Chapter Five - Second Chance.
Tell my mother, tell my father,
I've done the best I can,
To make them realise, this is my life,
I hope they understand.
-x-
Friday, Sept 1st, 2017
Day Eight
Captain Holt's office was quickly beginning to feel like a second home to her. Then again, she was almost certain she would be all too willing to curl up on the carpet under his desk and live out the rest of her days between the four cramped walls if it meant getting to stay away from her actual home for as long as humanly possible.
At least she wouldn't be needing to worry about the trivialities of her lonely, everyday life for the next few weeks. Or, more likely, the next few months. Or, potentially, the next few years...
"Santiago, do you follow?"
Amy blinked, shifting her vision from the glass window on her right back to her captain where he stood in front of his desk. She awkwardly cleared her throat, nodding her head just once.
"Yeah, sorry, I'm listening. Go ahead, sir."
Raymond remained stoically skeptical for a moment before he exchanged Amy's gesture with a nod of his own. He took a single step back, placing his hands in his pockets as he paced around his desk.
"I received the final copies of your official documentation from Chief Wuntch this morning," Raymond explained, taking a seat as he opened the manila folder by his laptop, "Michigan drivers license, birth certificate, health care fund, passport - "
"Passport," Amy repeated under her breath, "Do you really expect I'll be needing to use that one?"
Captain Holt shot his detective an understanding expression of sympathy, "Madeline and I have made sure to consider every possibility, no matter how daunting. Once you have successfully infiltrated Hawkins' crime syndicate, we need to be prepared for anything."
Amy kept her eyes glued to her captain's as he spoke, but the detective didn't offer any further response.
Daunting was certainly one word to describe the seemingly impossible mission she was now just days away from setting out on. The thought of inserting herself right into the chaotic centre of a gang of self-hating, so-called police officers was daunting enough, let alone the notion of being at their every evil beck and call, no matter where in the country or where in the world that happened to take her.
"I still can't believe Wuntch actually agreed to help us," the detective commented, trying to readjust the subject as best she could.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Raymond agreed simply, "Well, maybe not completely in Madeline's case. How does one truly befriend she who has no soul."
At this spiteful swipe, Santiago actually managed a snicker and a small smile. The moment didn't last long, of course.
Allowing her vision to drift down towards the unfamiliar documentation sitting in her hand, Amy curiously opened the front couple of pages of her passport. A shiver instantly shot up her spine at the sight of her new name staring back at her. When the detective envisioned one day changing her name, this was certainly not the result or the circumstance she ever imagined.
Although, as foreign as her new legal identity may have felt, it couldn't even begin to compare to the physical appearance of the woman in the small, square, doctored photo of herself.
Amy cringed. Everything she saw in this new version of herself mirrored exactly how much she had changed in the last week. And she had a feeling the biggest changes were still yet to come.
"I appreciate that all of this would normally require some time to adjust," Raymond suddenly spoke, snapping Amy from her dreary trance, "But, of course you understand we cannot be afforded much more time in this situation."
Blowing out a long breath from her nose, Amy snapped the passport closed and re-set her game face. Enough pieces of the Amy Santiago everyone knew and loved had already crumbled away over the last few days. Losing yet another part of herself couldn't hurt any more than the last week already had.
"You will depart Brooklyn on Wednesday, firstly stopping over in Columbus. Arrangements have been made for you at a local salon on Thursday to attend an appointment and have your physical appearance made over. From there, you will go onto Detroit where your operation will officially commence," Captain Holt explained. Reaching down to the bottom drawer of his desk as he continued to speak, Raymond revealed two black cell phones and a slim-lined laptop.
"One phone will act as your personal cell for your everyday use. The other, along with the laptop, will be your means of communication with me," he said, sliding the devices across the desk to her, "Everything is password encrypted, and they are not to leave your Detroit apartment - though, we should endeavour to remain in as little contact as possible."
Amy tried to stop her head from spinning with an overload of information as she quickly nodded in confirmation once more, "Got it, sir."
Captain Holt paused for a silent beat as he raised an eyebrow at his detective. The usually inquisitive Amy Santiago had remained awfully quiet during every stage of the briefing process. He knew she was nervous. It was only natural. Raymond just hoped that Amy wasn't second-guessing her capabilities that he was certain were still dwelling deep within her.
"And you're sure you're not having any second thoughts, Detective?"
The subtle tone of slight doubt from her captain was all Amy needed to snap out of her funk. Immediately shooting her head up to lock her expression onto his again, Amy's eyes narrowed with irrefutable determination.
There was only one thought that filled the entire contents of her brain.
Jake.
"I'm positive, sir."
The defiant words from her were the most confident he had heard since the brave declaration she had made three days ago. And if Amy had been looking to instill that exact same confidence in her captain, she had certainly done just that.
"You should journey to your parents' home this evening. You need to be spending this time with your family before your departure."
Amy was grateful to hear Raymond take her assertive stance at face-value, but the idea of seeing her family and having to explain to them in no definitive terms that she would be going away for a while left a lump in her throat.
She knew what she wasn't allowed to say. What Santiago hadn't considered just yet was exactly what she would say to her parents once she found the nerve to actually open her mouth.
"And..."
As the haunting images of tears on her mother's cheeks and fire behind her father's eyes continued to float across her mind, Amy found herself frowning at the unusual way Raymond's voice seemingly trailed off.
There was an acute hesitation painted clearly across his face as he clicked his pen against the wooden tabletop of his desk. It was an annoying habit that he truly despised within some of those whom worked beneath him. But, apparently, it seemed even the ever-unshakable Captain Raymond Holt could be forced to succumb to the immaturity of monotonous twitches when he was nervous. Especially when it came to his squad.
"And... what do you plan on telling the squad?"
There was no hiding the sigh that escaped Amy's lungs.
Her initial response all those days ago when Jake had been ripped out of her arms and out of her life may have been to shun any of her colleagues who even dared breathe his name in her presence - but that didn't mean for a second that Amy had stopped caring about the people who had become her second family over the last eight years.
She knew Terry was putting on a brave face in his best attempts to keep his detectives calm. She knew Hitchcock and Scully had both been working harder over the last week than they had over the entirety of the last thirty years. She knew that Charles was only one more piece of bad news away from a complete mental breakdown. And she knew she and Gina still weren't exactly on speaking terms...
But Amy was still worried about them. About all of them. And the last thing she wanted was to cause everyone even more distress than they were already suffering through.
"Nothing," she murmured, "Tell them nothing."
Raymond's dark eyes narrowed skeptically, "Santiago - "
"Sir, with all due respect," Amy cut in, "The squad has more than enough on their plate right now. I just want them to focus all their energy into cracking this case and getting Jake and Rosa the hell out of prison."
While her aggressive slip of the tongue would normally cause her cheeks to tinge bright pink in embarrassment - especially in front of her captain - Amy only pressed on with just as much certainty.
"I'd rather have them be mad at me than give them another person to worry about. Even if they think that I've quit on them, or quit on Rosa, or given up on Jake... it's all for the best."
Watching on as the selfish version of Amy from the past week continued to disappear right before his eyes, Raymond felt the smallest, most proud grin fall into the crease of his lips.
This wasn't about getting one up on the backward New York justice system anymore. This wasn't about proving Madeline Wuntch wrong anymore. Hell, it wasn't even about bringing Hawkins down as much as it was setting Rosa and Jake free, and knowing that Amy was the only person on the planet who could do just that.
This was about bringing every member of his squad back together again. And Raymond was just about willing to bet his life that it was now only a matter of time.
As the captain came to his feet, he straightened his navy jacket before reaching down into his pocket. Amy's curious eyes followed his movements and widened just slightly when Raymond held a set of keys out towards her.
"For your new apartment," he explained.
For a swift instant, Amy remained frozen, staring down the metal keys in her boss' hand. But then, in the next moment, Santiago stood from her seat, too. Her hand dived down into her own pocket, and as her fingers danced around the fake, plastic ring that still resided there, Amy latched onto the other item she could feel weighing her down.
Captain Holt was surprised when his detective produced a set of keys of her own. His mouth parted in slight confusion as he glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. Santiago offered him a small shrug.
"They're Jake's. For our apartment," she spoke quietly, "I just figured, you know, in case you need them in an emergency, or whatever."
The twinge of pain in her eyes at the thought of giving up another part of him was all too clear to Captain Holt. But still, without wanting to rub any more salt into the wound, he simply held out his left hand and gestured for Amy to exchange keys with him. He then extended his right hand for her to shake. And at the feeling of the mere contact, Raymond swallowed back a lump in his throat.
"Be safe. Be vigilant. Remember that no matter what happens to my position in this precinct or in the NYPD in the coming months, I will still be here for you to count on me until you've returned," he promised her, pausing for a slight beat, "And, if the danger persists or becomes too much for you to handle, there's no shame in feeling the need to walk away before your mission is complete."
Amy's jaw stiffened. Like hell she would.
"Won't be a problem, sir."
Holt stifled a chuckle under his breath. He truly expected nothing less from his best detective. Holding his hand up and jingling Jake's keys where they were hanging from his fingers, Raymond shot Amy a comforting sort of half-smile.
"I'll keep them safe for when he comes home."
Santiago felt her heart thump in her chest as she blew out a silent breath and glanced down at her shoes. Blinking away any emotion that threatened to spill over from her, Amy craned her neck back up and took one last look around her captain's office.
The impending moment had finally hit her, punching her hard in the gut as she gathered all the paper work on the desk in front of her and prepared to step back through the door for the last time in God knows how long. How much could one place really change in fifteen years, anyway?
"Well," she exhaled bravely, "I guess... this is goodbye."
Folding his arms over his chest, Raymond shook his head "I believe the youth of today prefer... see you later."
The detective's insides glowed with relief as the crack of a genuine smile finally fell into her lips. She nodded at Captain Holt, the single gesture communicating every ounce of thanks and gratitude and appreciation he would ever need to hear.
"Cya' later, Captain."
The sound of the door clicking back into place as she closed it behind her made Amy's chest deflate for a split second. Thank God her captain's blinds were still drawn, she thought to herself, because she wasn't sure if she was quite strong enough in that moment to turn back and give him one final glance.
The only thing she had to do now was make it across the bullpen and into the elevator without breaking down in front of her colleagues. And while Amy knew in her heart that her love for each person who sat in each desk in the large room would always be split completely evenly, Santiago also knew that slipping past some of those would be much easier than others.
Take Gina, for example. Captain Holt's PA was still yet to look up from the long screen of her phone, despite how long Amy had been frozen on the other side of Raymond's door. The trait wasn't unusual in and of itself, in any sense of the word. But Amy wasn't stupid, and she was well aware that Gina still wasn't exactly thrilled with the way she had been acting over the last week.
Taking a deep breath, and deciding at the last second it probably wasn't the best time to attempt any kind of apology, Amy instead shot a simple, soft smile at Jake's childhood friend and finally took a step past Gina's desk.
The next voice she heard was one that made her heart skip a sad beat.
"Wanna' grab a drink, Amy?"
Flicking her eyes up to the desk just across the room from hers, Amy had to hold down a laugh at the current state of Charles' hair.
Detective Boyle had definitely succeeded in shaving about a decade off his appearance, but the dye job he had attempted himself had turned his locks a little more golden-brown than he had probably been hoping for.
But of course, in typical Boyle fashion, Charles was taking it all in his stride. He certainly wasn't letting it interfere with how hard he was working on Rosa and Jake's case.
Sliding off her train of thought for a brief second, Amy blinked, raising an eyebrow towards Charles.
"Sorry?"
"Do you wanna' go down to Shaw's tonight and get a drink?" Boyle repeated, punctuating his offer with a defeated chuckle, "I'm sure Jake and Rosa won't mind if we take a couple of hours off to drown our sorrows."
Amy matched his cynical laughter, heaving out a long sigh. God, she was going to miss Charles.
"Maybe tomorrow night? I kinda' already had a date lined up with my couch, a pile of blankets and a bottle of wine."
The concerned frown that creased into Boyle's brow was instant as Santiago held a hand up to quell any anxiousness threatening to fizzle over from him.
"Seriously," she spoke simply, "Charles, I'm fine, I'm just looking forward to a little me-time, okay?"
It took another sharp moment of skeptical examination, but soon enough, Charles felt a small, understanding smile fall into his face as he nodded his head.
"Okay," he relented, picking up his bag and taking a step towards the elevator, "Well, maybe tomorrow night, then."
And somehow, Amy managed to keep herself together.
"Tomorrow sounds great. Cya', Charles."
Another breath. She was almost there.
Once Charles had vanished with a 'ding' from the elevator, Amy's eyes landed on the two seats directly behind his.
Hitchcock and Scully weren't there. They were manning their post up at Flaxton Hill Farms, still, like they had been all week. Their desks were cleaner than she was sure she had ever seen them, and the seemingly permanent butt grooves in their chairs had even begun to flatten back out. It all made Amy's chest swell with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
No matter how much it may have felt like it, Amy knew she truly wasn't alone in all of this.
"Santiago?"
Blinking in surprise at the sound of her name, Amy glanced over towards the last person there was for her to bid her subtle farewells to.
Terry's eyes pierced right back towards her own as he flicked through what looked to be the last couple of pages in a huge stack of paperwork. More dead-ends and false leads on Lieutenant Hawkins, no doubt - but Amy certainly wasn't going to mention anything.
As he narrowed his gaze at her, Sergeant Jeffords licked his bottom lip to speak, "You all good, Amy?" he asked, having spotted her standing by his desk frozen and staring off into space.
Without missing a beat, Amy smiled, "Mhm. I'm great," she stuttered for a second, "Well... you know what I mean. I'm good. I'm fine."
Amy knew she was a horrible liar. It was obvious - Jake used to tell her so all the time. But for some reason or another, it seemed that when the stakes were so incredibly high, Santiago was just as capable of holding a stern poker face as even her most stubborn criminals and perps.
Gesturing towards the elevator so as not to hold her up any longer, Terry clicked the top of his pen and went back to work as he grinned sympathetically at her, "Try to get some rest this weekend. I'll see you on Monday."
Amy's grip tightened around her handbag.
"Bye, Sarge."
This was it.
Of course the elevator was already patiently waiting at the fourth floor of the precinct for her as soon as Santiago raised a shaky finger to jab at the round, light-up button. Before she even had the chance to second guess her apparent vow of silence towards her secret mission, Amy crossed the threshold from the bullpen to the small, square box and jumped slightly as she heard the doors close behind her.
And then, her lungs emptied with relief.
The documents in her hands suddenly felt a little lighter as Amy pulled them close to her chest and blew out a sigh. She hated to think what her colleagues were going to do or say once they realised after however many days that she wasn't coming back, but right now, the detective needed to force every single one of those notions to the back of her mind.
She knew she was doing the right thing. Amy just hoped that it wasn't going to take a lifetime for her actions to pay off.
As the millionth longing image of her boyfriend danced across her brain, Santiago sensed her body shift to the right as she dug down into the pocket of her pants and revealed the round piece of plastic from its depths. The electricity that balled up in the palm of her hand around it was instant. It gave her all the willpower Amy was certain she was going to need to push through whatever the next hours, days, months and years had to throw at her.
Juggling all her paperwork and her bag into one arm, Amy held the ring out in front of her and smiled. She hesitated for one short second, before deciding to slip the silver coloured plastic on the ring finger of her right hand.
And right as the elevator touched down on the ground floor of the precinct, Amy clenched her fist and muttered determinedly through gritted teeth.
"Whatever it takes."
Saturday, Sept 2nd, 2017
Day Nine
No matter how many late nights or long shifts Detective Santiago ever worked during any given week, she had still never been one to sleep in on the weekends. She was an early riser - it was a pure and simple fact about her. She never craved even a single opportunity to remain curled up in bed past eight in the morning. She had never once desired it.
Well, that was, until the first night she had spent under the same roof with any of her toddling nieces and nephews. And no matter how old any of them grew, the feeling always remained the same.
"Aunty Aaaaaamy!"
Amy groaned out loud and braced herself for impact before she felt the full force of her four year old nephew crash landing completely on top of her sleeping form. The sound of the boyish giggling in her ear may have been sweet, and the sensation of the tiny hug around her waist may have been too cute for words, but God, Amy would have sold her soul for just ten more minutes sleep that morning.
Especially considering that the detective couldn't guarantee how well she would be sleeping any more after this day was over.
"Good morning, Mr. Mason," she huffed, pulling her head out from under the covers. The second that her vision fell on the scruffy haired boy smiling back at her, Amy felt her hooded eyelids open further with an adoring twinkle in her brown orbs, "Have you had your breakfast?" she asked with a yawn.
"Breakfast!" Mason parroted back at her, "Tita said you come, too."
Amy's heart soared. There was little in this world she loved more than her nephew and niece's precious nickname for their grandmother.
"Two minutes," she said, coaxing him off the bed, "Run back downstairs and tell Tita I'll be down in a second."
Quickly doing as he was asked with an excited 'okay', Amy watched as Mason's little legs carried him across the floor of the guest bedroom and back out into the hallway of her parents' home.
The presence of teeny footsteps between the four walls of Victor and Camila's old New Jersey home was nothing out of the ordinary. Coming from such a large family, it seemed like every time Amy stayed with her parents, one of her brothers was always visiting, as well. And seeing as how four out of seven of them were married with kids, her parents were almost always surrounded by at least two of their beloved grandchildren.
As Amy sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she glanced down at her right hand. Her ring had swiveled around her finger while she slept, and as she came to her feet, she quickly re-positioned it so the chunky, fake diamond was facing outwards.
A feeling of dread suddenly crept over her as Amy changed out of her pyjamas and into some jeans and simple tank top.
The Santiagos had been thrilled with the surprise arrival of their only daughter the night before. Her mother had taken her in with hug as tight as her small arms would allow and her father's smile had beamed brighter than the sun. They had both been so incredibly worried about her - based on everything they had seen on the news, and everything they assumed their daughter wasn't telling them. The last thing either Victor or Camila wanted was to suffocate Amy with a thousand unbearable questions as soon as she stepped through the front door... but at the end of the day, they were still her parents, and she was still their baby girl.
The only two things that they knew for sure was that Jake was in prison, and that he had broken Amy's heart.
She had remained completely tight-lipped about everything else. Including the fact that she was going away for a while in order to save him and Rosa.
Which only meant Amy had to suck up all of her fears and finally tell her parents this morning. And the thought absolutely terrified her.
Her mind continued to cycle through all the intimidating scenarios that could very well be about to be played out in front of her as Amy touched down on the wooden floor from the staircase and turned into her parents' kitchen. Mason was eagerly sitting up at the counter, digging into the stack of pancakes that his grandfather had pre-cut for him. His older sisters - Amy's seven year old twin nieces, Martina and Gabriela - were at the kitchen table, bickering between themselves about one silly thing or another while Camila was at the stove top preparing the next batch of doughy, maple syrup goodness.
"Good morning, Mija," Camila chirped as she glanced over her shoulder at her daughter, "How did you sleep?"
"Really, great actually, thanks, Mom."
Amy hated lying to her mother. But the detective suspected she was about to create enough conflict between herself and her parents without revealing the truth of her irregular sleeping patterns, as well.
"Are Lucas and Caroline here?"
"They've just gone for a walk around the park," her mother replied, making her way across the kitchen towards the twins, "Which means your brother has left us in charge of playing umpire between these two."
As their grandmother placed a perfectly even pile of pancakes on each of their plates, Gabriela shot absolute daggers at Martina, "Heeeey, why did she get more than me?!"
"No way, dumb-dumb, you're the one who got more than me!"
"Okay," Amy spat with haste as she dragged a dining chair around the length of the table, "How about I settle this one right now?"
Without sparing another second, the detective yanked Martina's seat about a metre away from her sister's, ignoring the stubborn squeaks of protest from her niece as she placed her own chair in between the two squabbling siblings. She fired a warning glare at both of them, but it wasn't quite enough to settle Gabriela's fiery tongue just yet.
"I can still throw my fork at her from here."
"Hey," Amy sniped in, "I can arrest you for that."
The small girl immediately shrunk into her seat, hiding behind her dark curls. The tiniest members of the Santiago clan may not have completely understood the work of all the law enforcement personnel in their family, but they all knew their Aunty Amy made a living off putting bad guys behind bars, and this fact alone was more than enough to make sure none of the kids ever purposely placed themselves on her bad side.
Not that Amy could ever stay mad at any of them for longer than two and half seconds.
Before Martina had the chance to laugh at her sister for being told off so sharply, the sound of heavy footsteps entering the kitchen caused the twins and their aunt to look up from their breakfast. Amy smiled at her dad.
"Morning," she spoke sweetly, spotting the twinkle in her father's eye as he noticed her.
"Good morning, tiger," Victor replied. He tucked the morning paper under his arm and walked around to Amy's side of the table, placing a gentle kiss on his daughter's forehead before taking a seat beside Gabriela.
"Come on sweetheart," Camila spoke to Mason as she reached for his hand, "How about you come down from there and sit with Tito, as well."
As the four year old leaped down from the bar stool with the help of his grandmother, he raced across the kitchen and nestled himself right into his grandpa's side. Victor chuckled to himself, scruffing up Mason's hair and helping him into his seat at the breakfast table. The whole exchange, in all of its innocent sweetness, made Amy's heart absolutely melt.
"So, baby," Camila spoke again, grabbing Amy's attention, "Do you know yet how long you'll be staying?"
And in that second, Amy's breath caught in the back of her throat.
The dull thump of her mother placing a plate of pancakes in front of her was the only noise to fill the room - not that any of her family seemed to notice the rush of nervousness that had suddenly swept across their daughter's expression.
Amy's wide, brown eyes darted between each of the faces sitting around her. Victor was contently flicking through the first couple of pages of the newspaper, his glasses sitting right on the end of his nose. The three kids were all too busy stuffing their faces - and still throwing subtle insults at each other - to even pay attention to whatever boring thing the adults were talking about. And as Camila finally joined her family at the table with her own breakfast, her appearance was the only one that was slowly beginning to contort in concern at the silence spewing from her daughter.
Amy quickly cleared her throat as she picked at her pancakes and took the smallest possible bite, "Till Tuesday. I have to get back to Brooklyn by Wednesday."
"To go back to work? Already?" Camila asked hastily, backtracking slightly as a frown fell into Amy's face, "Mija, what I mean is... I know how important your work is to you, but... considering all you've been through in the last two weeks, do you think it would be the worst thing in the world to take a little more time off?"
Amy didn't have the first clue how the sound of her fork chattering against her breakfast plate as her hand shook in nervousness couldn't be heard throughout the kitchen.
Her father was still completely focused on the newspaper, but the detective was certain that what she had to say would make his neck snap up towards her faster than lightning. Quickly glancing at her nieces and nephew one last time, Amy fell to a slight hesitation.
Was bringing up her top secret police mission in front of incredibly young ears so as not to be forced into too much detail the wrong thing to do? Absolutely.
But was that going to stop her?
Hell no.
"Actually..." Amy spoke, drawing in a deep breath, "Once I get back, I, uh... I have to go away for a little while. For work."
Just as she imagined, Camila immediately dropped her cutlery to the table, and Victor's eyes shot up like twin rockets to pierce his daughter's.
"Oh," Camila stuttered, all too aware that her grandkids were still in earshot, "Oh, I see. So... when you say 'go away', you, uh... you mean - "
"I think Amy knows that we know exactly what she means."
The instant venom on Victor's tongue was all too obvious as he drew his wife and daughter's attention towards him.
"I know exactly what it means to go away for work, and I used that line on your mother enough times when you were growing up for her to understand it, as well," he muttered, his fist clenching more with each word he spoke.
The elder Santiago took a moment before he huffed out in frustration, "Are you doing this for him?"
"Victor!"
"Dad!"
Six little, brown, innocent eyes all stared up at their aunt at the sound of the sudden anger that coated her voice as Amy swapped a quick glance with each of the three kids sitting around her. She paused, breathed in for what had to be the millionth time, and forced a small smile at Gabriela, Martina and Mason.
"You know what?" she asked in her parents' direction, a lot more calmly, "Suddenly not so hungry any more."
Camila cringed as Amy threw her napkin down at her plate and stood up from the table, storming off into the living room.
She almost yelled after her only daughter, but only until her husband shot up and took after her.
"Amy," Victor called, "Mija!"
With her lip curling up into a frustrated snarl, Amy spun around on the spot and glared daggers at her dad, "Do me favour?" she challenged him, "Can you at least think about what you're going to say before you actually say it to me this time?"
Thrown back by the unfamiliar viciousness in his angel's voice, Victor took a hand to his temple, "Honey, I'm just worried about you. I don't want you wasting any more of your life over - "
"Him? Is that what you were going to say?" Amy sniped over her dad, "His name is Jake. You know his name is Jake. And you also sure as hell know he's innocent of what he's been locked away for."
"Innocent of serial grand larceny, yes," Victor admitted, "But innocent of breaking my daughter's heart? I don't think so."
"Oh my God, Dad..." Amy groaned, mimicking his stance as a hand came to her forehead, "I get it, okay? We all get it. Jake's an asshole," she hissed quietly, "But he only dumped me the way he dumped me because he thought that was him being selfless."
Victor sighed, "Amy..."
"And obviously I realise it was the least selfless thing he could have done," she said, carrying right along, "But wherever Jake and I stand right now has nothing to do with the fact that he deserves every chance possible to be released from prison. He and Rosa - who is also counting on me to get her out of there, by the way."
"Tiger, it is not your responsibility - "
"No, Dad, you're right, it's not," she countered, "But this goes far beyond my responsibility to Jake, to the NYPD, and to the American justice system."
Her tone was as firm as ever as a serious determination flickered behind her brown orbs, "I owe this to myself, I have the responsibility to myself to do something about all this instead of sitting around my empty apartment wallowing and missing him."
Victor's weight shifted from one leg to the other as he folded his arms over his chest, still completely unconvinced, "Where are you going? How long will you be undercover for?"
"You know I can't share the specifics with you," Amy argued, swallowing a lump in her throat, "Just be prepared for the possibility that it could be a really long time."
The last four words from his daughter's mouth hammered away harshly in the back of Victor's mind, "A really long..." he cleared his throat, unable to muster the will to even complete the sentence.
A fire was well and truly boiling behind his eyes as his concerned glare fell onto Amy, "Are you positive you've properly thought this through?"
Amy's jawline stiffened, "I've thought of nothing else over the last nine days other than bringing him home."
The spite in her father's expression as she spotted him subtly roll his eyes finally made Amy snap, "Newsflash, Dad; I love him. I love Jake more than I've ever loved anyone, and more than I could ever love anyone else ever again."
Her unwavering declaration finally seemed to catch the attention of her dad as Victor's lips parted open in slight surprise and he skidded into silence.
Holding her gaze on his with as much strength as she possibly could, Amy's right thumb rubbed against the plastic band around her ring finger as she spoke again, "This is it for me. Jake is it for me. And I'm going to do whatever I have to do to bring him and Rosa back home."
In a last ditch effort to stamp his authoritative mark on their conversation, Victor scoffed under his breath, "If you think he's going to simply waltz back into this family after what he did to you..."
Amy merely shook her head at Victor's words. Her father's threat, while vicious in tone and all too obvious in implication, had trailed off with no real rhythm or reason. The younger Santiago has learned everything she knew about being a detective from her older counterpart - and unfortunately for Victor, that also included never allowing anyone to so easily call her bluff.
"Well, I guess you'd better make the most of the next three days then," Amy said, taking a step past her dad to head back to the kitchen, "Because If Jake's not welcome back here, I'm going to be gone much longer than just the length of my assignment."
A dull shiver slowly dragged its way down Victor's spine at the words from his baby girl. Her shoulder numbly grazed his as Amy made her way back through the kitchen and upstairs to the guest room without uttering another sound.
The whirlwind of an argument that Victor feared had just torn shreds off the relationship between he and his daughter left him shaken as he grabbed a hold of the couch to steady himself.
The retired detective was left to silently stare straight ahead, his vision fixed on the framed photo of his beautiful daughter that sat on the baby grand piano in the corner of the living room.
Victor swallowed, hard, forcing down the most stubborn choke of a threatening tear of frustration.
The perfectly happy smile in the centre of the silver frame seemed so lost on Amy as of late. A lot of things about Amy were suddenly so different to the girl in the photo that gazed back at him.
She wasn't a little girl or a young, rookie cop anymore.
And maybe, just maybe, it was finally time for Victor to admit that Amy wasn't just his girl anymore, either.
Tuesday, Sept 5th, 2017
Day 12
Charles' neck instinctively whipped around as the elevator chimed on its arrival at the fourth floor of the precinct. He kept in a breath that he didn't even realise he was holding, until he felt himself deflate at the sight of the beat cop who appeared with a stack of documents in his hands.
Downstairs people...
Huffing out a silent sigh, Charles felt a frown fall into the creases of his forehead as he glanced down at the clock in the corner of his computer monitor. One twenty-three in the afternoon. And no sighting of Detective Amy Santiago since Friday evening.
Admittedly, Charles hadn't been too surprised the day before when Amy hadn't shown up for work, or when she hadn't met him for a drink at Shaw's two nights before that. While she had been doing a lot better over the last couple of days, she was clearly still adjusting to life without Jake, and a long weekend might have done her a world of good. But it was Tuesday now - and not even a call or an email from her?
When the elevator suddenly dinged for a second time and snapped Boyle out of his trance, the detective's eyes widened as Captain Holt walked through the wooden gate and took a step into the bullpen.
Raymond was no doubt returning from the seven to ten minutes he reluctantly allowed himself for lunch each day in between his tireless efforts on Diaz and Peralta's case. Charles certainly didn't want to distract his captain or chew up anymore of his valuable time than he had to, but his curiosity towards Amy's whereabouts easily got the better of him.
"Excuse me, Captain?"
Charles came to his feet, scurrying just behind Raymond, "I was just wondering if you've heard from Amy at all this week? Is she going to be in later today?"
Without even stopping to glance at the younger man, Captain Holt continued on the beeline towards his office, "No."
"Oh," Charles exclaimed, thrown back slightly by such a blunt response, "Oh, okay, well, uh- will she be in later this week?"
"Again, no," Raymond spat simply, "Detective Santiago will not be back this week, or next week, or in the weeks to come."
Boyle took a second of silence before stuttering over a reply, "Wh-what do you mean, sir?"
By now, the precinct's captain had arrived at his door. For a moment, he seemed almost certain to maintain his stubborn ignoring of Boyle and simply cross the threshold without another word, despite how much he could feel his detective's eyes piercing through his back. But at the sensation of one of Gina's pupils suddenly on him as well, Raymond found himself coming to a halt in his tracks.
As he turned back around to re-face the bullpen, Raymond faltered for the shortest instant to find that Terry's suspecting glance had now fallen on him, too. The captain hesitated for only one more minute. And then, remaining as monotone as ever, Captain Holt simply cleared his throat.
"Detective Santiago has taken an indefinite leave of absence to spend time with her family and undertake some... personal re-evaluation."
"Re-evaluation?" Terry immediately echoed.
"Personal?" Gina cut in, instantly twigging to the more telling part of Holt's revelation, "Personal, how?"
Crossing his arms over his chest, Raymond carried right along, "Her well-being, her relationships, her career - "
"Her career?" Charles squeaked nervously.
A sharp silence swept over the precinct as the realisation of Raymond's potential next words crashed down onto everyone's shoulders. He scanned over each person's expression one last time. The confusion in Terry's face was obvious, as was the anxiety in Charles' eyes, and the smug raise of Gina's brow, as if she already knew what their captain was about to tell them.
With a slight adjustment of his tie, and his best poker face applied to perfection, Captain Holt shrugged his shoulders.
"If and when Santiago chooses to return to police work," he began, "She has requested a transfer from the Ninety-Ninth Precinct. A request that I have granted."
The hysteria that set in was immediate.
"A transfer?!"
"Amy's leaving?!"
"Coward..."
The spitefully sharp word that had slipped quietly off the end of Gina's tongue made Raymond falter for a split second. He glanced down to his left, taking a subtle peek at the harsh mixture of fury and disappointment that was sitting firmly in the creases of his PA's face. And as this along with all his other thoughts continued to be drowned out by the loud, frantic questioning from Boyle and Jeffords and any other cop within earshot of his revelation, Captain Holt felt something in his chest that he could swear was a sad skipping of his heart.
If only all of them really knew.
"Enough," Raymond sniped in over the top of his team, "Are those of you remaining forgetting that we still have a job to do? There will be no further discussion on this matter."
Charles scoffed out loud, throwing an arm out to the side, "But, sir - "
"I said get back to work, Detective."
Without giving anyone else the chance to question or challenge him, Raymond took a step backwards, escaping into his office and going to close the door behind him. But Sergeant Jeffords wasn't giving in without a fight.
"Captain," he called, darting away from his desk and across the bullpen, "Captain Holt, just let me have one minute!"
As Terry just managed to slip past the wooden door before it shut with a frustrated slam, a devastating silence fell over the rest of the fourth floor.
The atmosphere of the normally bright and lively precinct was now leaving a sour taste in everyone's mouth as they tried to process the surreal new reality that had been thrust into their laps. To think that they had already been through so much heartbreak and loss over the last twelve days - Rosa was in prison, Jake was locked up for even longer than she was... and now Amy was gone too? She has abandoned Rosa, and completely given up on Jake?
Before these toxic thoughts could sink too far into the back of anyone's mind, the floor of police officers was suddenly shaken from their deep trance as the phone on one of the other detective's desks began to ring.
With the incessant ringing snapping everyone back to work, Charles blinked where he stood on the spot. Detective Boyle hadn't even realised he'd been frozen solid until the tight tension fell away from his neck and his shoulders slouched back down.
As he blew out a few sharp, panic breaths with as much subtlety as he could muster, Boyle locked his eyes onto his step-sister's.
The fire in Gina's vision was burning almost as brightly as her hair as Charles swallowed a nervous lump in the back of throat and brought his voice to a timid murmur, "What are we gonna' tell Jake?"
Gina's heart skipped a dreaded beat of realisation as her expression widened and she leaped to her feet.
"Nothing! No-one tells Jake a thing," she commanded, her hand rubbing over her ever-protruding stomach, "He already hates himself for what he did to her - if he finds out that it drove her away, it'll kill him."
Charles immediately went to spout his disagreement. It was no secret that he was a horrible liar - it was in the Boyle DNA. He couldn't lie to anyone, especially not Jake. The two were partners and best friends, and Peralta was sure to see through any of Boyle's stumbling sentences in a second.
But as he took a moment longer to think about it - to really think about it, and he repeated the last three words Gina had spoken over again in his mind, Charles felt his defiant stance crumble.
Jake had already lost his career, he was away from all of his friends, he was missing his mother terribly, and he had cut his girlfriend out of his life. If he ever found out that the last item on that list was perhaps now a little more permanent than he originally intended... Gina was right. It would absolutely destroy him.
Gina's exterior softened a little as Charles finally conceded and nodded his head in agreement with her. She rested her hand on the underside of her round belly as she shifted her weight from one hip to the other.
"Look, just leave Jake to me, okay? I'm going in to visit him for the first time next Monday," she explained, "And if he mentions anything about Amy or asks after her, I..."
Trailing off for a swift instant as the thought crossed her, Gina felt a helpless groan escape her as her opposite hand subtly scrunch up into a fist.
She was far too freakin' pregnant for this crap.
"I'll... I'll just come up with an excuse."
Chapter title and lyrics by Shinedown.
Hello loyal readers! Your girl is back with a fresh chapter, and fresh out of excuses. Eight months off deserves eight-thousand words for being so patient with me, right?
I hope someone out there somewhere is enjoying this story, as much as it is still in its infancy. I am more than determined to keep going and to finish, but of course, life sometimes gets in the way, etc etc. At this stage I'm happy to be taking my time and producing something that I hope you'll agree is of the high quality I see in it myself :)
And Jake will be back soon! Some curious readers have been asking where he is - but I like to think his long absence really symbolises the fact that he's locked up and completely helpless right now and not seeing the light of day any time soon.
As always, I really appreciate any faves/thoughts/reviews. :) Thanks so much!
Till next time guys,
Reneyyyyyyy x