This chapter is graphic and may contain triggering material. I advise that sensitive readers should not read this story. I do not condone or encourage any of the violent or heinous acts performed in this chapter. Thank you for any and all views, reviews, favorites and follows.
Beginning with season 16's "Spousal Privilege" and continuing into "Pattern Seventeen" and "Forgiving Rollins" (based on the promo). References to "Educated Guess" (season 13).
I own nothing. All rights go to their rightful owners.
After the case with AJ and Paula Martin, I convinced Nick to join me at a local bar. Nick was late so I began without him, pouring three drinks down my throat before I hear a familiar voice greet me.
"Hey." I respond, turning to watch him sit beside me. "I started without you."
"Went to the gym first." he turns to the woman at the bar. "What she's having, please."
Taking a last swig of my drink, I ask for another refill. My body buzzes, feeling warm and alive and guilty. "You can make it neat this time." turning to Nick, I ask, "You okay? That was rough."
"Calhoun's just doing her job." he dismisses it, but I don't.
"Yeah, but she had no right to go after you like that." I hesitate, "She's got a point, though."
He responds, "Yeah. What point is that?"
"That it's a private matter between Paula Martin and her husband. I just think we're overreaching." I explain. The bartender brings us our drinks.
"Amanda, he hit her, right? End of story." the sound of our glasses clinking together still doesn't settle my guilt.
"Wait, so we get to decide what's best for her? That's infantilizing. That's..." I scoff, "That's us making her a victim all over again."
His eyes follow my glass, "Alright, just take it easy."
I scowl, "You counting my drinks now?" leaning in closer, I grin, "Saint Nick? Right? Savior of damaged women?"
"Stop." he scowls. "All I'm saying is, no man has the right to hit a woman."
"That's right." I agree. "But some of us don't need to be saved." my thoughts flicker to Atlanta and Chief Patton. "Okay, like, you married a woman who didn't, right? Maria?" I laugh, "I saw the way she went after you in the squadroom."
"I never laid a hand on Maria." he says defensively.
"Yeah, but you never wanted to? Not at all?" I prod. "She got to you. She stills get to you."
"Right." he looks away and I force myself closer.
"That doesn't get to you?"
"No."
"Hmm? Come on." I shove him slightly. "Like that? That wouldn't get to you?"
"No." he continuous to hold his ground.
"Really? How about that?" I shove him again, "Come on, Nick, I know it does."
"Are you jealous of Maria now?" he snaps. "Is that what's happening here?"
"Really? That's where you're going?"
"Wait, what are we talking about here?" I turn away for a moment.
"Just you, Nick." I shove him.
"Hey."
"No, no, no, just drop the rock." I realize I'm standing up, back in his face.
"Settle down." he says calmly, but I continue.
"No, no, no. We've just all seen you. We've all seen you lose it. The whole squad room heard you yelling at your wife on the phone. Okay, I'm just saying," I shove him again, "Listen! Paula Martin has the right to choose whether she presses charges or not."
"Alright." he continuous staring down at the table.
"Okay? 'Cause some of us don't want to be victims." my voice gets louder, "She doesn't want to be a victim." I shove him again, and he pushes himself up from his chair. He leers at me before smashing a glass, the liquid flying across the floor. I sit back down, laughing at his reaction.
"Sorry," I giggle to the bartender, who's looking at us, annoyed.
"You know what?" Nick grabs his wallet from his jacket. "I'm gonna do what AJ Martin should've done." he places the money on the bar and his eyes meet mine. "Walk away." he takes my drink as he walks out and I lean back in my chair, trying to deal with the aftermath.
Maybe I went too far this time.
"I don't take no for an answer."
My body jolts awake, sweat dampening my skin and fear overriding my mind. Lifting my fingers to brush stands of blonde hair away from my face, I notice I'm trembling. Pushing the duvet away and getting to my feet, I push open a nearby window, the cold December air pushing in and touching my hot skin. Chief Patton's vile face fills my mind, five years of distance blurring it, and I feel my gut wrench.
Back in Atlanta, I got used to seeing his face around every corner, behind every closed door; it became a habit after I realized that nobody believed me. Who'd believe a detective's accusations against a decorated chief? He used his position and power to rape me, then used it to make me look like a liar. I close my eyes and remember the conference with my superiors, were instead of telling them the revolting crime Chief Patton had committed, I withdrew my accusation.
Standing in my uniform, holding pieces of paper with shakily written notes, I announced that, "I would like to withdraw my accusations against Chief Patton. I take full responsibility for any trouble I have caused the department, for my confusion and misinterpretation of Chief Patton's actions."
It's not something worth pursuing, I told myself as I packed for New York.
I find sleep again, somehow. When I awake, I glance at my phone, the screen displaying 09:28. I'm late.
When I bustle into the squadroom, I see everyone gathered around a whiteboard. Pictures of our newest victim and evidence fill it.
"Hey, sorry I'm late." I begin the only explanation I could think of, "Con ed was on my block, the transformer was out, so no electricity, no hot water. I had to take a shower at the gym. It was-"
"Rollins," Benson interrupts me, "A word of advice; when you're coming up with an excuse, don't oversell." she turns back to the whiteboard, and I know I've been caught in my lie.
"Copy that." I respond, relieved she doesn't want the real explanation.
"Sorry I'm late, Sargent, but I was awake all night with nightmares about my rapist - who, by the way - is Atlanta's SVU Chief." after all the trouble I've caused Olivia, I doubt she'd believe me either. She made it clear that she only keeps me here because SVU is short-staffed. When I first transferred, I thought maybe she was as kind and empathetic as everyone had said she was. I had admired her in Atlanta, for the fact that she's strong, smart and independent. She's amazing with victims, relating to them on levels that most detectives can't, but she's always been oblivious to what happened before I transferred. Once I had nearly told her I had been raped, after she told a victim she had also been assaulted. I remember asking her about it.
I had asked, "You said you were assaulted? Something happened to me on the job, that's why I had to get out of there."
"Someone you work with?" she had asked.
"It wasn't anything worth pursuing." I've repeated that line so many times since the rape.
"That's how they win. We're not going to let that happen to Gia."
That day, I had admired her wisdom more than ever. She was determined to not let the long-lasting abuse against Gia, who was in a mental facility, continue, and she didn't; her uncle was found guilty of ten years of raping and photographing her since she was fourteen.
That's how they win; keeping silent.
A.D.A Langan turns up sometime later that day, wanting to talk to Olivia in her office. I know he's worked cases involving her foster son, Noah, in the past. Olivia's expressed no reason for us to be concerned about her personal life, but that's just Olivia. Turning back to my laptop, I see Fin looking at me.
"Maybe it's a good time to get away." he says, after Benson decides we should get Atlanta's rape kits ourselves, since their backlog is a mile long.
"How do you figure?" I ask, confused.
"There's a lot going on here. You have no hot water."
"What?" I hesitate, remembering what I said this morning. "Oh. I'm fine, Fin." I assure him, though it's another person who've seen through my lies.
"They're not there, Amanda." I hear the painfully familiar voice past through my ears as I rummage through a box. Turning, I see his face in the dim light. "I got what you're lookin' for right here." he holds up three rape kits and approaches me.
Standing up and pushing the box away, I force a tight smile, "Chief Patton. Those are my rape kits?"
He stands a meter away from me, "Well, technically they're mine." his eyes meet mine, "But I heard you needed a favor." he grins.
"So naturally, when you found out I was coming, you pulled them before I got here."
"Well, I figured you'd have asked for me when you arrived. They've been in my office since yesterday, just waiting for you."
"Hmm." is the only reply I can muster, feeling intimidated, still trying to hold my ground.
He responds, "I'm trying to be helpful here, darlin'." I feel my skin scrawl.
"And I do appreciate that." I find myself submitting to him again, just like I found myself doing in Atlanta. Glancing around, I take back my confidence, "You know, it would actually be really helpful if you tested all of these rape kits."
He laughs, "You always could start an argument in an empty house." and my eyes watch him carefully, knowing he's referring to my past accusations, until I hear Fin call from behind me.
"Everything alright?"
Turning to him, I assure him, "Yeah. This is my partner, Detective Tutuola. This is Chief Patton." I introduce them, trying to calm my nerves. My thoughts flicker to what Fin would do if he knew who this man really is.
"How you doing, Chief?" he greets him kindly, shaking his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Detective." I can still feel Patton's eyes on me.
"Turns out, the Deputy Chief had set the kits aside for us all along." I inform Fin.
"A communications breakdown." the Chief assures him with his slimy charm. "Yeah, well, I'll turn over these rape kits for testing right quick. We'll put a rush on it."
"And the case files?" I ask, keeping myself composed but feeling my eyes glued to the floor.
"Files? Try initial report. See, none of these was pursuable at the time, but feel free to reopen.
"Really?" I challenge.
"If I can clear three rapes on NYPD's dime, well, that works out for all of us, doesn't it?" he laughs, his eyes looking me up and down, "Nice to see you, Amanda. Always a pleasure." he points to Fin, backing away. "Detective Tutuola." turning and leaving, we stand and watch him, the initial reports in my hands.
Turning to Fin, he says, "Made a lot of friends down here, huh?"
"They're just trying to make sure I know my place." I assure him, starting towards the exit, though I know they're just trying to make sure I keep my mouth shut.
"Aside from the DNA match, we got a confession, so Atlanta can proceed with prosecution on all three." I inform him, sitting back in my chair, trying to seem calm over the phone. He doesn't deserve the knowledge that I'm afraid of what he's capable of.
"Great news, Amanda." my name on his tongue sounds like poison. "I'm glad we were able to help. You know, I think you and I still work real well together."
My skin begins to crawl again, "Okay, Chief." I sound too eager to put the phone down. "I know you're busy. I'll let you go."
"By the way, I'm coming up there in January for a conference." I feel my heartbeat in my throat. "Maybe we could get a drink for old time's sake." glancing across the room, I feel uncomfortable.
"Maybe. It is long hours." I try to brush him off smoothly.
"Yeah, well, you know how I am. I don't take no for an answer." my eyes fixate on the wall across the room, suppressing every word I want to scream and every tear I want to let fall. He laughs, "I'll see you soon, Amanda."
Slowly and shakily taking the phone away from my ear, I place it back down on the desk.
Fin looks at me with concern, "Everything okay?"
Lifting my eyes to meet his, I force a smile, "It's all good, Fin." turning my laptop, I mumble, "It's all good." my chest feels tight and breathing becomes difficult; I feel like the air is slowly suffocating me, and I almost wish it was.
My December nights are filled with nightmares, and by early January, I feel exhausted. I haven't had this many sleepless nights since I was in Atlanta.
Yesterday morning, Chief Patton called me to say he had arrived in New York, saying he was staying at a hotel in Queens and that he'll drop by the precinct later today. My night quickly becomes hollow, every footstep and voice from outside my window becoming his. Frannie stays with me most of the night, as she did after the rape. When morning arrives, I'm forcing myself out the door and into the noisiness of Manhattan.
Everyone is in by 9am and Benson announces we've caught a new case. We all look to the whiteboard and I'm glad to have something to take my mind off Patton.
"Susan Brooks. Raped in the Upper East Side last night." she pins a photo of a blonde woman in her early 30's to the whiteboard. "Rape kit came back with no DNA, however, it turned up a foreign hair."
"Why are we only hearing about this now?" Fin asks and Olivia frowns.
"The hair belonged to Atlanta SVU Deputy Chief Patton. He's in New York for a conference. I only caught the case an hour ago." she explains. My eyes fixate on the picture of him she pins to the whiteboard, his face plastered with the same look he gave me after he raped me. I feel my skin begin to crawl.
Chief Dodds enters the squadroom, his hair pushed neatly backwards. He and Olivia enter her office for a while, until I and Fin are called in. Getting up from our desks, we join the conversation.
"Detectives, you spoke with Chief Patton in Atlanta last month?" Olivia asks.
"Yeah, he gave us the victims' initial reports for the pattern seventeen case." I answer, unsure of where this is going.
"And he was your former Chief?" Chief Dodds prods, his forehead creasing.
I respond, "Yeah. Back in Atlanta."
"You think he didn't do this?" Fin asks, though it sounds more like an accusation.
"I'm asking if Patton is capable of something like this." Dodds scowls, his eyes on me. I feel my skin becoming hot with anxiety.
"It's been five years." I say, not wanting to give a direct answer. "I can talk to my old squad; some of them are still there."
Olivia nods, "You do that. Fin, uniforms are bringing Patton in. Take a run at him."
"Copy that, Sargent." I nod as we leave, relief filling me.
After Chief Dodds leaves, Olivia calls me back into her office.
Shutting the door behind me, I say, "I've been waiting for my old partner to get back to me-"
"Amanda," she interrupts, a file in her hands. "I did some digging and found this." she passes me the file and I open the brown cover. My picture is attached to a bundle of papers and confusion fills me. Flicking through the file, I notice Chief Patton's name written on one of the pages.
Detective Amanda Rollins made an accusation of second degree sexual assault against Deputy Chief Patton, claiming he forced her to take part in vaginal intercourse. She claimed the events took place on the 4th November 2009 at midnight, whilst she was working overtime at the Special Victims Unit. Detective Rollins claims she received an exam at Piedmont Hospital, though there is no record of a rape kit. When Deputy Chief Patton was questioned, he denied any inappropriate contact with Detective Rollins. Several weeks after the alleged incident, Detective Rollins withdrew her accusation against Deputy Chief Patton, claiming she had misinterpreted his actions, before later transferring to the New York Special Victims Unit.
I feel my mouth go dry as I close the file and my eyes meet Olivia's. "I-" I clear my throat but I'm speechless. Her brown eyes look saddened.
"Amanda, if he raped you-"
"It's not something worth pursuing." I interrupt. "I can handle it on my own."
She pauses a moment, looking at me with a frown. "What about Susan Brooks? If we can prove Patton is a violent man, we may have a chance of getting her some justice." I swallow a lump in my throat that hasn't moved all morning. "Can you go back to that detective you were five years ago?"
Can you go back to that victim you were five years ago?
Fin and Nick's interrogations with Chief Patton don't go well, with him denying every charge against him, and when word about my past gets to Barba, he subpoenas me to testify. When I'm called to the stand, I feel myself shaking. After I say the oath, the questions begin.
"Detective Rollins, how do you know the defendant?" Barba questions, sitting at the table ahead of me.
"Deputy Chief Patton was my superior officer for six years." I answer, wiping the sweat from my palms onto my jeans.
"Before you transferred?"
"I transferred to New York five years ago." I confirm, knowing the inevitable question will soon arise.
"Why did you transfer from Atlanta?" he stands, moving in front of the desk.
Inhaling deeply, I admit, feeling my face becoming hot with emotion, "Something happened."
Barba's voice becomes gentler, quieter, "Detective, did you leave because of the defendant?"
Tears spill onto my cheeks as I stare ahead. After five years, I can finally be honest and be believed. Nodding, I breathe, "He raped me."