all that laughter crumbling in your fingers
Summary: Amy kind-of sort-of Dies, and everything falls apart.
So I think maybe by now I can list “inflicting emotional pain on Jacob Peralta” as a marketable skill? Anyway, I decided the best way to deal with exam stress was to pull out that horrifying old prompt that I believe @natashwarma once gave me into a legit fic. Never did I think something would be worst than single dad au, but well. I’m delivering a blanket apology with this thing pleasedon’tkillmeokaybye
Rosa, her fingers wound tightly around the back of the plastic chairs in the meeting room and her voice short and brooking no argument, actually opposes the whole idea at first.
So does Captain Holt, even if he maybe isn’t as vocal about his objections as Rosa is.
“What?” she snaps, the first time it’s brought up. “That’s insane.”
“Don’t be stupid,” she growls, the second time it’s suggested. “We’ll figure out another way.”
The third time, she doesn’t even bother with pleasantries.
She stands with her hands curled up tightly at her sides, the outsides of her knuckles brushing against the hems of her jacket sleeves, not completely sure why she’s so angry that they’re even considering this and watching as Amy talks in that eager, animated way of hers, explaining to Captain Holt why there is literally no other way they can pull the sting off.
On the one hand, Rosa gets it; Amy doesn’t want to sacrifice a month’s worth of undercover work and intel. Work and intel for Rosa’s case, the one the higher ups got tangled up with because it bled into larger investigations and for Christ’s sake, Rosa was the one who suggested Amy for the job.
On the other hand –
Rosa watches as Holt agrees with her; slowly, finally, convinced by Amy’s determined stubbornness and the FBI agents’ voices of reason. Rosa watches, hands still curled at her sides and the tightness of her chest threatening to spill through into her voice, because this can’t – she won’t –
“Diaz?” Captain Holt’s voice is calm – not quite gentle, she thinks, and realizes that he knows if he tried gentle with her right now she’d get angry, the tightness not just spilling through but exploding, blazing. (He’s not wrong.) “It’s your call.”
Rosa swallows and pretends her voice isn’t getting caught in her throat. “Fine. Whatever.”