Chapter Text
“Thank goodness, doctor, we were so worried! Tell me, will-”
“I’m not your doctor, ma’am. I’m Nurse Peralta, just call me Jake, and Dr. Jeffords will be in to see you soon. I’m simply here to see your daughter, check her chart, and make sure everything’s comfortable.”
The patient’s mother ashamedly apologizes, and Jake tells her it’s no problem. He takes a deep breath and does his job, exiting the patient’s bedside once Terry enters the room. As soon as Jake shuts the door, he sees Amy a few feet away, her hand on her hip.
“Hey, Dr. Peralta, how’s your day been?” she quips.
“Shush, you,” Jake replies, knocking his shoulder against hers as they walk downstairs for lunch. He met Amy back when they were college students in training, and they stuck together like two peas in a pod. “It’s not my fault the gender gap in the nursing field is incorrigible!”
“Incorrigible,” Amy repeats, a smile clear on her face. “Is that from your word-of-the-day toilet paper stash?”
“That it is,” Jake confirms. “I have you to thank for being so … munificent.”
“No problem!” Amy replies. “Always happy to buy you vocabulary-related gifts.”
“Always happy to receive your gifts,” Jake responds, making his way toward the rotunda.
He frowns all of a sudden. “Hey, where’s your lunch?”
Hospital food is famous for its (lack of) quality, and Brooklyn City Hospital is no different. Jake and Amy have taken up bringing their lunches over the years, but Amy’s familiar navy blue lunchbox is nowhere to be seen.
“I have to buy today.” Amy sighs. “You know how the electricity at my place is iffy, right? There was a power outage all yesterday. Aside from the fact that I didn’t have wifi yesterday, my food went bad.”
Jake gasps in mock horror. “Don’t let them do this to you, Ames!”
“What else can I do, move out?” Amy mutters. “You know I can’t afford that. I’ll just have to grin and bear it.”
In defeat, Amy joins the crowd of physicians in the lunch line. Jake haplessly waves from their regular lunch table, unwrapping his ham and cheese sandwich. By the time Amy returns, holding a tray with milk, fruit, and Uncrustables, Jake is half done with his meal.
“How’s your day been, Jake? I didn’t get to ask.” Amy pitifully looks at her lunch, distracting herself with companionship.
“It’s alright. Nothing out of the ordinary,” he answers. “Uh, a teenage girl hurt her kidneys playing soccer 一 her mom was the one who mistook me for a doctor. It was really a one-in-a-million kind of injury, apparently, from getting hurt in the back and side. I saw a bunch of patients for heart problems and checkups, and I prepped a guy for a liver transplant.”
“Not bad,” Amy says. “I saw two different kids in for broken fingers, and I took care of a patient who just got an appendectomy. Is it just me, or does the hospital really need more blankets? Every single one of my patients was annoyed about that. ”
“It’s not just you. Every time a patient calls for me, I already know to pick up blankets before I reach their bed.”
“Of course the hospital can spent thousands on a new MRI machine, which I’m not saying isn’t helpful,” Amy grumbles. “I just wish they would spend a little of their funding on making patients more comfortable.”
“Exactly!” Jake agrees. “We get it, fancy equipment is a lot more likely to save a life than some new blankets or, god forbid, hiring new nurses. At the end of the day, though, can’t we spare something to help make patients a little happier while they’re here?”
“Hey, guys!” Gina interrupts, waving and setting down her lunch tray. “Mind if I sit here?”
“Sure thing, Gina,” Amy answers. “Anything for a fellow nurse.”
“What were you two talking about?” Gina asks, already checking her phone for updates. She’s recently begun dating Rosa Diaz, a surgeon at the hospital, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.
“Hospital funding,” Jake groans. “I just wish they’d spend a little on basic stuff for patients, so nurses didn’t have to deal with complaints so often.”
“Same!” Gina adds. “People demand simple stuff all the time! You know, give me more ice chips. Adjust my pillows. It’s endless.”
“And all the questions,” Amy whines. “When can I leave? How long will it be before I can work? Why do I have to talk all these pills? And, last but not least … ”
“How long until I can have sex?” Amy says monotonically, with Jake and Gina chiming in right behind her.
“Patients,” Jake quips. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”
“Jake!” Charles Boyle, the nurse practitioner, calls the next morning. “We’ve digitally shared the list of patients with you. Um, a word of advice, check the third one from the top.”
“Okay?” Jake shrugs and raises an eyebrow before scanning over the list. He has the girl with the hurt kidneys from yesterday, a couple people in for minor scrapes and injuries, and一
“No,” he gasps, paling and running a hand through his hair.
Within a second, Jake is running for the elevator and taking it to the third floor of the hospital. He gazes through the window in room 325A with worry, and gently knocks twice.
Jake’s too impatient to wait for a response. Someone he loves is on the other side of the door, and they need his help.
“Hey,” he coaxes. “Guess you didn’t think I’d ever be your nurse, huh?”
No reply.
Nurse Amy Santiago is laying in the hospital bed, her normally neat hair splayed across the pillows. She occasionally stirs, but she never says a thing. Her body is pale, shivering every so often and turned to one side.
Only the sound of Jake’s voice and the computerized noises from the hospital machines fill the air.
“I’d love to stay for a personal visit, but I have too many patients,” Jake admits, running his hand through his hair while he sits by the edge of the bed. “I’m just here to check your vitals and keep you comfortable, okay?”
“I wish I knew what happened to you,” he murmurs. “Your chart's pretty simple so far. Apparently CPR was performed when you were found?”
Amy suddenly turns to her left side, and Jake hopes with all his heart she’ll wake up.
She doesn’t.
“Hope you’re alright,” Jake goes on. He’s already exhausted, and it’s only 9 A.M. “The patient I told you about, the one with kidney problems, needs to see me. Love you, Ames.”
Jake spends the rest of his day nervously asking for updates on Amy’s status. He visits her room more often than he really should. Rampant worries overflow in his mind, taking him on a roller coaster of expectations. Ever hopelessly, he texts Amy (she’s 'santiaghost' in his phone because she hates Halloween.)
His efforts are futile.
He eats dinner with Charles, since Gina and Rosa are off-campus for a date. Charles receives the brunt of Jake’s worrying. At least he’s sympathetic, thoughtfully nodding along and wishing Jake the best. Amy and Charles are close, of course, but they don’t exactly see each other often.
The fifth time Jake visits room 325A, Amy is awake. Her arm is over her eyes, trying to block out the light, but she’s alright.
“Hey, Santiago.”
“Hi, Jake,” she sighs, hiding her hands underneath the blanket.
“What happened?” He blurts. “I mean, I don’t want to push you, but I am your nurse and I kind of have to know.”
Amy nods.
“Sorry,” he mutters, looking at the ground.
“I don’t mind, Nurse Peralta,” she softly jokes. “You know how the power at my apartment goes out all the time?”
“Yeah?”
Amy admits, “I was electrocuted while plugging in my phone charger.”
“Are you okay?!” Jake immediately steps forward, concernedly reaching for her chart and flipping through it within seconds. By now, on his sixth or seventh trip up to her room, the hospital's updated her records. “They ran an EKG, you have burns on your hands, and someone did CPR on you. Take this seriously, Ames.”
“I’m fine, Jake,” Amy dismisses. “Very rarely can electrocution cause heart problems! They were just checking to be safe. My burns are only first-degree, and they’re small.”
“Please tell me you’re moving out of that place.” Jake sits down on Amy’s bed, looking over at her.
“I can’t do that!” Amy protests. “My rent’s already high as it is, and I have thousands of dollars to pay in medical bills now. My neighbor heard me scream, and she called an ambulance. They charge hundreds per minute.”
“Fucking U.S. healthcare system,” Jake curses. “Don’t you have medical benefits from the hospital?”
“It doesn’t cover everything,” Amy mumbles. “Even though I work here, I’m still a patient, too.”
“What if you moved in with me?” Jake offers.
“I can’t put you out like that.”
“I offered to do it! You’re my best friend, and you just got hurt.” Jake rebuts. “Besides, I’d save money on rent if you were my roommate.”
“Okay,” Amy begrudgingly agrees. “I’ll move in once I’m out of the hospital. When is that, anyway?”
Jake flips a couple pages in Santiago’s chart. “If everything goes well, you can leave tomorrow. You can start working again right away, too. And, I know you’re too embarrassed to ask, but …”
“What?” Amy demands, a scowl on her face.
“You can have light, non-strenuous sex as soon as you leave the hospital.”
“Oh, shut up,” she grumbles.
“Make sure you stretch before and after! And, if you don’t already, use protection,” Jake advises.
Amy rolls her eyes. “I’m a full-time nurse, I already know about safe sex. Also, if you haven’t noticed, I’m single.”
“Just checking, Santiago.” Jake grins and heads for the door. “Well, I have to go. I keep getting paged about kidney girl.”
“Bye, Jake,” Amy says, waving. “Thanks for stopping by. I’ll, uh, text you?”
“Sounds good.”
Once Jake leaves, Amy sighs, embarrassed he even saw her in this state. She’s wearing a paper-thin hospital gown. Her clothes were cut off in the ambulance, never to be seen again. Day-old makeup is smudged around her eyes. Matted, unbrushed hair falls over her shoulders. Looking down at her hands, red burns mar her skin.
Amy misses scrubs and tennis shoes. It seems working at the hospital, instead of occupying one of its rooms, was ages ago. Her phone is lying under her pillow, and it beeps loudly.
[messages: 1:30 PM, today]
jake mcclane: are u feeling ok??
jake mcclane: ill check in after like an hour but i was just wondering
jake mcclane: drink lots of water!!
jake mcclane: also never return to ur terrible apartment ;)
santiaghost: yeah im fine!!
santiaghost: thanks for checking in :)))
santiaghost: i hate being a patient but at least your my nurse
jake mcclane: **you’re
santiaghost: i hate you, peralta
Jake returns to Amy’s room after precisely sixty-four minutes. He softly knocks and she yells, “Please come in!”
It’s been an exhaustive hour and four minutes without his company.
After texting Jake, Amy puts her phone away to save battery 一 the whole reason she was electrocuted at her apartment was because power surged through her phone charger. Her poor iPhone has a whopping 21% battery percentage.
“Your parents just called the hospital,” Jake says as soon as he enters. “They’re driving in to see you.”
“Oh, no,” Amy mutters, running her fingers through her messy hair and looking at her watch. “I bet they arrive within an hour, and they have at least one of my brothers with them.”
“I’ll take that action.”
“No, Jake, it wasn’t a serious bet-”
“You said you needed money for your bills, and you know your family like no one else,” Jake argues.
“Whatever. Fine, we each put twenty bucks in for the two claims. If both come true, I get all forty. If one comes true but the other doesn’t, the money goes back to the rightful owners. If neither are true, you get all of the money.”
“Dang,” Jake remarks. “This is a really … calculated bet.”
“I need the money!” Amy protests. “Besides, you’re the one who’s always saying nobody uses the stuff they learn in grade school.”
“This is basic addition, Ames. I’m just saying nobody uses trigonometry or Newtonian mechanics.”
“It’s statistics!”
“If you say so,” Jake retorts. “You can’t show your work, can you?”
“You’re so mean. Your friend was electrocuted in her apartment, and you don’t have the heart to be nice to her.”
Jake protests, “I’m practically giving you twenty bucks in this bet!”
“I know you’re broke, too. How about this? We eliminate this faulty bet and start a new one,” Amy offers.
Jake shrugs. “Go on.”
“I bet an even amount of Santiagos comes to visit me. I don’t count, of course. So I lose if an odd amount of family members come.”
“Sounds good,” Jake agrees. “People are counted from now until when you check out?”
“Yep.” Amy reaches forward to shake Jake’s hand. “How about the winner gets … thirty dollars.”
“You have a deal, Santiago.”
After placing their bet, Jake and Amy guess which of the Santiago brothers will come. As Jake sits on the edge of the hospital bed, Amy tells him about all seven of her siblings. She explains the acronym she made up as a kid and he calls her a dork, but Amy laughs all the same.
They’re interrupted when Victor and Claudia Santiago come running into room 325A, still breathless from running up the stairs.
“Amy, we’re so glad you’re alright,” her mother says, winded. “You are moving out, right?”
“If you think that you’re going to stay another minute in that apartment of yours...” Victor threatens, shaking a finger.
“Don’t worry,” Amy coaxes, sitting in bed and calm as can be. “You remember Jake, right?”
Jake limply waves from the bedside.
Amy’s parents walk closer to him, smiling.
“Of course we do!” Victor says. “Thank you so much for taking care of Amy. You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Actually, I do,” Jake corrects. “Legally, I’m Amy’s nurse, and I’m supposed to brief you two about her condition.”
“Her condition?” Claudia Santiago repeats, dumbfounded. “Is there bad news?”
Amy remains speechless, looking over at her mother’s worried face.
“No, no,” Jake hurriedly explains. “Amy’s going to be just fine. They checked her heart with a scan, and she can check out tomorrow.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” her father replies. “We’re so grateful our Amy had a caretaker like you when she was in danger.”
“Anyway, as I was saying, I’m moving in with Jake after I get out of the hospital! We can carpool to work, save money on rent, and hopefully avoid electrocution in the future,” Amy explains.
“What a relief.” Claudia strokes her daughter’s cheek and brushes a stray curl of hair out of her face. “Thank you so much, Jake.”
Victor beckons a visitor in upon hearing a simple knock. Three Santiago brothers rush over the threshold and into room 325A.
“Amy, are you alright?”
“We heard there was something wrong with your apartment-”
“Tell me she’s going to be alright, doctor!”
Amy dismisses them with a wave of her hand. “I’m fine. They ran an EKG on me and it came back clean.”
They breathe a sigh of relief.
“Anyway, this isn’t my doctor,” Amy chides.
“Jake Peralta.” Jake greets. “I’m Amy’s nurse 一 and, furthermore, I’m her friend. Please tell me embarrassing stories about teenage Amy; she won’t budge!”
“Glad to meet you, Jake. I'm Manny,” Amy’s brother says, extending his right hand with a smile. “Have I got the story for you-”
“Don’t you dare tell him anything,” Amy warns. “Or else I’ll tell Mom and Dad about spring break 2014.”
Manny smirks and crosses his arms. “Joke’s on you, sis. They already know.”
“Looks like you’re out of ammunition, Santiago,” Jake remarks. At the mention of their surname, all six Santiagos turn to face Jake.
“Sorry it doesn’t work as well when we’re all together.” Another brother laughs. “Nice to meet you, Jake. I’m Luis, Amy’s other older brother, and this here is Vic. He’s our oldest brother.”
“Is anyone else coming?” Jake inquires. “Amy and I have a bet going about how many Santiagos visit her in the hospital.”
“Is that so?” Vic asks, stepping forward. “How’s that work?”
“If an odd amount of Santiagos comes to visit Amy in the hospital, I win thirty bucks from your sister. Vice versa if an even amount comes,” Jake says. “I’m really crossing my fingers on this one.”
“Can I put money on that?” Amy’s family chimes in.
“No!” Amy protests. “I know you guys love betting, but you’re too involved in this one! One text message or phone call, and the odds shift at once.”
“Ha! Odds, ‘cause the bet is about odd and even amounts,” Manny points out. Luis puts an arm around his shoulder and mutters, “At least you tried, buddy,” when nobody laughs.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Nurse Teddy Wells says as he opens the door, “but you’re making an awful lot of noise. Aren’t visiting hours over, anyhow? On my watch, you’ve been in for twelve minutes, but family’s only allowed ten minutes. Hospital policy.”
“Thanks, Teddy. They’ll be right out,” Jake feigns sincerity. Once the door slams shut, he gossips about Nurse Wells (“his favorite app on his phone is contacts!” ) and bids the Santiago family goodbye.
“Thank you so much for visiting, everyone.” Amy hugs her parents and brothers gently, still sore from the accident. “I’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow, and I’ll text you then. I love you guys.”
Jake shakes everyone’s hands and says, “It was great to meet you! Amy always talks about you-”
“Hopefully good things,” Claudia jokes.
“-and it’s nice to put a face with the name.”
The door shuts with a click, and Jake hears Teddy tsk at the Santiagos on their way out. “Can you believe him, Ames?”
“He’s not the nicest,” she frowns. “At least my nurse is a lot better than he is.”
“Aw, Santiago, you don’t have to say that.” Jake blushes, moving away from Amy’s bed to pick up her chart. He buries his face in her medical records, attempting to conceal his hopeless grin.
First and foremost, he can’t let his best friend see how incessantly giddy one little compliment can make him. For sure, he can’t let her think anything’s up his sleeve. A nurse just can’t ask out a coworker when she’s in a hospital bed, right?
Jake has to wait. To wait, he has to ensure she isn’t suspicious. Amy can’t see the way his eyes light up when she flirts (he fucking hopes it’s flirting, at least.) He’ll ride out the butterflies in his stomach; he’ll meet her face to face, one-on-one, and confess. Someday. The jury’s still out on that one.
“I mean it!” she insists. “You’re a good nurse. You know how to care for people, how to cheer them up just when they need it. Sympathy and humor just sort of work together in your case, ‘cause you know when to use each of them. You understand, right?”
Her dimple shows when she’s enthusiastic, Jake notes, and his heart flutters just a little more with that observation.
“I do now,” he murmurs, sitting down on the bed. Amy’s wearing nothing but a ratty blue hospital gown, her winged eyeliner smudged and her hair unwashed, but Jake can’t not want to kiss her when she grins up at him just so.
Jake leans in a couple inches, pretending he’s doing so to readjust her pillows. Amy sits up in bed, tucking hair behind her ears with two hands, and curses.
“What’s wrong?” Jake tenses, pulling away from Amy’s face at once. “Did I do something?”
“No, it’s not you,” Amy explains. “I hate these stupid hospital gowns. The top always unknots, and I can’t tie it behind my back. Could you help?”
“Y-yeah,” Jake stutters. “I’m your nurse, right? It’s my job.”
Amy turns, pulling all her hair to one side, and lets Jake fiddle with the flimsy bow. Gulping, he notices he can see the back of her bra (white lace, not that he should care) and moves to tie the gown.
He's never been more careful in his life. Jake’s fingers shake as he tries not to brush against Amy’s back 一 it’s not his fault that the dumb gowns are so thin and the bows are so far apart 一 and the two strings keep slipping out of his fingers. On the third try, Jake finally succeeds and lets out a sigh of relief. “Done.”
“Thanks, Jake,” Amy responds, softly hugging him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Ames.”
They pull apart after a moment, faces so close she can smell his aftershave.
Here goes nothing, Jake thinks, taking a deep breath and bracing himself for rejection. If he doesn’t ask now, he’ll hate himself forever for not taking the chance. She’s a patient, but only until tomorrow. The moment couldn’t be more right.
A few seconds creep by, so slow time must have stopped or the world must be ending. Agonizingly, Jake’s heartbeat accelerates and he grins gently at Amy.
“Hey, I was wondering, could we-” he begins, before being interrupted.
Time is pulled apart once again, slow-motion stress panning out and playing with his mind, as everything goes to waste. The entire, intricate moment falls apart.
Amy stifles a giggle.
Either her medication’s kicking in, or she’s just in the mood to joke. “That kind of tickles. Are you vibrating? ”
“That’s my pager, sorry,” Jake excuses himself, face flaming. “It’s attached to my belt. It’s not, uh, any other vibrating device. Just to be clear.”
“Got it,” Amy smirks, laughing. “Just, y’know, when a guy’s waist area starts buzzing, you kind of assume something’s up.”
“Shut up!”
“Well, is it anything important?”
“Yeah,” Jake groans, running his fingers through his hair. “You know the flu going around? A woman was brought in for dehydration, and her whole family came to visit. Turns out they got sick too.”
“Oh, that’s awful!” Amy winces. “I hope everything’s alright.”
“It’s just the flu. They’re probably fine.”
Amy nods. “Well, I’m glad you’re so sure of yourself, mister big-shot nurse-mistaken-for-a-doctor. Before you go, what were you saying before your pager beeped?”
“Oh, uh, it was nothing. I was wondering if we could, um, um 一 oh, great, I forgot it.”
Pretending to have forgotten is much less humiliating than admitting a vibrating pager ruined his plans to ask her out.
“Was it about moving day? ‘Cause I was thinking about that, too,” Amy offers, brushing stray hairs out of her face.
“Yes!” Jake clings to Amy’s suggestion desperately. “But we can text about that later. I have flu patients to attend to, Amy! Flu patients!”
With that, he sets her chart back down and runs out of the room. The door shuts thunderously and Teddy yells ‘no running!’, but Amy can only hear the rush in Jake’s footsteps as he makes his way to the C hall.
It’s really too bad he had to leave, Amy thinks. She was just getting up the nerve to kiss him.