Synopsis: Jake Peralta's father did more than step out, sometimes he was drunk, and at one point he just happened to be too drunk. Jake Peralta loses his mother and Officer Ray Holt finds himself with a five year old problem.

Fathers and Sons

"We sit in the mud, my friend, and reach for the stars…"

-Ivan Turgenev

Chapter 2

May, 1988

The night passed relatively quietly. Jake, once settled on the bed between the two, went to sleep quickly. Ray however found sleep wouldn't come and noticed that it didn't for his partner either. After some time the two gave up on trying to sleep.

"It often happeth, that the very face sheweth the mind walking a pilgrimage, in such wise that other folk sodainly say to them a peny for your thought," Kevin said softly, voice musing.

Ray couldn't help the smile which came onto his face.

"And yet he seemed so far from hearing the thoughts of those who spoke or believed contrary to him," Ray replied.

Kevin shifted, causing the blanket to ripple and the barred moonlight to contort in a dance across their bedspread.

"It seems a necessary evil that the many figures of history portray such a contradiction, More being one of them," Kevin replied.

There was silence and the two men grew very still as the child between them stirred slightly, a small little plaintive moan sounding out. Jake wriggled in discomfort, still asleep but obviously in the throes of a nightmare. Instinctively Ray reached out and stroked the boy's head of curls. The child stilled and Ray pulled the covers up a little so they came over the boy completely.

"It does seem strange," Kevin began quietly, watching Jake with sad eyes, "that some are so willing to throw away what we work so hard for."

They were both being strangely sentimental. Their relationship was always muted, a natural occurrence from their own personalities but also from the need to represent an epitome of respect. How else were they to gain regard and at least humane treatment from people? Being gay they were subclass, or in more succinct words: sub-human. On top of that they were an interracial couple, yet another thing which lead to them even being treated poorly among their own community. So a stoic view was adopted, cool and unemotional. If they weren't careful they would end up old and being as stiff and emotionless as they acted.

"It will come," Ray said with quiet certitude.

Kevin's gaze slid to the side but he reached a hand out across the duvet and brushed Ray's arm. Ray's own hand found Kevin's and gripped it.

Ray woke early in the morning and was in the kitchen preparing coffee when Kevin stepped in. Ray frowned when he saw that Kevin was not showered or dressed impeccably as he usually was before he entered the dining room but instead Kevin was in his pajamas appearing adorably ruffled with Jake Peralta's arms wrapped around his neck.

"Jake started crying, he did not want to be left alone, and considering the events of yesterday, I-" Kevin let out a small sort of tutting sigh, remonstration being aimed at Ray along with a tinge of embarrassment which only increased Ray's amusement and enjoyment of the scene.

He didn't often get to see his partner so ruffled. Jake however appeared timid and tired, arms wrapped tightly around Kevin. Apparently, despite the child's experience, he had decided to quickly trust the man.

"I will be taking him in today," Ray said, carefully beginning the preparation of breakfast.

Kevin nodded and then did something utterly surprising.

"I will get Jake cleaned up," Kevin said to Ray before turning to the child in his arms.

"If you would tell me exactly what aid you will need when bathing, I can appropriate the necessary items and lend assistance as needed," Kevin said to Jake.

The boy shook his head, "I don't like baths."

Kevin's brow raised imperiously and Ray's lips quirked the small centimeter necessary to make a smile.

"I am afraid, Mr. Peralta, that if you want to continue living among civilized society, and most indeed within my house, you must take a bath," Kevin's voice brooked no argument and a small pout came on the boy's face but he acquiesced by nodding his head.

Kevin locked eyes with Ray for a moment, giving a small nod of the head. Ray continued preparing breakfast while he heard his partner headed to their guest bathroom.

Kevin Cozner was not the kind of man who had ever been interested much by children. As a child, he had matured quickly and had awkwardly gone through his youth knowing that he was different from others around him. When he entered college that difference became a reality which he slowly realized; his zeal for the literary world, his quiet composed nature, and of course his sexuality. Graduation had been a split from his family and from the world at large, a world that betrayed him over something so simple. Due to both his occupation, his reserved nature and his sexuality, he couldn't recall a time when he had ever dealt with children.

So it had been an unpleasant shock when Ray had brought a child home.

His choice the evening before to allow Jake to stay had been impulse, a desire to calm his partner, to take away the quivering discontent which Ray's work as a policeman had evoked. So he had humored the traumatized child. It's strange how quickly sentiment can act. By morning, Kevin had woken to a warm ball of mass pressed against his side. It was most definitely not Ray. It had taken Kevin a few moments to realize that his limpet was the boy, Jake.

When he had tried to remove himself from the situation the boy had clung tighter, mumbling something about 'Robin' and 'bad guys'. Kevin had acquiesced.

Now he was in the bathroom, trying to understand the complicated contraption known generally as the footsie. Jake was absolutely no help; the five year old was unwilling to bath and therefore feigning ignorance while trying to stay as physically close to Kevin as possible.

"I cannot help you get your foot out unless you lift your leg up," Kevin explained with thinning patience.

Jake lifted his foot half-heartedly and started to put it back down before Kevin could completely get the dirty blue footsie off. Kevin let out a quick breath of frustration and Jake lifted his foot, reading the man's annoyance.

When Jake was finally in the bath, he wouldn't let go of Kevin's hand. Kevin didn't have the heart to make him. Kevin wasn't sure how one was supposed to bathe a five year old, but common sense determined that leaving a five year old alone in a bathtub wasn't safe.

He had never yelled for Ray before, doing so was demeaning and spoke of uncultured behavior. Kevin found himself calling as softly as possible for Ray.

His partner appeared in the doorway, a question on his face.

"Please take Jake's attire to the wash, I am afraid that we have nothing else for him to wear," Kevin said this as he helped Jake soap his hair.

"Of course," Ray responded, stepping forward in his police uniform and grabbing the dirty blue footsie from off the ground.

It was all strangely domestic.

Somehow, Jake ended up dressed once again, in the now clean footsie. Kevin was still in his pajamas and they were soaked. Jake had fallen asleep and was now laying on the couch, a throw blanket tucked around him.

Kevin went over and picked up Jake. He brushed the boy's soft, brown curls, before handing him over to Ray.

"I will see you after work," Kevin said.

Ray nodded, face impassive, an unreadable smile just showing for his partner. Kevin smiled back.

Ray left the house and arrived at the police department just before nine in the morning. Where he worked, the government services were squashed together among a string of buildings in Brooklyn. There was busy street activity, a minimal of parking, and the joy of poor labeling. One was apt to be lost among the buildings, searching for the DMV but happening upon the marriage license office. For most people this was terribly infortuitous, for Ray at the moment it was quite fortunate.

The child services office was small and at the moment crowded. Ray worked the swing shift and had anticipated the business of Jake Peralta to be one which took a while. He stood in line for nearly an hour before reaching the front. When he described his situation, the woman asked for the case number, the situation, all of Jake's papers. Ray had none of this and tried to patiently explain the situation to her. She swept him to the side, telling him that the situation required so and so's help and she would call him up when so and so was available.

Ray sat down and Jake woke up. The little boy complained about being hungry, something Ray had anticipated by packing lunch and breakfast for himself and the boy. Eating took up twenty minutes thankfully, the poppy seeds needed to be chewed on individually and at some point Jake had turned them into soldiers marching across the napkin in an all out war. Ray meanwhile patiently sat on the chair next to the battle scene and waited.

Nearly an hour later they were called up once again. A petite red-head met them and showed them to the back. The office was cramped and smelled slightly off. Jake was being carried by Ray.

"I'm May Whitley, I oversee the office here in Brooklyn." She extended a hand and Ray grasped it.

"Officer Ray Holt, this is Jake Peralta," Ray replied, taking a seat.

Jake smiled shyly at Whitley.

"If you'll explain your situation, I'll try to help as much as possible."

Ray proceeded to explain. By the end Whitley had a serious look on her face. She already appeared frazzled and exhausted, an intelligent woman who was overworked in an ungrateful environment.

"I'm going to be frank with you Mr. Holt, you seem like a good person, but that isn't something which anyone is going to reward you for," Whitley leaned forward in her chair and cast a serious gaze at the two of them.

"There's no room for Jake, we literally have nowhere to place him, or any other child at the moment. This program is underfunded, generally the best we get from the public is disinterest, the worst is conservative's which think we're some kind of homebreakers," Whitley let out a humorless bark and shook her head.

"If anything I think people do a grand job of breaking their own homes. The point is that the best we could do is stick Jake in an overcrowded room with at the least four other kids who could be from any background and of any age. Kids disappear, shit happens. Or you could wait until we get an opening, something which could take months."

Whitley looked at Ray over steepled fingers, a mirthless and world weary look on her face.

"I understand," Ray replied, thoughts going crazy in his mind, "I would take Jake in but," Ray stopped, deliberating a response.

"You're black?" Whitley hazarded a guess as to Ray's possible issues with that.

"I don't give a shit, hell, no one does, they put up a fight over interracial adoption but they don't care if the kid ends up on the street. Let's you know about the priorities of the government."

Ray wasn't quite liking how this interview was going.

"You have a job? You don't have time for a kid? No one does," Whitley said, shaking her head. She stood and prepared to show Ray out.

"Well, thank you for coming in. I have a few papers for you to sign and we'll take Jake off your hands."

Ray stiffened, aware that all of this was being said in front of Jake who was awake and aware.

"Thank you, but if Jake could stay with me," Ray paused, unsure of how to pose his statement.

Whitley looked sharply at him and seemed to be deliberating something.

"I can draw up the paperwork," she said.

"Until a spot can be found," Ray finished.

Whitley was quiet, a small amused smile coming on her face.

"Of course," she replied as she moved over to the filing cabinet.

"I can get you the right paperwork for now, but I'll need his information and formal documents from the case. I assume you'll be able to get that for me since you are over it."

Ray nodded. Jake had been messing with the back of Ray's collar amusing himself with tiny noises of explosions and other sounds as his fingers did flips and tumbles.

The paperwork was drawn up and Ray was soon enough stepping out of the office and outside. He was struck suddenly by the fact that he had not consulted his partner about this, at all. Also, Ms. Whitley, no matter her lack of prejudice to his skin color, he had no idea of her thoughts on his orientation.

He had never taken risks, at least not risks like this. When he did take risks they were deliberated ones, things like telling his parents about his first partner, things like choosing to be openly gay in the police force. This was spontaneous and crazy. Kevin wasn't going to be happy.

Ray went home, driving his Holden Camira through the traffic. Kevin was currently on sabbatical from the college so he spent his time at home and doing various projects. Ray had work in a few hours and he was going to have to leave Jake with Kevin.

It worried him, relationships between gay men were difficult at best, the stress being something which broke even the closest of people. This whole situation qualified for a reason to break it off. They'd been together for little over a year.

"Batman?"

Ray was pulled from his musings and looked in the back mirror. Jake was buckled up, without a car seat, in the back seat of the car.

"Yes Jacob?" Ray replied.

"Where's mama? Is she okay? Dad hurt her again and, where is she?" Jake asked, looking more and more upset.

Ray took in a breath, chest tight.

"She's not here, she's resting," Ray said in an even tone.

Jake gave a nod, but tears were in his eyes and soon Ray could hear tiny sobs being muffled by little arms.

Ray pulled the car over, horns sounding out. Unbuckling he turned around and faced the crying child. Ray leaned to unbuckle Jake and the boy clasped his arms around Ray's neck. Ray pulled him to the front of the car and held him, gently comforting the boy.

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