The Family You Choose

Summary: Written for CookieGirl as part of the FandomGiftBox exchange. Jake hurts himself. Holt notices
Warning(s): Spanking; mild spoilers for the first two seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine

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As he walked the perp into the station, Jake grinned at his colleagues and pointed his thumb and forefinger at Amy, winking at her. “Who’s the man? Jake’s the man!” The grin that crossed his face was almost manic. Adrenaline was still running through his veins, but no longer as strongly as it had been. And since it was starting to fade, he was beginning to register the wrenching pain in his chest. He breathed in deeply and was proud of himself as he said, without his voice wavering, “So who wants to join me in interrogation?”

“I will.”

Jake looked up as Holt stepped into view. The Captain was carrying a file in one hand and looked to be more irritated than usual. Or maybe Jake was just projecting. Either way, he grinned at Holt and quickly said, “No need, Captain. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than sit interrogation with me.”

“I have the case file right here.” Holt held it up. “And I’ve read it very thoroughly.” He paused before asking, “Is there a particular reason you don’t want me in there with you?”

“Reason? Of course not.” Breathing was hard. It was possible he’d cracked, perhaps even broken, a rib. But if he showed even a hint of pain to Holt, or indeed any of the others, they wouldn’t let him continue working. And he needed to interrogate this perp. He needed to be the one to do that, given how much effort he’d put into catching the guy in the first place.

“Is something wrong, Peralta?” Holt was looking at him. Maybe even studying him.

“Nope.” Jake breathed in deeply and stretched his arms over his head as he fake yawned. “Everything’s fine here. I’m good. He’s good. You’re good. Everyone’s good.”

“Good.” Holt walked away, heading towards interrogation.

Jake managed to hold back a sigh as he followed the Captain, pulling the perp along with him. Okay, so under most circumstances, he wouldn’t care if Holt tagged along or not. Would probably be happy about it, in fact. Which had nothing to do with the fact he’d accidentally called the older man Dad. Of course, he’d managed to save himself that particular time and….

And they were here. In interrogation. And he still had no idea how to hide the fact he was in pain from Holt.

“Go ahead, Peralta.” The Captain’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Take the lead.”

Holt’s expression wasn’t any easier to decipher than usual, but Jake couldn’t shake the feeling that the older man had a good idea of what had gone down; and was trying to manipulate him into showing his weakness.

Resisting the urge to shuffle his feet and stare at the floor (he was still a grown man), Jake pushed the perp round to the other side of the table and onto the chair, handcuffing him into place. He was careful not to bend over too far and managed to avoid wincing too much as he straightened and walked round to stand on the other side. “May as well confess,” he informed the perp, who looked to be the same age as the Captain, dressed in a casual summer shirt and beige shorts. “I caught you red-handed. And I’d like to get this over with by lunchtime. See, I’ve got a really important date to get to.”

Holt cleared his throat.

“I meant another case to solve.” Jake gave Holt his most winning smile. “Because I’m just that good.” He turned back to his suspect, placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. But instead of a direction to talk, or else, what escaped his lips was a loud yelp.

“Peralta.”

“I’m fine.” Jake turned a pleading gaze onto Holt. “C’mon, Captain. I need this.”

“You’re in pain. You’re gritting your teeth with each step you take. You can’t even put your hands on the table without it hurting you.” Holt advanced a step with each word he spoke, until he was almost nose to nose with Jake. “Terry will take over questioning the suspect. We are going to have a conversation.”

“But that’s not fair, Dad.” Jake hesitated as the word left his lips. What was wrong with him? He rushed on quickly, hoping Holt wouldn’t pick up on his blunder. “It was my collar. No fair Terry gets to take the credit.”

Holt took a step backwards, away from Jake, and turned to face the perp. “How did he catch you?”

The man glanced from Holt to Jake, who frantically shook his head. He closed his eyes and hung his head in defeat as the man he’d arrested answered the Captain. “Came charging over the road towards me without looking where he was going. Got side-swiped by a car.”

“Peralta.”

Jake’s eyes snapped open and he glared, first at the perp who’d thrown him under the bus and then at Holt. “I got right back up again. I arrested him. Read him his rights. I did everything by the book.”

“Except for looking both ways before you crossed the street.” Holt reached out and placed his hand on Jake’s shoulder; patted it gently before withdrawing. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital.” Jake struggled to keep his voice on a calm, even level; not to raise it and start arguing with Holt like a child trying to get out of an early bedtime. “I’m an adult and I decide if I need medical attention or not.”

This time, when Holt reached out to grasp Jake’s shoulder, it wasn’t a quick squeeze and release. Instead, he gripped firm and tight and marched Jake back out of the interrogation room.

“He ready for me?” Terry was standing just outside, arms folded across his chest, glaring at Jake.

“Hey, no fair!” Jake wrenched his shoulder free of Holt’s hand and glared (not pouted, glared) at both men. “You two ganged up on me? You don’t think I can handle a simple interrogation? The hospital can wait.”

A sharp crack echoed through the corridor and Jake yelped as a sharp, stinging pain exploded across his backside. Hands flying back to the injured spot, he turned wide, wounded eyes onto Holt. “You smacked me.”

“Given that this has been the second time you’ve called me Dad, it seems an appropriate course of action,” Holt replied.

“I’m not a kid!” Jake protested.

“You sure about that?” Terry asked. “It sure fits the way you’ve been acting right now.” He nodded to Holt. “I’ll take over the interrogation if you plan to drive him to the hospital.”

“If I don’t, he won’t go.” Holt’s hand landed heavily on Jake’s shoulder and he steered him towards the exit of the precinct.

“Sarge? Sarge!” Jake frantically looked over his shoulder at Terry. “Don’t let him take me away! Help…!”

Terry just snorted, muttered something that sounded a lot like, “You brought this on yourself,” and then stepped into the interrogation room.

Thankfully, everyone, even Boyle, had deserted the main room; whether because they were busy or because they could tell a storm was brewing and they didn’t want to be involved, he didn’t know. He did resist as they reached the main doors, but another firm smack to his backside had him yelping and stumbling outside.

Holt guided Jake over to his car and then paused, turning Jake to face him, gripping his upper arms in a firm grasp. “I’m taking you to the hospital, son. I won’t allow you to continue working when you’re clearly in pain. I am not the only person who worries about you, but it looks like I’m the only one prepared to act on it.”

“You’re not my Dad,” Jake muttered, dropping his gaze to the ground.

“I’m not your Dad through blood,” Holt allowed. “But we are a family. Through choice. And as part of your family, I will not stand by and allow you to risk making yourself worse.”

Jake kept his head down, thinking on Holt’s words. Thinking about what the older man was saying. He looked up, a hopeful smile crossing his face. “So I can really call you Dad?”

“Yes, son.” Holt squeezed Jake’s arms and then reached out to open the passenger side door. “Now get in. I’ll drive you to the hospital and they can check you over more thoroughly.”

Jake thought about arguing, but it wasn’t in him anymore. Not knowing Holt viewed him as family; as a son. So he got in the car and waited for his father to drive him to the hospital.

He wasn’t going to protest anymore.

The End