it. Regardless, he prided himself on maintaining a professional working relationship with his colleagues and yet here he was about to be spending time with somebody outside of work...it was almost human.
Almost.
Just because he was helping Terry out did not mean he would allow himself to become emotionally compromised and jeopardise the mission; a mistake that he had made far too many times and ultimately paid the price for his foolishness.
There had been many times where he had allowed himself to grow close to people when he thought that he could maintain his humanity. However, when they died, as they often did, he acted recklessly. Worse, he acted emotionally. He stopped thinking clearly and instead allowed his emotions to dictate his actions, which was unacceptable for a Spartan.
From an early age he had been taught to kill the enemy quick and effectively, but when people he cared about died, he acted emotionally, made his enemies suffer as he took it out on them. He thought that he had conditioned himself enough, trained himself to bury his emotions, killed the person that had existed before Spartan-B312...but then he met Noble Team.
Maybe it was the fact that they were Spartans, or maybe it was simply his own weakness, either way he allowed himself to get close to them and ultimately paid the price for it and became emotionally compromised when they died and left him behind. For that reason, he swore to himself that he would never let it happen again, never again would he allow his weakness to become a hindrance.
It was for that reason why he had declined the offer to go drinking with his new squad. He had nothing against them personally, they all seemed like fine people from the limited time he had spent with them. That being said, he could not allow himself to be distracted, to grow close to these people knowing that they were a weakness that could be exploited.
It was a weakness that he would have exploited if he was utilizing psychological warfare on his enemies. Killing had never been something that he had enjoyed, but if done correctly it was just a chore, like any other.
Furthermore, even if he had agreed to go drinking with the Nine-Nine, what would he have even spoken about? The Weather? No, if they wanted to know about the weather they could just look outside or use an application on their cellular devices. Not only that but drinking really was a waste of time for him since he was incapable of becoming intoxicated due to his high metabolism that burned off the alcohol before it could take effect.
His train of thought was interrupted as he finally reached his destination. Spotting Terry's minivan parked on the curb, Six pulled up behind it and switched his engine off before getting out and stood in front of his truck since Terry and the others had only seen the Charger, meaning there was a high chance that he'd be sitting there a while before Terry realized that it was him that was parked outside.
Although, who else would it be at this time of morning?
Looking over at Terry's home, he saw that there was a light on meaning that somebody was up at the very least...that or somebody had left the light on the night before. Even so, he thought it best to simply wait rather than knocking on the door and risk waking up the entire household considering the hour.
Standing alone in the darkness, he felt the crisp morning air brush across his scarred features and closed his eyes letting out a deep breath, one that was spent and seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders. Opening his weary blue eyes, he slipped his hand underneath his shirt and pulled out the dog-tags that had become as familiar as his own heartbeat and gently ran his thumb across them spreading them out in his hand.
Staring at the names that were engraved across each of the tags, melancholy washed over him as he saw the faces of Noble Team clearly in his mind's eye as if they were standing before him. Trailing his thumb over the names, his eyes lingered on one in particular.
Jorge.
Even just thinking the name brought him more shame than he could ever put into words. There hadn't been a day that had gone by since Operation: UPPERCUT that Jorge wasn't in his thoughts. If only he had spoken up, used his rank to force him off the corvette while he activated the slipspace drive, but instead what did he do? Just stood by and let it all happen.
He didn't argue, didn't try to fight back, make some last-ditch attempt to convince Jorge to leave knowing full well that he was far more valuable to the war effort, whereas he was nothing more than an expendable super soldier...if anyone should've stayed behind it was him; and everyone knew it.
If things had played out differently that day and Jorge had lived, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have kept Noble Team alive and gotten them safely off Reach to finish the fight and avenge everyone that had died there.
He often found himself wondering what Jorge would have done if it had been him that had been transported back in time. Personally, he couldn't see him becoming a detective or even joining any Police Agencies around the globe. No, if anything he would've became a teacher and spent his time educating the next generation and trying to make the world a better place.
The thought of Jorge wearing a suit and trying to squeeze through every classroom doorframe got a quiet chuckle from the Spartan. Being 6'5 was trying enough, but 7'6? Everyday would've been hell for him, the same could be said for Kurt who was even bigger...the twenty-first century really wasn't made with Spartans in mind, Which admittingly was probably because there wasn't meant to be any for another five hundred years.
Six was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when he heard a front door closing. Looking in the direction of the noise, he saw Terry playing with his home before a small light powered up lightning up the path.
"Jericho? Is that you?" Six heard Terry whisper as he pointed his phone at the ground and made his way down the garden path and over to him.
"Hmmm."
"I thought I heard somebody pull up," Terry remarked as he stepped out onto the street and lowered the light so that he didn't blind Jericho. "What're you doing standing in the dark though?"
"Waiting for you."
"Yeah, but why are you standing in the dark?" Terry asked yet again.
"You've never seen my truck before," Six stated simply as he stared at him. "I figured it would be best to wait outside so you would know it was me."
"In the dark?"
"You saw me, didn't you?" Six asked rhetorically not really needing to hear his answer...after all, he could see him perfectly even without the light thanks to his enhanced scotopic vision that essentially gave him his own night vision; a rather handy ability that had come in useful more than once.
"I guess," Terry murmured before looking at the truck making his eyes widen when he saw what Jericho was standing in front of. "Damn," His usual boisterous shibboleth was dialled back as he whispered the words out. "Is that a GMC 1500 Sierra?"
"Mmm-hmmm"
"She's beautiful." Terry complimented staring at the top-of-the-line truck that was parked outside his home; and while he didn't voice it out loud, he was glad that Sharon was still sleeping soundly in their bed. She still wanted an SUV rather than the Minivan, but those things rolled, they rolled! How was he meant to focus on his work when he too busy worrying about whether his babies were rolling or not?
Before anything else could be said between the two the sound of a car speeding in the distance drew their attention followed by popping, spluttering, and gurgling as a light suddenly cut through the darkness and bled down the street as said car came around the corner and came racing towards them like a bat out of hell. Reaching them, the driver hit the brakes and skidded to a halt.
The smell of rubber burning hit their nostrils as the car stopped in front of them. Once it did, they saw that it was a dusty highland green Ford Mustang Fastback that had clearly seen better days considering the noises it was making. As soon as it came to a stop the grubby window rolled down to reveal...
"Hey, guys!" Jake grinned widely at the two of them revealing his bloodshot eyes.
"Do you have any idea what time it is, Jake?!" Terry hissed as the silence of the morning was replaced by dogs barking that echoed down the street.
"Mmmmm, 5:02, wait 5:03...Oh, you were being rhetorical, my bad." Jake realized when he found himself on the receiving end of the flat glare that Terry gave him. "Well, I see that somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."
"How did you even find where I live?" Terry demanded, his tone like that of an angry father speaking down to his child.
"Really, Terry?" Jake chuckled shaking his head. "Do you really that finding an address is beyond my capabilities?"
"Yes."
"Hurtful," Jake muttered. "But not untrue. Gina told me."
"G-Gina?!" The muscular Sergeant spluttered feeling a chill run down his spine. Jake knowing where he lived was one thing, but Gina? Oh, good god. Was there nowhere safe from that woman? He suddenly began looking around fearfully as if she was going to emerge from the shadows at that very moment.
"We can be together forever, Ter-Bear." Her voice rang in his head making him whimper. "Just you and me."
"Terry don't feel good."
"What's wrong with your car?" Six suddenly asked Jake, oblivious to Terry's inner turmoil.
"How dare you." Jake sounded scandalized as he patted the top of the Mustang affectionally. "This baby runs just like new." Almost as if it was trying to claim otherwise, the engine suddenly cut out without warning making him grumble. "Traitor."
"Pop the hood." Six told him walking around to the front of the car. Waiting for a few seconds for Jake to pull the level, he lifted the hood only to receive a face full of smoke for his troubles. Fanning as much of the smoke away as he could, he held the hood up with prop rod and looked down at the engine.
"I know it probably looks bad." Jake stated as he got out of the Mustang.
"You're right."
"I am?" He was a little surprised but quickly played it off. "I mean, of course I am. No doubt, no doubt, no doubt."
"It does look bad."
"Oh," Jake mumbled as Terry, his inner turmoil over or at the very least subdued for the time being, came over and shined his light on the engine.
"Damn, Jake!" Terry exclaimed; however, it didn't have its usual oomph since he was whispering. "How is this thing even road legal?" He asked looking down at the sorry state of the engine.
"Smoking means it's working." Jake informed him folding his arms and nodding sagely.
"No, it means that your engine is overheating!" Terry retorted. "You're damn lucky you haven't gotten yourself killed!"
"Dangerous is my middle name." The dangerous detective chuckled playing off his concern.
"Actually, it's Jeffery?"
"How do you know that?" Jake was a little taken back that Jericho somehow knew that...but he just put it down to him being the awesome detective that he was….that and he had somehow discovered that Rosa's actual name was Rosalita; and to say that she was furious would be an understatement.
"Just wait, soon I'm gonna learn every little thing about that smoking hot, scar-faced bastard." Her words from the night before echoed in his mind. "I want to break him."
"Smell that?" Jake was pulled from his thoughts regarding what Rosa planned to do to Jericho when he heard him ask him a question.
"Sorry, I was hoping it would be silent." Jake quipped and chuckled at his own joke.
"You've burnt through the wire casing hence the copper smell," Six once again ignored him as he pointed to the melted and frayed wiring. "The air filter is in desperate need of replacing," To prove his point he gestured to the burnt and black air filter that could be seen through the vents. "And..." He trailed off as he pulled out the dipstick. "You have no oil."
"Ha, good one!" Jake stretched his laugh out and shook his head. "Everyone knows that cars run on gasoline." His laugh morphed into a thin smile as both Terry and Jericho turned to look at him.
"How long have you had this car, Jake?" Terry asked rhetorically as Jericho placed the dipstick back. "And you're telling me that you've never done an oil change? Changed the air filter? What about the engine coolant? Brake fluid? The brakes?" He sighed when all he got back was a blank look from his second best detective. "This is going straight over your head, isn't it?"
"A little." Jake admitted making Terry close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Sometimes you really amaze me, Jake."
"Thanks!"
"It wasn't a compliment."
"Oh."
"It's not the worst I've seen," Jericho suddenly spoke up drawing their attention as he closed the hood and pushed down on it to ensure that it locked in place.
"It isn't?" Terry was a little sceptical considering it looked like it was on its last legs.
"I could fix it for you if you like?"
"Really?" Jake felt his heart jump for joy at the offer. "You'd do that?" He asked getting a nod from Jericho.
While he didn't let it show it saddened the Spartan to see the precarious state of the Mustang. By the time that he had been born the only place you could find them was in a museum, and even then most of the time it was just a holographic image rather than the actual car since by the twenty-five hundreds they had fallen into decrepitude. Sure there were some that were still around but they were either in the hands of antiquarians that collected anything and everything to do with Earth's history; or it was simply a facsimile of the real thing.
That was not to say that it was any less impressive, both the original and replica were marvels of engineering, steppingstones that future generations would improve on thanks to the innervations of those that came before. That being said, it was like owning a copy of the Mona Lisa. Sure, both were masterpieces in their own rights, but it didn't quite compare to owning the actual painting.
Furthermore, while he didn't classify it as a hobby, he did find it somewhat threptic to work on restoring vintage cars to their prime along with Glides and Dot, a teambuilding exercise as it were. Not only that but between the three of them they had even managed to design a few vehicles of their own, vehicles that they planned on introducing the rest of the world when the time was right.
"Noice!"
"You sure you want too?" Terry asked Six who in turn looked at him. "I mean it's a lot of work to do especially if Amy ends up crushing it if she wins the bet." He pointed out earning an offended squawk from Jake.
"How about you leave the jokes to the professionals, Sarge?" Jake told him with a sharp look getting a dull one back from Terry. "You've seen the score; do you really think that she's ever gonna catch me up let alone beat me?" Santiago beating him? Ha! That was rich!
"Why not?" Six asked him curious as to why he thought that Amy was incapable of matching him. "She's a fine detective." And it was true. From his observation of her there was no doubt in his mind that Amy was an accomplished detective and capable anything if she put her mind to it. That being said, her Achilles Heel was that she cared far too much what people thought about her...which while not ideal wasn't the worst flaw to have he guessed; certainly, better than his.
"She has her good days," Peralta begrudgingly admitted and even then it looked like it hurt him to do so. "But she's not on our level, if you catch my meaning." He added with a wink hitting Jericho's chest with the back of his hand only to recoil. "The hell are you made out of?"
"I'm afraid I don't." The Spartan said earnestly.
"Now, now, you don't have to be modest."
"What are you doing here Jake?" Terry cut him off and asked the question he wanted to ask since the moment he had arrived.
"Oh, that's a fine how'd you do." Jake held his chest in mock offence. "And to think that I came all this way to come and see you and this is how you act," He tutted and shook his head at the muscular Sergeant.
"Which I'm still trying to figure out why," Terry hurled back. "And how you managed to somehow wake up this early when you struggle to wake up for work every day."
"Well, Jokes on you I never went to sleep." Jake declared smugly. "So...who looks stupid now?" Upon seeing the flat look he received from Terry he wisely sped the conversation along. "As for why I here, well...I thought the three of us could work on our gains together." He added bringing his arm and started flexing in front of the two of them.
"I don't recall you ever working on your gains before."
"Per-lease," Jake spluttered out and averted his eyes as he tried to think on his feet. "I'm always working out, I just, I just, ummm, I prefer doing in the comfort of my own home is all."
"Is that right?" Terry challenged. "Which muscle do you work out the most?"
"Get a load of this guy?" Jake said to Jericho as he thumbed over to Terry. "I work out all of them, you know...like you're supposed too."
"Name one."
"Urgh, how can you name just one, amiright?" Peralta chortled clicking his tongue as he suddenly wished he could be anywhere but there.
"Name. One."
"Okay," Jake gulped with thin lips at the not-so-subtle demand. "Well...there...is...the..." He paused as he frantically tried to think of a muscle on the spot, unfortunately the only ones that came to mind were the ones you could buy at the Fish Mongers. "That reminds me I really do need to buy some fishfingers when I get the chance. Actually, now that I think about it...why're they called fishfingers anyway? Fish don't even have fingers...or do they?"
"We're wasting time." Jericho's stern voice pulled Jake from his thoughts regarding the fish and their fingers to see him looking at him. "If you're coming then let's go," He said as he walked around the side of his truck. "We've got a lot of ground to cover." He added as Terry walked around the other side.
"We have?" Terry asked as he opened the door and climbed into the truck just as Jake got back into the Mustang. Closing the door behind him, he heard a chattering and rattling noise coming from the Mustang as it struggled to start up; Jericho was really going to have his work cut out for him it would seem...assuming that the Mustang wasn't beyond saving
"Hmmm," Six confirmed as he started up the truck which unlike the Mustang powered up on the first attempt. Pulling out from behind the minivan, he stopped in the middle of the road and peered into his rear-view mirror to see that Jake was still struggling to start the muscle car. Waiting for a few more moments, he watched as the lights kept flickering on and off again before enough was enough.
"You got something in the back?" Terry asked feeling that the truck was a little sluggish as he pulled away.
"Wait here," Instead of answering, Jericho took off his seatbelt and got out of the truck and went off to help Jake. Once Jericho was gone, he began looking around the spacious vehicle to see that there was a large glovebox in front of him. Between the two seats was a shared armrest, and in the centre of the dashboard was a large screen that had several apps displayed; and under that was a flat tray with two cup holders.
"DAMN, JERICHO!" Terry exclaimed as he peered into the mirror and watched as the newest member of squad began casually pushing the Mustang into the spot behind his minivan without even breaking a sweat, if anything it looked like he was pushing around a shopping trolly rather than the what...one plus tone vehicle. Ohhh, he was really looking forward to getting some training done with him now.
Realizing that he still had the torch activated on his smartphone, Terry switched it off to save the battery and placed it on the tray so that it wouldn't fall out of his pocket while he was sitting down. The second that he did the screen suddenly lit up along with the words Wireless Charging. Damn, this truck really did have everything!
Before he could think too much about it the driver door opened, and Jericho got back into the truck and fastened his seatbelt just as Jake opened the backdoor and climbed into the back.
"Ohhh, very fancy." Jake praised as he shut the door and began putting his own seatbelt on. "Someone is doing well for themselves." He said as Jericho pulled away and headed down the street.
"What have you got planned for us then?" Terry asked only to suddenly hear a hissing sound coming from behind him. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Jake holding a can of Red Bull and resting in the middle seat was another couple of cans.
"What?" Jake questioned mid-sip. "Oh, you want one, my bad." He realized and went to grab one for him.
"No thanks, Jake." Terry politely declined as he turned back to face the front. "Just surprised that you're drinking them so early," Although in hindsight he really shouldn't have been considering his questionable diet; and he used that word very loosely.
"It's called an energy drink, Sarge, and what do we need when we're working on our gains? That's right, energy." Jake told him as he downed the Red Bull as if proving his point. "Umm, where can I stick this?"
"Don't tempt me," The Spartan thought to himself. "And today I want to gauge your stamina..."
"Woah, at least buy us dinner first." Peralta snickered at his own comedic brilliance, truly it was a gift...a wonderful and terrible gift that God had burdened him with.
"Wouldn't breakfast make more sense?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"You sure you're not related to Holt?" Jake grumbled in the back seat as he grabbed another energy drink. "Would certainly explain the two of you sabotaging my perfectly crafted jokes."
"Of course, we're related,"
"Say what now?" Jake blinked owlishly wondering if he had heard right or he was beginning to hear things because he was exhausted.
"As are we," Six continued as he drove through New York and headed out of the city. "All humans share a common ancestor." He added as he kept his eyes on the road.
"Explains why we're both so awesome then," Jake responded, rather liking the idea of being related the Jericho. Oh, what a pair they would make. Two badass detectives taking New York by storm as well as putting bad guys to jail and bad girls to bed. With Jericho by his side all the gorgeous women of the city would be theirs! They could call themselves, Double J.
"So where are we going?" Terry asked pulling Jake from his thoughts.
"There is this field I know that will serve our purposes."
"A field?" Terry repeated raising a brow as he glanced at Jericho. "I thought that we were going to the gym."
"As I told you I want to gauge your stamina...
"And I said..."
"Along with your endurance," The Spartan ignored Jake's interruption and continued. "And for what I have planned we need an open space." He told him getting Terry worked up as he punched his fist into the palm of his hand in excitement.
"Man, this is gonna be great!"
"Damn straight!" Jake agreed wholeheartedly as he cracked open another Energy Drink. "What a day it's gonna be, me hanging out with my two best friends!"
Deep within small, cramped basement that his friend allowed him to rent following his divorce, Charles shifted unfortunately on the thin mattress that was laying on the cold stone ground as a result of him only having enough money to scrape by since Eleanor was legally contracted to take 85% of his monthly salary; not only that but by law she also owned his dignity after signing it away.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Charles screamed at the top of his lungs as his eyes snapped open and sat up in his bed as he sensed that something was wrong, terribly, terribly wrong and somebody was trying to usurp his best friend from him.
"I SWEAR TO GOD YOU BETTER BE GETTING MURDERED DOWN THERE, CHARLES!" Eleanor shrieked at him, her voice running through the entire household.
"IT WAS JUST A DREAM, MY FRIEND!" A kinder voice told him from upstairs. "GO BACK TO SLEEP!"
"OKAY, SORRY FOR WAKING YOU." Charles apologised profoundly as he fell back onto his mattress and stared up at the dark, mould-covered ceiling. "GOODNIGHT, ELEANOR. I LOVE YOU.
"..."
"I LOVE YOU, HERCULES!"
"I LOVE YOU TOO, MY FRIEND."
"Come on Jake, wake up." Peralta heard a voice as he was shaken awaken from his peaceful slumber. Turning groggily to the source of the voice, he looked up half-baked as drool escaped the corner of his mouth to see Terry staring down at him.
"I don't wanna go to work today," And with that said, Jake turned back around and snuggled into the leather seat, giggling as he did. "Let Scully or Hitchcock do it or..."He promptly dozed off. "Ooooh, Jenny Gilderhorn, what're you doing here? What's that? You came all this way to see me? You shouldn't have." He giggled as Terry rolled his eyes at his dreaming friend. "What's that you still have braces?"
Stepping back from the snoring detective, Terry looked over to the side to see Jericho reaching into the trunk. It had taken them a little over an hour to reach the field after they had finally left New York and during that time the sun had risen turning the skies a rich blue.
"I don't think he's joining up," Terry voiced as he glanced over at Jericho who was standing by the cargo bed and pulled out a trap bar. "What have you got back there anyway?" His curiosity getting the better of him, he walked over and looked at the back of the truck where his eyes widened when he saw that it was filled with various workout equipment that Jericho had brought with him.
"DAMN!"
"Wha, wha, what's happened?!" Jake screamed out as he was woken up from his peaceful slumber. "Are we under attack?!"
"Morning sleeping beauty." Terry greeted, ignoring his crazy rantings having grown accustomed to it over the last eight years. "Finally decided to join us?"
"It's not my fault!" Jake claimed as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "The energy drinks lied to me they were supposed to keep me awake." He said through a yawn. "I'm tempted to write a strongly worded letter."
"Seriously?" Terry struggled to hold back a laugh. "You are going to write a letter?" He asked as Jake slowly climbed out of the truck.
"Now, now, Terry, no need to be rude." Jake chided as he let out yet another yawn. "I'm gonna get Santiago to do it, she loves doing that sort of thing." He added as he walked over to them and peered into the back of the truck. "Did you bring your whole gym with you or something?"
"No," Six answered as he piled a couple of weight plates on top of each other and lifted them up, when he did both Terry and Jake saw the truck raise slightly. "My gym is at home."
"You have your own personal gym at home?" Terry asked enviously as he also grabbed a few plates and followed Jericho while trying to imagine the size of the gym. "Man, you're so lucky." He'd kill for that, to be able to work out whenever he wanted without having to find the time on his busy schedule.
"Right," Jake chuckled nervously as he desperately tried to fit in, or at the very least impress Jericho enough. Spotting one of the weight plates, he reached for it and went to follow Jericho and Terry. "The hell?" He thought baffled as his arms trembled as he tried to lift the plate. "Stupid thing must be glued down." Hearing footsteps behind him, he stopped his pulling and glanced over his shoulder to see Jericho walking back.
Stepping up beside him, Six glanced at Jake wondering if something was wrong before shrugging it off and leaning into the back of the truck and lifted up several more weight plates with one arm and used the other to grab the weight sled.
"I must have loosened it for you."
"Loosened?" Six asked perplexed just as Terry walked back.
"It's not important," Jake dismissed waving his hand before spotting a ball that was running loose in the back of the truck. "I got it!" immediately he regretted it as he grunted when he learned that like with everything else that Jericho had brought with him the ball was super heavy; seriously, overkill much? Made him wonder if he was trying to compensate for something...but he thought it was best to keep his thoughts to himself.
Just because he lived dangerously didn't mean he was suicidal!
"Quick, out of the way!" Jake grunted brushing passed the two muscular detectives and waddled away with the medical ball in his arms.
"What was that about?" Terry asked only managing to hear the last part of the conversation.
"No idea."
After managing to set up the equipment, which had mostly been done by Six and Terry while Jake offered words of encouragement, the three of them stood in the centre of the field and listened as the Spartan both explained and demonstrated the course that had laid out for them. The more they heard the more excited that Terry got, as for Jake...well,
"This was a terrible mistake."
"First we'll start with the deadlift," Six voiced as he gestured to trap bar that had a couple of weight plates situated beside it. "And since you're not the most physically gifted,"
"Hurtful."
"We'll start you off with the lighter weights," Six explained looking directly at Peralta. "How does 100lb sound to you?"
"It sounds great!" Jake squeaked out as he looked between Jericho and the weights that almost seemed to be mocking him. "In crazy land!"
"You've got this Jake," Terry encouraged giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder...which felt more like a punch to him as he winced. "It's 45kg, it's nothing." He added getting a nervous laugh from him.
"Yep!" Jake popped the P. "It's nothing, not a thing, nope! Nut-ting," He practically sang out. "I mean sure that like what, over a hundred bags of sugar but who's counting right?" He forced a laugh as Terry gave him another encouraging pat on the shoulder.
"That's the spirit, Jake!"
"After that," Jericho's continued pulling focus back onto him. "It's two-hundred-meter sprint and back," He gestured to the area that they had marked off signalling two hundred meters that looked more like a mile to him. "Then once you get back, you're to drop and begin doing push-ups,"
"How many?"
"As many as you can within a hundred and twenty seconds," Six told Terry getting a nod from the man. "Each time I'll count both the time and the number you manage." He explained to them both.
"YOU'LL COUNT?!" Jake blurted out. "Wait, why is that the bit that surprises me?"
"When your time is up, you'll grab the ropes to the weight sled and drag it across the field and back to the starting life and we'll begin again, each time increasing the weight." Six finished, once again getting Terry worked up as he began bouncing on the spot with a grin that threatened to split his face in two.
"Let's do this!"
"I'm as eager as you, Sarge." Jake lied through his teeth. "That being said, how about Jericho gives us a little demonstration? You know, so we don't get it wrong...I mean we'd all look pretty dumb wouldn't we if we weren't doing it right." He laughed loud and hard.
"Fair enough." Six nodded, acknowledging the wisdom of his words. After all, if you weren't going to do the job right then don't do it at all.
Walking over to where the trap bar was placed, Six stood in the middle, grabbed the bars and started lifting it. "We'll have three attempts to deadlift," He explained as he lifted the trap bar. "The first two being more of a warmup while the third is the one that counts." Placing the bar back on the ground, he shot forward and darted down the field leaving both Jake and Terry speechless.
"Woah! Look at him go!" Terry hollered as he watched as Jericho tear down the field with superhuman speed. What should've taken around 22-27 seconds, Jericho was already on his way back on the seven second mark once again flooring him with his physical process. If them training together was going to become a normal thing then maybe he too would be able to match him in time.
"Run Forrest, run!" Jake called out just as Jericho returned to the starting line and dropped to the ground in front of them.
"Two minutes." Six ignored Jake's witticism and started on the push-ups once again amazing the two as he sped through them and showed no signs of breaking a sweat as his arms became blurs.
"DAMN, JERICHO!" Terry blurted out as he counted how many that he did within two minutes and by the time that he was done he had a hundred and twelve, leaving them both flabbergasted.
Jumping to his feet, Six rushed over to the weight sled and grabbed the ropes attached and began dragging it back across the field, again showing no signs of slowing down anytime soon as Terry and Jake watched as he disappeared down the field leaving them alone.
"Terry, I've made a terrible mistake." Jake whispered once Jericho was out of earshot. "I can't do this."
"How do you know unless you try?" Terry asked as he kept his eye on Jericho who was already making his way back. "Get out of your comfort zone for once."
"But I like my comfort zone," Jake whined. "It's comfy...it's why it's called a comfort zone." He said just as Jericho reached them dragging the weight sled across the line.
"You ready, Jake?" Six asked dropping the ropes and turned to look at him.
"How aren't you even sweating?" Jake asked looking him up and down and true to his word there wasn't a single bead of sweat on him nor was he even panting. "You just ran like a mile."
"A mile?" Terry made a face as he stared at him. "You're way off there, Jake."
"Po-tato, Per-tato," Jake grinned waving him off; seriously, he was too tired to do math. "But enough about all this jazz, let's get this show on the road." He added with a smile as he walked past them, once he did his smile fell and he silently began sobbing as made his way over to the weight-thingy.
"Alright Jake, stand in the middle." Six instructed Peralta as he stood on one side and Terry stood the other. "Remember to bend with your knees not your back," He advised as he and Terry began removing the weights until a 100lbs remained on the trap bar.
"This isn't my first rodeo,"
It was in fact his first rodeo.
Bending his knees like he was instructed; Jake grabbed the handled and rolled his shoulders. "Remember to breath, Jake." He heard Terry advise making him roll his eyes. How stupid did he think he was? Like he would suddenly forget how to breath. Breathing deeply through his nose, his entire body tensed up as he lifted up the weight bar...or at least a tried too.
A high-pitched scream escaped from the back of his throat making both Terry and Jericho cringe as his entire body trembled and veins that he didn't even know he had popped out as he used every ounce of strength, he had to lift up the weights; but most of all impress the latter.
"Come on Jake, dig deep I know you can do it." Terry encouraged as Jake started sobbing openly.
"I am digging!" Jake screamed at the top of his lungs. "I've given you all I've got, boss! It can't be done!"
"I'm sure they said the same about John McClane," Despite his struggle, Jake turned his head to look at Jericho when he had mentioned the greatest hero of all-time.
"You watched Die Hard?" Jake would've been dancing for joy if he wasn't currently being tortured to death by the ungodly weight that he had been forced to lift.
"A quick synopsis." Six said earning a blank but tense look from the struggling detective. "Personally, I prefer Nothing Lasts Forever, the book it is based off." He confessed getting a dirty look from him.
"Rot in hell you sonofabitch." Jake spat before his eyes rolled into the back of his skull and his world went black; thankfully he was caught before he could hurt himself.
"I'll admit, I was expecting more than that from him." Jericho remarked as he held the unconscious Jake in his arms who was sleeping like a baby. "Is this what the rest of the squad is like?" He asked as he dragged him away and placed him over to the side.
"Unfortunately," sighed Terry as he watched Jericho carefully placing Jake on the ground.
"I see," Six hummed. Something was going to have to be done about that and fast. Cops that struggled to complete the most basic of drills was unacceptable. Forget the other precincts, if the city learned of this the NYPD would be a laughingstock. If they were a laughingstock, then their name would no longer command respect and everyone would soon start walking over them and chaos would ensue.
And that was something he could not allow.
"You ready?" Terry was a little taken aback by the change of his voice which had become tighter, unwelcoming even to the extent that he was speaking to another person. "Then let's begins." He declared once he got a nod from Terry and began running up the line as the two started on their training.
Dark eyes fluttered as sunlight bled through the window and struck him in the back of the eyelids was Jake finally returned to the land of the living. Blinking to rid himself of the haze, he found himself in the back of the truck. Groaning as he sat up, the noise drew the attention of the two at the front of the truck.
"Look who finally decided to join us." Terry laughed merrily as he looked over his shoulder revealing his sweaty bald head.
"Hmmm, what happened?" His voice was hoarse as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Did I do it?" He asked as he looked out of the window to see that they were back in the concrete jungle that he affectionally called home.
"No," Jericho spoke up. "You passed out without even managing to do a single deadlift." He said nonchalantly getting a flustered look from Jake who ducked his head.
"Well in my defence, I have a bit of a dicky stomach."
"Must have been all those energy drinks."
"Yeeeeees!" Jake's dark eyes lit up and decided to go along with it. Hehehehe, sometimes his genius was almost frightening. "That was exactly it."
"Hmmmm,"
Jake shuddered when he heard his hum. No lie, it was like Robot Captain had suddenly appeared...hold up, if Holt was Robot-Captain, did that mean that Jericho was Robocop? His eyes lit up as his imagination ran rampart. Oh, that was good. His train of thought was halted as felt the truck slowing down. Peering out of the window, Jake saw that they had arrived at Terry's and pulled up outside his house and beside his sweet Mustang.
"Thanks for today, Jericho." Terry thanked as took off his seatbelt once the truck had stopped. "I'm definitely gonna be feeling that for a few days." He chuckled opening the door and got out, groaning as he moved. "That Mendez sure knew how to get results."
"That he did," Six agreed thinking fondly of his father-figure.
"I guess I'll see you both Monday morning," Terry remarked before his eyes drifted over to Jake. "Don't be late." He warned him, even if he knew it would ultimately fall on deaf ears.
"Whatever you say, Dad." Jake snarked back as he went to take off his seatbelt, only to groan as his entire body began to ache from head to toe. "I think you broke me...Title of your sextape." Despite the pain, he couldn't stop himself.
"How?" Terry stared incredulously. "You didn't even lift it off the ground before passing out."
"Bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, I blacked out," Jake stressed. "I blacked out...and secondly, are you body shaming me? If so, shame on you. I excepted better from you, Terry. Especially since you're now a father, you're meant to be setting an example for them. Be better."
"And on that note," Terry sighed feeling a headache beginning to come on. "Enjoy your weekend, Jericho." Bidding farewell to him, he walked away from the truck and headed up his driveway to his home.
"Shotgun!" Jake exclaimed as he climbed through the truck and squeezed through the gap between the two chairs.
"Wouldn't it be easier to just," Six started to say before giving up as Jake squeezed through the gap and plopped himself down in the seat next to him and looking rather pleased with himself. Massaging his eyelids, he felt a headache beginning to form as he was forced to deal with his buffoonery. How was it that a man that was older than him still acted like a child?
"Do you still want me to fix it?" Six asked nodding in the direction of the Mustang.
"Hell yeah I do!"
"Very well," Six said smoothly as he switched the engine off and unfastened his seatbelt. "Let's get it connected shall we."
Once they had connected the GMC and the Mustang via the towing cable and driven across the city, Six pulled up outside of Jake's apartment that was located deep within Brooklyn which had once belonged to his deceased grandmother.
"Are you sure you'll be fine getting to work on Monday?" Six asked as they stopped outside of the apartment. While he doubted that it would take long to restore the Mustang to its former glory, until he could get a better look there was no point promising that he would have the car returned to him by the start of next week.
"Don't sweat it," Jake played it off as cool as a cucumber. "If it done it's done, if it's not whateves." He said getting out of the truck and dropped down to the road, only to groan as he felt the aches and pain running throughout his body. "But if you want to add a few extra key features..."He trailed off suggestively.
"Extra key features?"
"Yeah, like the headlights dropdown to reveal a set of Gatling guns to mow down criminals."
"Wouldn't that be counterproductive?"
"Fine," Jake bitterly relented. "What about instead of bullets they fire tranquilliser darts that simply knock out the suspects?"
"Too many would kill them."
"Urgh, why have you got to bring logic and realism into this? Can't you just let me dream?"
"..."
"Has anyone every told you that you look a lot like a statue?" Jake asked after finding himself on the receiving of the flat look that Jericho gave him, one that was often on the Captain's face whenever he was talking to him. Seriously, how were those two NOT related?
"Yes."
"Doesn't surprise me," commented Jake. "Alright, forget the Gatling guns. How about some NOS?"
"NOS?"
"You know what they use in the Fast and Furious films."
"Never heard of them."
"What?!" Jake felt like he had just slapped across the face. "You know, Fast and Furious. Family," Six raised a brow curious why he was putting on a deep voice. "Seriously? Wait, I've got an idea!" He declared eureka moment as his eyes lit up and he grinned wildly. "Fast and Furious marathon. You, me, and the rest of the squad watching Dom defeating his enemies with the power of family..."
"Sounds ridiculous."
"Then I'm not telling it right," Jake responded oblivious to the fact that Six had no intention of watching a movie let along several of them with him. "It starts off with Brian Spilner who is actually an undercover cop for the LAPD called Brian O'Conner..."
"Why wouldn't he change his name if he was undercover?"
"That's not important."
"I disagree. Sounds like a major plot hole."
"It's a movie, it's not meant to make sense. It's just a bit of dumb fun." explained Jake, seriously it wasn't difficult. "Now as I was saying, it starts off with Brian who is a devilish rogue like yours truly who is tasked with infiltrating the street racing scene to discover who is behind a series of hijackings but ends up falling in love with the prime suspects sister..."
"He allowed himself to become emotionally compromised?"
"Trust me, Mia was something else in the first movie." Alas, before he could talk about how hot Jordana Brewster was in the first movie and still was for that matter, a horn blared behind the truck as several cars that built up behind them as they had been talking. "Whoops, my bad. I should let you go before they try to kill either of us." He said getting a nod from Jericho as he closed the door and pulled away without so much as a word.
"Rude," Jake pouted as he was forced to watch as his beloved Mustang was dragged away. As it got further and further away, it was almost like it was calling for him, crying out for help and promising that she would be a good girl and never misbehave again if he didn't make her go with the mean man. "I hate goodbyes," He held back the tears as he breathed through his nose and turned away so he wouldn't show weakness.
Entering his apartment and heading up the large flight of stairs, he reached the floor that he lived on only to be taken aback when he saw somebody standing by his door with their arms folded across his chest.
"Charles?" Jake asked surprised at seeing his friend standing there. "What are you doing here?"
"Really?" To say that Jake was a little taken aback by the bitter tone would be an understatement. "That's all you've got to say for yourself?"
"Did I do something wrong?"
"I know, Jake." Charles voice was a deathly whisper earning a gulp from his best friend.
"I don't follow..."
"HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME, JAKE?! I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL, SOMETHING REAL."
"Charles, keep it down." pleaded Jake through gritted teeth knowing from experience that the walls in the apartment had ears, lots and lots of ears. "You've got the wrong idea."
"No, I haven't," Charles shook his head. "I felt it, felt it in my soul."
"If you would just let me explain,"
"It's too late for that,"
"Charles! He means nothing to me!" Jake swore as Charles brushed past him and stormed down the stairs just as a door creaked open to reveal one of his neighbours that shook her head at him.
"Shame on you Jacob, breaking that poor man's heart like that...what would your grandmother say if she could see you now?
"You're not helping, Joan!" Jake cried out as he rushed down the stairs and pursed after his emotional best friend who was surprisingly quick on his feet when he wanted too. "Charles, come back!
And cut! Well, here is the next chapter for The Demon of the Nine-Nine. I hoped you all enjoyed it and sorry for the long wait. I've had several drafts for this chapter hence why I haven't uploaded for so long. The first was with Jake, Amy, Rosa, Gina, Charles, Hitchcock and Scully looking through Six's profile where they would see his list of achievements, the fake backstory regarding his personal and military background, and him being diagnosed with PTSD...
That idea was scrapped since I want to keep his past hidden for the time being.
Then I had it where Six and Terry went to the gym alone but scrapped that. Then had it where they went on a hike instead, then changed it back to the gym, before finally changing it for what you saw in this chapter.
It might have seemed like I was rushing this chapter, and in many ways, I was since I wanted to get it out as soon as I can and move onto episode 3 which will take place next chapter.
Not much else to say other than let me know what you all thought regarding this chapter :)