#pimemento

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!

Sure anon :) Takes place after S7E3, Pimemento

ooo

"Boyle?" a voice asked behind him.

Charles swiveled around in his chair to find Rosa staring at him, her expression concerned and confused.

"Hey, Diaz," Charles commented, not bothering to give her another glance, keeping his gaze focused on the case sitting on his desk.

Rosa frowned: it wasn't unusual for anyone to call her Diaz, but coming from Charles? It made her feel uncomfortable, so she set a hand on his shoulder. She noticed him tense up from the contact, and she immediately guessed something had happened between him and Jake.

"What are you doing?"

He let out a groan. "A case, what else?"

Now she was sure something had happened between Charles and Jake. She gripped his shoulder tightly, and spun him around so that he was facing her. To her surprise, Charles didn't shy away from her intense scrutiny like he, or anyone, usually would. He glared right back at her, giving her a harsh look, but Rosa didn't flinch: she knew he wasn't going home, he spent his free days at work, and his wife and son were getting worried. It was also pretty visible that he wasn't acting like his usual self: he was growing out a heavy stubble, there were bags underneath his eyes, and he usually smelled of alcohol. Rosa noticed that he never wore his usual plain shirt, khakis, tie, and dress shoes anymore, opting for a simple NYPD hoodie and jeans. While it wasn't a bad outfit, she knew it wasn't approved by Captain Holt, along with the fact that it was out of character for Charles.

"Take your hand off my shoulder," he mumbled, his voice cold.

"No," Rosa said curtly. "I know something's up, and I want to know what it is. You're never like this."

He let out a harsh laugh, standing up, ripping his shoulder away from her tight grip. "I think that's the problem! Maybe I should be like this more often." With that, he headed towards the evidence room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Rosa spent the day watching the surveillance footage from the evidence room: Charles sat down at the spare desk, finishing cases with alarming speed. He would grab another one off the shelf, and would solve it so fast, she was positive that even Jake couldn't keep up.

Knowing she wasn't going to get to Boyle, she decided to go talk to Jake.

"Peralta," Rosa frowned, crossing her arms, looming over him. "What's up with Boyle?"

Jake frowned. "How should I know? I haven't seen him all day."

"He's in the evidence room, because he doesn't want to face any of us," she said plainly, and his eyes widened.

"Damn," he groaned. "I knew he would make it a big deal."

"Make what a big deal?" Amy asked, stepping over to them.

Jake sighed. "Rosa, remember when Amy told you we were going to try for a baby? Well, Charles didn't know, until last week, when Pimento came in with his memory loss. I told Adrian, because I assumed he would just forget what I told him. But… he didn't, and ended up telling Charles."

Rosa glared at him. "Jake—"

"I know it was wrong, but Amy didn't want him to know. Charles was really hurt, and he said he couldn't remember why we were even friends," Jake ran his fingers through his brown locks. "He was also angry that I kept blowing him off."

"But I thought you fixed all this." Amy frowned.

Jake sighed. "We did… I don't know what the problem is now! If anything, he's the one blowing me off!" Jake cried dramatically.

Rosa nodded. "I'll go talk to him."

She walked towards the evidence room, and knocked on the door. "Boyle, open ip. It's me. I need an old case file."

Rosa heard him trudge towards the door, and he slowly unlocked it, not bothering to look at her. He walked back to the spare desk that lied in the evidence room, keeping his eyes on the case. Rosa shut the door, locking it behind her.

"Alright. We need to talk."

Charles stared at her in disbelief. "You lied to me just to get in here?"

Rosa rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Tell me what's wrong, Charles. This isn't you."

He smirked. "Well, maybe I'm sick of being myself. Maybe… maybe if I wasn't myself, Amy would have trusted me with the news of her and Jake trying for a baby. Face it, Diaz, I'm just not one of the gang. I'm not you, or Holt, or Amy, or Terry, or Gina! I'm just… on the sidelines, connected to Jake: somebody who doesn't even want to be connected to me." Charles shut the last case he was working on, and let out a small groan.

Before Rosa could reply to the shocking words he had just said, he added, "Can you tell Holt that I'm going to go home? Niko will still be at school, and Genevieve won't be home for another 2 hours. Maybe I can get a quick shower in."

Rosa felt her heart shatter at the sight of the man who knew her best falling apart—she wanted to help, but how could she? These were Boyle's own feelings of not feeling adequate or as "in" as the rest of the group. He felt like a black sheep, and that was understandable. How was she supposed to help? What was she supposed to say? It was usually Charles reassuring the group, Charles holding them together, Charles giving them advice: they had been so busy with their own problems, that they were completely oblivious to Boyle's misery.

They were selfish.

Boyle grabbed his things, and before he could exit, he turned to her. "You know? After my divorce, there were only a few things keeping me from falling apart: my parents, my dogs, and… and this precinct, including the people in it. I care about everyone here more than myself… it just hurts to know that they don't feel the same way."

With that, he left her alone inside the evidence room. She eyed the desk where he had been working, and sat down at the vacant chair.

ooo

There was a gentle tap on her shoulder, followed by another persistent tap.

"Rosa?"

Rosa blinked. Where was she?

"Amy? God… where am I?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"The evidence room. You've been in here for almost 2 hours." Amy frowned.

Rosa stretched. "I guess I was just… thinking."

Amy leaned on the desk. "About?"

"Boyle,"  Rosa answered. "And how awful we are to him."

Amy snorted, and opened her mouth to protest. "Rosa—"

"Amy!" Rosa snapped. "He keeps this precinct glued together! He makes sure we're okay, he supports Jake to no end. In fact, his and Jake's friendship is one sided! Have you ever seen Jake supporting Charles, to the extent that Charles supports him?!" she began ranting.

Amy was taken aback. "Rosa, you need to calm down—"

"No!" Rosa snapped. "He took 2 bullets for me! We spent 2 years calling him Mr. Grapes, which I know was a joke, but it must have been hurting him! He… he loves us, but we haven't been great about showing him that we love him back. That's why he's been down! That's why he's been avoiding us, his family, and it's also why he's been staying here, solving more cases than you and Jake solved during your little bet!"

Amy scoffed. "That's impossible… Charles isn't even that smart, he can't—'"

Rosa shoved one of his finished case files into her hands, and she opened it, studying the contents. Amy's eyes widened: his notes were clean and detailed, his writeup went above Holt's expectations…

"He said he was too afraid to 'take anyone's thunder'." Amy managed weakly, the truth of Rosa's words sinking into her.

"Because he puts other people's needs in front of his own," Rosa said quietly and bitterly. "Remember that airplane ride back to Brooklyn? After you gained intel on Figgis? Who was reassuring you?"

"Boyle was."

"Who convinced Jake to carry on with your relationship?" Rosa prompted.

"Boyle did."

Rosa seethed. "Who set up your goddamn wedding?!"

Amy grew annoyed. "Boyle did!"

Rosa chuckled. "And you couldn't trust him with the fact that you and Jake were trying for a baby."

Amy felt tears prick her eyes. "I didn't know it would hurt him that bad!"

"Because we don't care about his emotions!" Rosa cried. "He cares about us, but we don't care about him… what kind of friends are we?"

With that, Rosa left Amy inside the evidence room. She grabbed her motorcycle helmet: if Amy was right about the fact that she had fallen asleep for 2 hours, Boyle should have just been leaving his house, especially if he didn't want to be discovered by his wife and son.

"Detective Diaz!" Holt called, but Rosa ignored him. She ran towards the stairwell, dashing for her motorcycle. She needed to see him. She needed to talk to him.

Amy ran out of the evidence room. "Where did she go?"

Jake frowned. "She left, and took her motorcycle helmet and left. What's wrong?"

Amy grabbed her keys. "I just watched the surveillance footage, before Boyle left the building. He looked really hurt. I think he's in trouble." Before Jake could ask anymore questions, Amy left the precinct, and Jake was quick to follow.

ooo

Rosa pulled up to the Boyle household, inspecting the building: his car was still out, so he had to be here.

"Charles!" Rosa snapped, pounding the door.

When there was no answer, she felt a sinking feeling in her gut, and she didn't hesitate to grab her gun. She found herself shooting the doorknob, and kicking the door down.

She heard soft sobs coming from Nikolaj's bedroom, so she quietly crept her way towards it.

"I'm so sorry, buddy," Charles whimpered, clutching his son's shirt. "I thought I'd be strong enough for this, but I… I can't do this." he sniffled.

Her eyes widened when she spotted a knife near him. When he reached for it, she didn't hesitate to kick the door open. She tackled him, and punched him across the jaw—he didn't get angry like she expected, in fact, he didn't respond at all. He squeezed his eyes shut, allowing his tears to flow freely, and Rosa pulled him into a hug: they stayed like that, with her holding him, running her hands through his hair. He buried his face into her chest, and she felt her jacket become wet with his tears, but she didn't care.

That's how Jake and Amy found them: with Charles clutching onto Rosa for dear life, a knife just a few feet away from them. Jake slowly walked inside the bedroom, dropped onto his knees, and wrapped both Rosa and Charles in a hug, gently resting his chin on top of Boyle's head. Amy was quick to join, wrapping her arms around Boyle's waist, pulling him in close.

No context was needed. 

ooo

I love Charles and Rosa’s friendship.