Chapter Two - What About Us?

What about love,
What about trust,
What about us?

-x-

The walls were starting to close in on him. Jake could swear it. If it weren't for the very clear picture of the iron bars standing from floor to ceiling in front of him, Jake was certain that he would suffocate in what felt like his tight, airless cell.

He was pacing back and forth across the concrete floor in a bizarre attempt to calm himself, but Jake's breath was only shortening more and more with each anguished step he took. The harsh fabric of his orange jumpsuit was itching his skin so badly that it felt like there were termites aggressively chewing their way through his bones.

Jake was already going crazy. And he hadn't even made it to prison yet.

Peralta was still locked up in utter uncertainty in the courthouse's holding cell. He was waiting to be transported to what would become his new long-term residence. The thought of it all made Jake shudder. He had made the trip across the bridge and over to the island a million times before - to follow up on a fresh lead or to interview a prisoner. But he had never stayed any longer than an hour or two. This time when Jake arrived at Rikers, he wouldn't be leaving for fifteen years.

Just when he was starting to think that his ever-nearing future was going to make him puke up all his emotions throughout his cell, Jake suddenly jumped at the sound of the heavy door at the end of the corridor creaking open. He was still for a moment, but when he heard the guard's deep voice direct someone to where his cell was situated right at the end of the hall, Peralta could only roll his eyes.

Surely it was going to be Boyle here to see him. Again. In the four nights between the conclusion of his and Rosa's trial and the day of their sentencing, Charles had visited his partner at least eight times. It was beginning to frustrate Jake to no ends. But, of course, his annoyed exterior was actually nothing more than a poor facade that covered how truly worried he was for his best friend. If Boyle couldn't even last half a week without seeing Peralta, then how was he possibly going to handle...

Right before the taunting thought could fully creep it's way across his mind, Jake suddenly sensed the nagging activity in his brain come to a complete standstill. The figure that stepped out of the shadows of the dimly lit room made his jaw drop open.

Jake desperately tried to ignore the sensation of his heart skipping an impulsive beat. And as he licked his bottom lip, willing on enough moisture to find his voice, Peralta awkwardly cleared his throat.

"What are you doing here?"

It wasn't exactly the greeting that Amy had been expecting. The detective was thrown back slightly as she stumbled over the start of a response, shrugging her shoulders, "It's not like I've never seen a holding cell before."

Jake's expression remained solemn, "Yeah, you've just never seen one with me in it before."

The tips of Amy's nails dug into the palms of her hands as she nervously folded her arms over her chest. She had never heard her boyfriend grumble at her so stoically as he just had, but she supposed she wasn't particularly surprised. Amy recalled all too clearly that Jake had asked her not to come and see him while he was stuck in the torturous limbo between freedom and imprisonment. Visiting him in actual prison was going to be awful enough, he had argued - Jake didn't want to pile any unnecessary trauma on top of what was already a devastating experience for both he and Amy.

But, damn it, Amy didn't care. She wanted to see Jake. She needed to see him. She wasn't going to let him roll away in that God forsaken, grimy prison van without getting to say a proper goodbye to him. Not when she wasn't sure when she was going to be able to visit again.

Tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear, Amy offered a scoff tangled together with a soft giggle, "Wow, sounds like you're not even happy to see me."

His silent response instantly made her want to kick herself. Amy swallowed a harsh lump in her throat as she watched her boyfriend slump down on the bench at the back of his cell.

Jake was always the first person to lighten even the most inappropriate moods with a harmless joke. Always. But the metal bars that stood firm between them, preventing her from reaching for his hand to give it a teasing squeeze, quickly indicated that right now was probably the worst time to be cracking any kind of joke.

Amy's eyes fell to the dirty, concrete floor. For the first time in the two years that they had been together, she didn't have the first clue what to say to Jake. She knew what she wanted to do. She knew more than anything that all she wanted was to repetitively fire her gun at Melanie Hawkins' feet and force the slimy Lieutenant to dodge the shower of bullets like she was Dancy Reagan. But Amy also knew that wasn't going to help Jake right now. Jake, or Rosa.

At the abrupt re-emergence of her friend's name in her mind, Amy sensed a shiver race up her spine.

Her throat bobbed in another long swallow as she finally parted her lips again, "What you did for Rosa," she began through a mumble, "Doing what you did to reduce her sentence. That was amaz- "

Amy came to a skidding halt. She drew in a deep breath, trying to stop the tears from welling up in the corners of her eyes.

"Jake, you're amazing, you - "

"Amy, stop."

The three sharp syllables sliced right through her.

Amy narrowed her vision at Jake. He was still sitting down, frozen in his position at the back of his cell with his eyes absolutely fastened to his feet. His hands were clasped together tightly in his lap and his right leg was jiggling up and down with more nervousness than had ever crossed him.

The speed of Santiago's heart began to pick up. Peralta had barely uttered any more than the two words he had just spoken, and he certainly hadn't dared to properly exchange her glance.

What wasn't Jake saying to her?

"Babe?" she whispered silently between the iron bars, "What's... I mean, a part from the obvious... what's wrong?"

Jake's chest felt like it was on fire. He was bottling up so many overwhelming emotions that the extreme sense of guilt in his sternum was flaring up and burning the rest of his insides, as well. He couldn't bear the thought of sitting there and listening to Amy bestow so much undeserving praise on him for a second longer.

He wasn't amazing. He sure as hell didn't feel amazing. The next sentence threatening to dive off the tip of his tongue happened to taste the complete opposite to what Jake would describe as amazing.

"Amy..." he repeated, his head still facing down, "We... we can't do this..."

His words washed over her so swiftly that Amy only blinked.

"What do you - " she stuttered, "Jake. We talked about this. Babe, I know you're scared, and I know it's going to be hard, but the squad and I are not going to quit until you're out of here. It might take days, or weeks even, but it's not going to be years, Jake, it's - "

"And what if it is?" Peralta snapped in over the top of her, finally flicking his brown orbs up to meet hers, "Hawkins has an air tight case. One that we might not ever be able to poke any holes in. Fifteen years, Amy, I can't make you wait that long for me."

Jake's voice was ambling on the verge of desperation as he swallowed harshly.

"That's not fair on you."

Amy could barely believe what she was hearing. Forget about the damn case - Jake's words were poking holes in Amy as she tried to compose herself.

"And what about what's fair to you, hm?" she challenged, "You didn't do anything wrong, Jake, you're innocent, I'm not going to leave you, that's not fair on you."

"Amy - "

"No, no way, we are not even having this discussion," the detective interjected firmly. As she stood straight and held her shoulders back, Amy decidedly put her foot down, "I don't care if I have to wait fifteen years. If I can't buy a home with you and marry you and have kids with you, then I don't want to do any of that at all."

Jake's heart was coming a part at the seams. Every single future life event that he pictured spending with the woman before him who was listing them so sweetly made another small part of his soul chip away.

He wanted there to be something that Amy could say to him that would make him see the light at the end of the tunnel. Jake wished that there was. But what his girlfriend didn't know was that he had made his mind up hours ago. The very second that Rosa had declared her inability to make Adrian wait any longer for them to properly be together was the same moment Jake had decided the same for he and Amy.

She deserved more than that. Amy deserved more than Jake.

"Amy, you need to listen to me - "

"Jake, no. I am not writing up an entire alternate version of my life calendar because you want to take the easy way out and press pause on this."

Jake cringed inwardly all over again. Another teasing joke. Another promise of devotion. One joke and one promise too many for him to handle in that moment. He needed a way to make Amy understand the decision he had made. But, of course, the ever-so-stubborn Amy Santiago was never going to let her boyfriend sacrifice any more of himself than he already had that day.

And so, as the all consuming sense of terror he had been feeling all day only continued to seep further and further into his brain, Peralta finally snapped.

"Don't you get it?" he suddenly thundered, launching himself up from his seat, "This isn't me pressing pause on us, Amy, this is me dumping you."

The viciousness laced between his words slapped Amy hard across the face. The detective almost lost her footing for a precious second, grabbing onto one of the iron bars to hold herself up.

Amy had forgotten to breathe as her lungs abruptly exhaled and she shook her head, "You don't mean that."

Jake took a step towards the front of his cell, his mind a scrambled mess as he sighed, "Look, I was trying to let you down gently, but - "

"No, you're lying," Amy declared with a cynical chuckle of disbelief, "You don't want this. The only thing you're trying to do is protect me. But I don't want you to protect me, I want you, Jake."

It dawned on her that he was within her reach again as she stretched an arm through the bars and tried to take his hand in hers. The near contact made Jake's stomach twist up in knots as he ripped away from her.

"What did you think was actually going to happen with us?" he asked with cruel sarcasm, "What? Did you really think we were going to be together forever and live happily ever after? You've known me for almost eight years, Amy, I thought you would've figured out by now that I'm not exactly a commitment type of guy."

The toxic combination of the expression on Amy's face and the words carelessly falling from his own lips made Jake want to throw up. But still, he pushed on.

"You'd be wasting the next fifteen years of your life whether I'm with you or not. And then some. Go find someone else to be happy with."

Amy was defiantly holding herself together as she sniffled just once and absolutely glowered at Jake.

"You're full of crap," she spat at him, "Last week. We were at home. You took my hand and you looked me dead in the eye and you promised me that everything between us was going to be okay."

"That was the real lie," Jake snapped back without a second thought, "I asked you not to come, and now I'm telling you to leave. Do I need to spell anything else out for you?"

The first real sob finally cracked from the back of her throat as Amy threw her arms out to either side, "Yeah, maybe why the hell you were even with me in the first place?"

Peralta's filter slipped maybe a bit too far as his bottom lip curled up in a snarl, "Well, you put out on the first date, so that was a plus."

The venom from him was poison to her ears as Amy's guts heaved and she took the back of her arm to her face to wipe her eyes. The black mascara stains on her maroon coloured blouse were as dark as the clouds looming over her and Jake as she chewed down hard on her bottom lip and screwed her fist up in a frustrated ball.

"So, that's it? You don't love me anymore?"

The answer appeared in Jake's brain in the most micro fraction of a millisecond. But Amy was daring him to say anything different. Anything to contradict what she was smart enough to know was just another one of his cowardice facades he was using to cut all ties between them.

Maybe Amy was too scared to put herself first and try to move on and be happy without Jake. But Jake was definitely too scared to swallow his damn pride and just tell Amy the truth.

"No."

Her soul left her body, but somehow, Amy was still standing.

Santiago's eyes were fastened to Peralta's, but his appearance remained firm. A single, silent tear sprung from the corner of Amy's brown iris and rolled down her cheek.

"Well, congratulations," she hummed cynically, "You officially just became the one person whose footsteps you've desperately been trying avoid your entire life, Roger."

The insult was the worst thing she could have fired at him. The final word that rolled so spitefully off the end of her tongue threatened to crumble Jake's confident stance as his knees wobbled and he swallowed back a sob as hard as he could.

But luckily for Jake, Amy had finally heard all she could possibly bear.

"Enjoy rotting, Peralta."

Jake nearly bit his tongue completely off in his attempts not to call after her as she left. As quietly as Amy had appeared in front of his cell, the beautiful, smart, amazing, angelic love of his life slipped away into the shadows and out of sight. And in that moment - Jake wasn't sure if he would ever see her again.

The very second that he heard the heavy, metal door by the courtroom guard slam back into place, Jake twirled around on the spot and instantly sensed the pained tears pour down his face. He balled up his right hand, letting out a single, agonising scream as he thrashed his fist into the solid, concrete wall of his cell. His shouting only intensified as he felt three of four different bones in his knuckles completely shatter. But Jake didn't care. No amount of physical harm he caused to himself could possibly substitute what he was feeling deep inside.

As he took his opposite hand to his right wrist and clutched at it, trying to will away the searing, repetitive throbbing, Peralta spun around again, his back glued to the wall. A tear soaked cry of unimaginable mourning broke loudly through his mouth and his nose as he slid down the cold, gray wall all the way to the floor.

And with his head between his knees, and his legs curled into his chest, and his heart broken into a million pieces on the ground all around him, Jake's body silently wracked with a thousand more inconsolable sobs.

If a string of bank robberies was a fifteen year jail term, then losing Amy was a death sentence.

Friday, Aug 25th, 2017
Day One

When Gina glanced down at the tiny clock in the corner of her monitor for about the sixth time in two minutes, she let out a mumbled groan under her breath. The fiery red head could swear that time was almost going backwards.

"Just two more weeks till maternity leave," she muttered quietly to herself, "Two more weeks, two more weeks..."

Her muted ramblings were suddenly cut off by the sound of her desk phone ringing out loud where it sat by her keyboard. The noise made her jump so high in her seat that she felt her baby roll around in her tummy. As she regained her breath and instantly recognised the extension number on the small screen, Gina peeked over her shoulder to the office situated behind her before picking up the receiver.

"Captain?"

"Gina, a moment of your time?"

Raymond's words were short and sharp and concluded quickly as he cut off the call with his assistant. Gina stared blankly at the phone for a moment before gingerly coming to her feet. Her right hand ran comfortingly over her stomach while she nudged open Captain Holt's door with her opposite arm and stepped into his office.

Holt looked up at her as she did, instantly gesturing for her to shut the door behind her and take a seat. He took another couple of silent seconds, his eyes darting back down to the screen of his laptop to carefully save a couple of documents to his flash drive.

As he pulled the thumb drive from its slot and tucked it safely into the breast pocket of his navy coloured jacket, Raymond looked back to Gina.

"Gina," he started simply, "How are you, how are you feeling? Has your baby's head started to descend to the lower half of your uterus yet?"

Outwardly cringing at her captain's ever-so-awkward attempts at breaking the ice, Gina shook her head, "Hm, yeah, no - we can skip over the check up, Captain, that's fine."

"Very well, then allow me to cut straight to the point," he spoke, shutting the lid of his laptop and leaning back in his chair, "Now, I mean no offence by this, Gina, but would you agree it would be a fair assessment to describe you as somewhat of a gossip mogul?"

"Mhm, absolutely, no offence taken," Gina instantly replied, "I could put TMZ out of business if I really wanted to."

Holt nodded his head along with what his assistant was saying, though, Gina wasn't sure if he entirely understood what she meant. Choosing to push right on without making any more heinous pop-culture references, Captain Holt clasped his hands on top of his desk.

"I'm hoping you can get me up to speed with how the rest of the squad are reacting to Peralta and Diaz being transported to their respective prisons yesterday? How is the team's current state of morale?"

Gina's ginger tinted eyebrows abruptly collapsed into a bewildered frown.

"Morale? Uh, sir, no offence," she parroted him carefully, "But the squad is a complete mess! Terry hasn't professed his love for any obscure hobby or inanimate object in over a week. Charles' hair is turning whiter by the day - I mean, my baby is already going to be confused about whether he's an uncle or a cousin, but if his dramatic, stress-induced aging keeps up, they might actually start to think Boyle is their grandfather. And as for Scully and Hitchcock - "

Before her intense ramblings could continue any further, Gina suddenly cut herself off. Her mind turned blank as she slouched back in her chair and shrugged her shoulders, "Actually, Scully and Hitchcock are acting no different, I'm not even sure they've noticed that Rosa and Jake are gone."

Of each analysis she provided, this final statement was definitely the most believable. The mood in the usually vibrant bullpen may have dropped by a thousand decibels since Diaz and Peralta's arrest, but of course, the precinct's two longest serving detectives were none the wiser.

Unlike Hitchcock and Scully, however, Captain Holt always remained on high alert in every situation. And he certainly hadn't failed to notice Gina's seemingly conscious decision to only detail two-thirds of their close knit squad.

"How about yourself?"

The question made Gina's breath hitch in the back of her throat. She hadn't expected Holt to ask her about herself. Gina wasn't sure if she had even properly considered herself.

The guilty verdict placed upon her friends had shaken her just as badly as it had the rest of the Nine-Nine, maybe even more so. She and Rosa had become oddly close throughout their years together on the squad. Well, as close as Rosa would allow anyone to become with her, anyway. But then, of course, there was Jake.

Gina felt her heart thump sadly in her chest. Each of her oldest memories, even from all the way back in elementary school, were tied in some way to Jake Peralta. They had seen each other go through so much throughout their life and their friendship. The thought that sat with Gina of Jake smoothing things over with his dad, and meeting the love of his life, and finally being happy, only to have it all viciously ripped away from him made her want to go on a flame-thrower induced rampage through Hawkins' office.

It was only when she felt her baby lightly kick her stomach that the red head blinked, snapping out of her dismal thoughts.

Gina took a subtle glance down, placing her hand back on her tummy. As much as it was killing her, she couldn't allow anything with work, or Hawkins, or Diaz, or Peralta to shift her focus from what was now the most important thing in her life. She loved Jake, but Gina loved her baby more.

"I'm okay. I'm just concentrating on the next six weeks and trying not to think about the next fifteen years," she explained, gesturing to the lump under her shirt.

Raymond nodded his head in understanding. He was relieved his assistant had the impending arrival of her new son or daughter to properly distract her from whatever else she may have been feeling - seeing as how she was unable to provide any qualified detective work to Jake and Rosa's case.

But Holt wasn't sure if the same could be said for the final member of his squad.

Nervously licking his bottom lip, Raymond cleared his throat, "And, Santiago?"

Gina fell to an immediate hesitation.

"Uh..."

Before she had the chance to emit any more than her incoherent murmurs, both Gina and her captain suddenly jumped and shifted in their seats at the sound of some abrupt shouting echoing from the bullpen.

It took them a short second to decipher what exactly was going on, but as soon as he recognised Amy's voice bouncing in anger off the four walls of his precinct, Captain Holt sprung to his feet.

It was certainly not uncommon knowledge that Amy Santiago has the tendency to be a bit of a stress-head. She stressed about her perfect work ethic, she stressed about what other people thought of her - hell, she spent every morning stressing about whether the colour of her socks visibly clashed with the colour of her pantsuit.

But if there was one thing Amy never stressed about, it was an uncooperative perp. Unhelpful criminals were simply a whole new case to crack - people from whom she could take some level of enjoyment out of manipulating and convincing to talk.

Although, Amy wasn't exactly taking much enjoyment out of any part of her life in that moment.

"Maybe spending a night in a cell will make you want to tell me your name, you little punk!"

The strangled groans of pain from the teenager whose arm was currently being wrenched behind his back by a fiercely impatient Detective Santiago made Holt's jaw drop to the floor.

"Ah! My wrist!" he cried out, "You're gonna' break my wrist, you bitch!"

Amy clutched on tighter, dragging the boy towards the precinct's holding cells as she rapidly whipped out her baton, "You want to add a broken knee cap to that list, too?"

"Santiago!" Terry called to her, "What in the hell are you doing? Let him go!"

Spinning around on the spot and tearing the kid along the tiled floor with her, Amy's mouth turned up in a snarl, "I pulled him in off the street this morning for spraying graffiti on the side of the public library, and he won't tell me his name!"

"He's just a kid, you psycho," Gina spat, bravely taking a step towards her colleague, "I'm pretty sure I'm the only one around here with a legitimate excuse to turn into an unpredictable, hormonal monster."

Amy still appeared furiously tense as Gina approached her. The sight caused eleven or twelve new white hairs to stand up on the back of Charles' neck as he crossed the bullpen right beside his step sister, "Okay, okaaay, let's all just stay calm and - "

"Oh, relax, Boyle," Gina cut him off, "She knows I could still kick her ass if I wanted to."

There was an all too obvious reluctance in Amy's stance for a moment longer as she resisted Charles' attempts to take her young prisoner off her hands. But with each extra set of concerned eyeballs that landed on her from every corner of the precinct, Santiago eventually felt her grip on the boy's arm loosen.

Her cheeks burned the faintest shade of an embarrassed red as she finally sensed he fingers uncurl from around his bicep and she watched Boyle lead the kid over to his desk instead. Amy sighed to herself, retracting her baton and reaching behind her head to sheepishly scratch the back of her neck. Just as she felt the slightest pinch from her nails against the soft skin at the top of her back, Amy suddenly sucked in a shallow gasp as Gina grabbed a hold of her and began to drag her towards the break room.

"Here. Now," Gina commanded, pushing Amy ahead of her and making sure to close the door behind them.

The brunette remained silent and had her back turned to the red head with her arms crossed over her chest. It was Gina's turn to sigh as she mulled over a different sentence or two in the back of her mind.

"Are you trying to get written up for police brutality and have your butt thrown in jail, too?"

Amy's renewed sense of calmness instantly shattered all around her as she about faced and glared daggers at Gina, "Is this all just one big joke to you?"

"What?" Gina challenged with a snicker, "Two of my best friends being locked up for a crime they didn't commit, trying to keep my weirdo brother from dropping dead of premature aging, stopping my friend's crazy girlfriend from spiralling out of control, all the while being thirty-four weeks pregnant? No, Amy, I can't exactly say I'm having a delighted giggle at any of that."

Santiago fell back to an ashamed speechlessness. First of all, she thought to herself, she wasn't Peralta's girlfriend. Not anymore. Secondly, she wasn't an idiot. Amy knew that she obviously wasn't going to be the only member of her team suffering from the events of the last twenty-four hours. But as her fist continued to scrunch up into a tight ball, Amy knew for a third fact that there was no way in hell anyone else was hurting as much as she was.

"Look, everyone's just super worried about you, okay?" Gina spoke a little more gently, "I mean, his sentencing was only yesterday, no-one was expecting you to even be here today."

The subtle mention of her boyfriend - ex-boyfriend, made Amy shudder.

"But no-one's blaming you. Jake's an ass," the assistant spat blatantly, "He's an asshole who did an asshole thing in an asshole way. And, ya' know, mad respect for just trying to move on like nothing happened, or whatever. But no-one expects you to do that, either."

The tips of Amy's extremities began to tingle as she felt her insides go numb. Gina was the first person brave enough to speak Jake's name out loud in her presence since he had done what he did.

"Holt said you could take as much time as you needed, so stop trying to prove a point and just go home, Amy."

Santiago's body weight shifted as her shoulders dejectedly slouched back. It was a little confronting to hear someone be so straightforward with her when everyone else she knew had been tip-toeing around her for the past week. There was certainly nothing like a stern reality check to snap her out of her pitiful slump, and there was no-one better than Gina Linetti to serve up a dose of said reality check.

Amy's mind began to cycle again as her emotions continually bounced between sadness and anger. She licked her bottom lip, opening her mouth to speak, but before she could offer Gina a response, the two colleagues suddenly jumped at the sound of the door to the break room swinging open.

"Santiago?"

Captain Holt's tone was as blank and nondescript as ever.

"My office. Now."

Amy would have swallowed nervously if she had the moisture to do so. Or if she cared enough about whatever Holt was going to say to reprimand her. Somehow, her captain's praise and approval wasn't exactly perched where it normally sat at the very top of her priority list.

Her silent walk to Raymond's office was accompanied by a supportive nod from Gina before the two of them left the civilian administrator at her desk. Amy slouched down in one of the two chairs in front of her captain. She couldn't deny the feeling of her heart rate creeping up in even the slimmest amount of nervous anticipation as she watched Captain Holt slowly circle his desk before finally sitting in his own seat.

Raymond paused for a moment, clearing his throat.

"The young man you brought in this morning is speaking with Detective Boyle right now. You'll be lucky if his parents don't decide to press any charges against you."

Amy remained completely unmoved, daring to keep her eyes locked with Holt's as she sat back and looked on at the cogs in his brain turning over. When she didn't even offer him so much as a flinch, Raymond sighed, exasperated.

"Amy, what are you doing here?"

His question threw Amy a little off guard as the confidence in her expression drooped.

"I can't work on their case and get them out of jail if I'm sitting at home feeling sorry for myself."

"Well, while that may be true, you also aren't going to be able to secure Diaz and Peralta's freedom if you continue to push yourself through your instabilities and work as recklessly as you have been this morning."

Amy's jaw stiffened as her teeth clenched, "I had one little slip up with some bratty kid, sir, that's all it was. There is nothing wrong with me," she argued, "Everything is fine, as long as no-one gets in my way, and maybe if I can talk to the judge again and have him reconsider, then everything will be fine and - "

"No, you're not fine," Holt sharply interjected, shaking his head, "Denial, anger, bargaining, sadness - you're grieving, Santiago, grieving for him because he's disappeared on you again. You shouldn't be going through that in your place of work."

A dull shudder rumbled in the depths of Amy's core. Grieving? Was she really being that pathetic?

"He's not dead, sir."

The icy coldness in her voice told Raymond everything he needed to know. Holt didn't agree with what Jake had done and said to Amy. Not in the slightest. But at the same time, their captain knew that Peralta's outburst was nothing more than a thoughtless, emotional reaction to the pure terror that was totally consuming him. And just as Jake had panicked about prison, Amy was now panicking about being on the outside without him.

But Raymond didn't agree with her thoughtless, emotional outburst, either.

"You're right - he's not. But perhaps your relationship with him will be, for good, unless you pull yourself together," he sniped harshly at her sarcasm, "Santiago, go home. That's an order."

Any resisted a shiver from her tail bone all the way to the base of her neck. Everyone on the squad knew about her and Jake's disgustingly messy break up. The detective wouldn't have been surprised if the gossip had made it all the way down to the beat cops by now.

Each and every time the words he had spoken to her echoed across her mind, or a miserable image of him behind bars flashed through her brain, Amy's stomach heaved.

She honestly wasn't sure if there was a single factor of their relationship worth reviving anymore.

Without muttering another word to her captain, and before her guts could twist and turn too much with any more thoughts of Peralta, Amy silently stood from her seat and marched towards the door of Holt's office. She didn't even stop to say anything to Gina or her other colleagues once she made it back out into the bullpen. She left her computer on, disregarded the half eaten toasted sandwich on her desk, snatched up her purse and cell phone, and made a beeline for the elevator.

As the automatic doors slowly began to shut in front of her, and the varying expressions of confusion and pity and sadness in each of her friends' eyes pierced right through her, Amy drew in a long, deep breath.

Shoulders back. Chin up. Don't cry.

Their apartment felt totally empty.

No amount of bright New York sunshine glistening through the open window could replace the light that had burned out when he left. No volume of Polish hot chocolate (or harsh whiskey, for that matter) could substitute the warmth she had come accustomed to just by his presence. No matter how many times she left Die Hard to play over and over again in the Blu-ray player, the sound of it couldn't fill her ears with the joy that the simplest, tiniest laugh from him could.

Only, this wasn't their apartment anymore. It was just hers. It was just Amy.

The air tasted slightly stale from the half a packet of cigarettes she had smoked her way through the night before. She gently closed the front door behind her, trying to resist the sensation of regret that washed over her from flushing the rest of them down the toilet before she could poison her lungs any further.

Then again, she had all but truly convinced herself that her work as a detective would be the catalyst to distract her from this or any other reckless behaviours. But now she had been sent home. She had been near enough physically thrown from the precinct, with nothing to return home to but zero distractions and a lonely apartment.

Wordlessly - well, not that she had anyone to talk to - Amy kicked off her shoes and slung her purse off her shoulder and onto the wooden floor. She clasped her hands behind the back of her neck, rotating the spinal structure in a circle to try and loosen her tense muscles. Huffing out a frustrated breath, she was beginning to wish she had snuck home some files so she could at least continue to look over their case in an attempt to stop herself from going stir-crazy.

Chewing down on her bottom lip in a moment of hesitation, Amy sighed again. Maybe she still had some cigarettes stuffed in the back of her wardrobe. Not that she needed them. Amy was fine. She was strong. She just wanted to check. You know - for future reference.

The detective tried to concentrate on every step she took towards her bedroom, every creak of every floorboard, every halfhearted beat echoing in her chest - anything to stop her from focusing on the dark, dismal thoughts that dwelled in the back of her mind. Amy swallowed hard as she took a timid peak around the corner of the bedroom door. The duvet was smooth and flat, the sheets were tightly tucked under the mattress, and the mountain of pillows was perfectly fluffed up.

She had slept on the couch last night. For obvious reasons. Not that she had really slept, anyway...

Quickly shaking her head to drag herself away from the unwanted memories, Amy shut her eyes for two seconds to brace herself, and then marched towards her wardrobe where it sat opposite her bed. The stride in her footsteps felt unwavered as a small, smug grin tugged at the very edge of Amy's lips.

She knew could do this. Santiago knew that Holt had over reacted when he banished her from the precinct and sent her packing for the day.

Amy was fine. There was nothing wrong with her.

She was fine.

She was totally fine.

Or, she was totally fine until she spied the corner of her life calendar poking out from behind her wooden closest.

Amy's breath immediately hitched in the back of her throat. She had completely forgotten that it had been moved from its usual place on the wall. The abrupt memory had her frozen in her place as she only stared at the thick, white piece of card that hauntingly glared back at her.

With all her previous thoughts of work, and Holt, and stupid damn cigarettes cleared from her mind, Amy reached a shaky hand forward and pulled out the calendar from the shadows. As she held onto it tightly, feeling her nails tear away slightly at the soft papers stapled to it, she went completely numb, her blood running cold from her broken heart.

Amy wasn't fine.

A gut-wrenching scream was all that teared through the four walls of her bedroom as Amy viciously ripped the over sized calendar right down the middle. Hurling the two separate pieces over her shoulders at opposite corners of the room, Santiago brought her hands to her face, dropping with a thud down to her knees.

Who did he think he was? Who the hell did Jake Peralta think he was? Amy shuddered as his full name flashed across her brain for the first time in twenty-four long hours. It didn't feel the same - any thought of him didn't evoke the same emotions that they had over the last two years. Her skin didn't tingle when she pictured the brave, kind, funny soul who had swept her off her feet. Her stomach only turned when she remembered the cruel, cowardly, sick jerk who had stomped on her heart in the dim lighting of a holding cell.

The shakiness from her hands began to travel across the rest of her body. Amy bit down hard on her bottom lip, choking back on a sob. How did she get here? How did she ever let herself fall for someone like Jake so goddamn hard? What was it that had finally tipped her over the edge and into his arms?

If only she hadn't waited for him when he was shipped off to witness protection in Florida. If only she hadn't ever asked him to move in with her, or they never bought that stupid new mattress, or she didn't break her own rule about sleeping with him on the first date, or didn't kiss him so many fake times while they were undercover, or didn't kiss him for real the very next day, or never made that goddamn felony bet with him in the first place...

If only Amy didn't love Jake more than she ever loved anyone before.

But even if all that weren't true, and all that had never happened, Amy knew it was absolutely hopeless. She knew she'd still love Jake. More than anything.

The realisation hit her like a tonne of bricks and kept her weighed down and glued to the floor of her bedroom. Her throat began to feel like it was completely closing up as she shuffled across the carpeted floor to lean her back into the end of her bed as she brought her knees to her chest.

Jake had left her. This time, he had really left her. And he wasn't coming back.

And then, doing the only possible thing she could will her mind and her body to do in that moment - Amy curled up on the cold floor of her empty bedroom, and she finally cried.

Chapter title and lyrics by P!nk.

Okay, so first of all, I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRY! I did warn you this wasn't going to be a sweet and happy time..

Please don't give up on Jake and Amy and think that all hope is lost... even though it feels like it is. Just know he only did it because he loves her!

It feels amazing to finally be back with a new chapter for this story! Feel free to leave me a fave/review to give me your feedback! I truly appreciate it! Be sure to stay tuned... the next chapter is where things may start to get even more interesting... ;)

Hope you all enjoyed as much as you could, considering the awful circumstances.. Hopefully I won't be gone as long between now and the next chapter.

Till next time guys,

Reneyyyyyyyyy x