(Trigger warnings: brief mention of sexual assault)
Marvin Was Right: Part Two
Sasha sat dazed in the kitchen of the stately all brick townhouse. She sneered at the high end white cabinets and marble countertops, but the scribbled colors stuck to the fridge made her remember her little budding artist, gone too soon.
She sobbed and wiped her wrist across her wet eyes. The razor sharp butcher's blade from the knife block glared briefly under the halogen lights. The cordless phone on the table lit up green as it warbled again and again, urgently ringing. But Sasha couldn't hear it.
Mentally, she was back at the frat house the night of Mason's party. She could still feel the shock of cool air on her thighs when her jeans were yanked down. She could still hear the bass from the floor below her as the entire party danced to 'Party Rock Anthem'. She could still see the picture of her attacker between his uppercrust parents in the photo on his dresser while he held her down.
Presently, a muffled whimper from the other side of the table made her focus again on the other occupant of the room. She pushed her chair back and stood up, her eyes narrowed with disgust. Raising her weapon, she wordlessly repeated her threat before she untied the scarf knotted at the back of his head.
Robbie Vogt swallowed hard as he trembled under her gaze. He spoke cautiously, barely audible over the trilling of the telephone. "I have a family. A wife and kids…"
Sasha interrupted him. "I know you do. A pretty wife. A boy and a girl. An entire pediatric practice with your name on it. Doctor Robert Vogt… do people call you Robert now," she asked, mocking his guise in the community.
"Guess what I have? Nothing. No family," Sasha shrugged. "No kids. I don't have anything thanks to you. And I never will."
Everywhere she tried to find love, it seemed to be a mirage. Things that should have fit perfectly were always ill-formed and uncomfortable. Michonne didn't want her and in hindsight, Sasha could understand why. As broken as she was, she didn't deserve a woman like Michonne.
Not that Rick did either… but she could see how his steady character was more inviting than her hot-blooded nature.
Her best friend's words kept coming back to her,
"We both know what this is really about. A hundred convictions on these cops won't heal what's hurting you as long as Robbie Vogt is out there living his life unpunished."
Raj told her the same thing when their short-lived little romance fizzled. They'd gotten in an argument and she trashed his apartment in a rage. She never told him about what happened to her all those years ago. But it didn't take a crystal ball for him to see that some past trauma had her in a cage of anger.
"You're a goddess, queen. Powerful. The original woman." Raj had told her before he ended things between them. "But if you don't find what's broken inside you, you'll never be able to use that power for anything but ruin."
So she sank inside herself, in a dark place. Like a predator in the shadows waiting for its prey. She stalked and sniffed the good doctor out. She found him in his cozy life and sank her teeth into him. Now all she had to do was eat him whole.
Since she ambushed him at his door, Robbie Vogt had time to think. Time to place her in his memory. Time to realize what this was all about. Time to remember exactly what he'd done to her. Time to hope that the incessant ringing of the phone would buy him a little more... time.
"I don't know what to say…"
"What could you say? What words are you gonna say to me to give me my fucking life back?."
"Please!" He shouted in desperation, 'You don't have to do this!"
Sasha leaned into his face, just as desperate and shouted right back. "And you didn't have to do what you did… did you? You didn't have to do what you fucking did!"
Robbie broke down in tears. The escalating tension made him focus on the phone now more than ever.
"White people never have to do what they do. You didn't have to pack ships with black bodies and enslave them in a distant land! You didn't have to whip us and hang us from trees! You didn't have to attack Tulsa because we were thriving. You didn't have to sick us with dogs and spray us with fire hoses when all we wanted was to be treated like human beings…"
Robbie had heard enough. The phone went silent and the quaking he'd succumbed to vanished when he barked back. "I DIDN'T DO ANY OF THOSE THINGS! You're talking about things that happened before you and I were born! What happened between us was an innocent mistake. I thought you liked me… we were both buzzed… I never owned any slaves or lynched anybody or... "
Sasha quieted him. "NO!" Her chest pumped furiously as she tried to keep herself from crying. "You only took advantage of a drunk girl with a crush. And then took advantage of a system where people who look like you will always be privileged with society's good graces."
"Sasha!" The amplified voice of Captain Dawn Lerner came through a bullhorn from the street just outside Robbie's house. A tiny little brunette stood behind a barricade crying into her palms worried to tears for her husband's safety. "Sasha, we're trying to talk to you. Please just pick up the phone. We can talk about this and make sure everybody has a life after this."
Sasha scoffed. Captain Lerner hadn't said anything believable the first time she called Doctor Vogt's house trying to convince her to release him. Sasha was done talking. She gripped the knife handle tighter.
"Sasha, I know you don't want to talk to me," Dawn said. "But I have your friend here with me.
Will you please answer the phone?"
Hearing that made Sasha a little more attentive, expectant.
"Please talk to them," Robbie pleaded.
"Shut the fuck up!" Sasha tried to get a peek outside through the window at the top of the front door without being seen. Suddenly the phone tolled again, startling her.
As she went to it, she glared at her captive's audacity to try and hurry her along. "Hello?"
"Sasha?"
It was not the voice she expected, still, oddly enough, she was relieved to hear it.
"Superman…" she chuckled hopelessly into the line. "You can't save me, dude."
A wistful smile curled Rick's lips. "I know. Because you're gonna save yourself."
"When the captain said she had 'my friend' with her, I didn't think she meant you."
"Why not? I'm your friend. I've eaten lo mein on your couch... I've got your number saved in my phone. Under a nickname and everythang."
"Nickname?"
"Lex Luthor." They both laughed nervously and a thick pause hung between them.
"What are you doing here, Rick? Michonne tell you to come…"
"Michonne doesn't know anything about this yet. She's at therapy. Nowhere near a TV. So you've gotta let that guy go and come out, so when she does hear about this it'll be a happy endin'."
"Happy ending? I've got a white doctor at knifepoint. I already know I'm going out like Cleo."
"Who's Cleo?"
Sasha shook her head. "Just another black woman that you wouldn't understand."
"Okay… how's this for understandin' black women," Rick prompted. "The doctor has three other women accusing him of rape. Black women just like you. They saw this happenin' on the news and they called in to Lerner's precinct."
Sasha was stunned. "How many women have you done this to?" She kicked Robbie's chair, demanding an answer.
"You were the last one. I swear. I was young and stupid back then. I'm a different person now."
"Oh fuck you! That is bullshit! People like you don't change…"
"Sash…" Rick reclaimed her attention and spoke with a low, calming tone, "I know you feel like you couldn't tell anyone… that no one would believe you. You've been trying to live life like this never happened. That hasn't worked. You try to take out your anger on anyone else who fits his description, no matter how vaguely. That hasn't worked."
Holding the phone in one hand, the knife in the other, she paced the room shaking her head. As much as she didn't want to hear what Rick was saying, she felt validated listening to him.
"You feel like the only way to get over this is to take matters into your own hands. Because you're a warrior. But you shouldn't have to be. You shouldn't have to suffer just to have some semblance of a happy endin'. But that's the way it is, Sash. That's the reality."
Rick sighed, his heart heavy with all the things he'd seen in his time on the force. "Do you know how many women I find beaten, violated… murdered. And I ask myself, what the fuck is wrong with the world… because odds are… the women I'm called to protect... overwhelmingly look like you. They look like Michonne. They rarely talk to me. They never press charges. But I can see it in their eyes. They're always one bad day away from snappin'."
"Exactly! So why shouldn't I just do what I came here to do?" She grit her teeth. "Gut this motherfucker like a pig. Watch him bleed out."
"Because you can have a happy endin'. Even now," Rick said. Even as Captain Lerner's expression betrayed her skepticism of a peaceful outcome and her crisis team looked eager to bring this whole standoff to an end, bloodshed or not.
"Sounds good, Rick. I see how you have Michonne living in a fairytale. But if I don't do it, this piece of shit will get away with it."
"It's not a fairytale, Sasha. Dammit," the sheriff vehemently shouted. "Look, I heard him confess. He just said you were the last one. I'll testify. I'll make sure you have the best lawyers. I promise you, I swear. I'm gonna do everythang I can to make sure you're okay. Just please… please come on out here, now."
Hearing the conviction and tenderness in his voice, Sasha was truly touched. But she decided not to let it move her. "Just worry about my best friend. Just take care of her when I'm gone."
"No, Sasha. No!" Rick's fingers flew across his cellphone screen, searching. A quick scroll. A tap. Music. Marvin Gaye. "Just listen… listen to this…"
The chatter of a jive-talking crowd. The soulful run of trumpets.
"Remember your mom used to love this song?" As he spoke, he prayed this would work. "Michonne told me your mom had a serious thing for this guy. I heard y'all used to sing this song together cleanin' the house on a Saturday mornin'. Michonne would 'try' to sing it too."
Sasha wiped her tears as the melody coming from the receiver took her back to those happy times. "Your girlfriend can't hold a note to save her life," she reminisced with a sad chuckle. No matter how off key, Michonne's was the one voice that always made Sasha happy.
"Would you sing for me?" Rick asked, at the end of his rope. "Might as well be your swan song… especially If you're goin' out like Queen Latifah in that movie where they rob banks…" His forehead was slick with sweat as he jokingly touted his knowledge of the black all-female cast. The anxious grin on his face was heard by Sasha on the other end of the phone. "Come on, Sash. I'll sing it with you."
Trying to coax the young woman out of despair and into optimism, he mumbled out the lyrics and let the late singer carry the harmony of the second verse.
"Father, father…"
Sasha thought, what the hell. She loved to sing and she couldn't say no to Marvin, Michonne, her mommy and those memories. Robbie Vogt sat dumbfounded when she closed her eyes and sang.
"We don't need to escalate.
War is not the answer.
For only love can conquer hate."
The buttered fluidity of her vocals amazed Rick yet again. How such a fiery vessel could hold such a heavenly gift, he found a mystery. He didn't attempt to make another sound. He just let her be in that moment with those healing words.
"You know we've got to find a way,
To bring some loving here today."
Rick turned to Captain Lerner and whispered, "I can get her out of there safe if you let me go in."
"No chance in hell," she told him bluntly. "You're doing just fine out here. It was pure professional courtesy that got you on the phone with her in the first place, but this is still my jurisdiction."
Rick's jaw tensed in frustration. He looked the captain in the eye as he listened to Sasha vocalize. Dawn meant business and he knew she would not take any challenge to her authority lightly. But he'd be damned if he was going to let this situation go left so she could save face.
"Arrest me," he finally said, defying jurisdiction. Rick began a march toward the house.
Dawn spoke into her walkie, commanding her officers nearest the residence to detain the sheriff. Two left their positions and approached Rick, posturing on the offensive. The death-glare they received from him stopped them in their tracks.
He walked right by them as their superior's voice ordered them sharply through their comms. Twisting the knob on their devices to mute her, they watched Rick slowly push open the front door.
In the large foyer, he scanned the living room and dining room with no sign of Sasha or Robbie. The song in his pocket had ended and there was an eerie silence in the halls. He cautiously called her name. When she didn't answer, he moved ahead toward the back of the house.
Sasha sat in the kitchen's window seat, framed by crown moulding and matching drapes and bench cushions. In all the room's bright splendor, she was bent double, languishing in her gloom.
The knife still in her hand, she rocked back and forth repeating, "What's going on? What's going on? What's going on?" None of the flowery notes from before. Just her shuddering, hollow voice questioning the state of things as they stood.
Her best friend seemed like a stranger. Her innocent godson died a violent death and no one was being held accountable. She was holding a man hostage at knifepoint with a swat team poised to cut her down in a hail of bullets. If only someone could just explain to her what was going on.
The young doctor glimpsed the figure of someone else in the room. He roused from his own private reflections, begging hysterically for help.
When Sasha noticed Rick standing there, hands up and pity on his face, her mood changed on a dime. Jumping to her feet, she lodged the blade snugly at the doctor's neck.
"You're not going to talk me out of this, Rick." Her voice was steady and strong. "You got your song, now leave me the hell alone. I'm getting justice today. You may have talked Michonne out of doing what needs to be done…"
"The only thing that needs to be done today is some understandin'. I understand your hurtin'. I understand you deserve justice. But I'm here, Sasha. I'm here for you."
Rick thought for a second. As much as this situation wasn't about him, he thought maybe she needed to understand him as well. Maybe if she did, she could at least begin to trust him.
"Did you know I'm gettin' fired?" He watched her face change at the news. "Yeah. Well, technically, I'm resignin'. But they're forcin' me to. Because of what happened to Andre. And my best friend… I don't know if you heard, one of the deputies involved in Andre's death, he killed himself."
Rick's eyes watered.
"I carry it like a ton of bricks everyday. My son… he's… well, he's been headin' to a dark place. I been tryin' to point him towards the light, but I'm not sure if I can. I love Michonne so much but I have to keep things from her to keep her from being hurt anymore, and it's takin' a toll on us." His sincerity weighed down his tongue with country twang. "It's takin' a toll on the one thang in my life that's a sure thang."
"You poor white American man…" Sasha mocked him bitterly, although inside she sympathized with the pressure he was under.
It was odd, but hearing about the strain in their relationship made her heart go out to them. She realized that she really only wanted Michonne to be happy. No matter who she was with.
"The point is if I didn't care about you… I got enough on my plate. These days I could go in any direction and have my ass handed to me. I wouldn't be here if I didn't care."
His eyes, glassy and fretful, convinced her. She was this close to giving in. But she'd seen enough arrests to know that a face full of pavement and a knee in the back was waiting for her if she surrendered. More than the prospect of physical abuse, public humiliation knotted her stomach.
"I don't want to go to jail, Rick. I don't want to… I don't want them to hurt me."
"No one's gonna hurt you, Sasha. I won't let them," Rick swore. "Just put the knife down. We'll walk out together."
Sasha's brow was bunched and her eyes matched the sheriff's. She looked past him to the front door, scared to death of what awaited her. She looked at Robbie and her anger started to build that he was seeing her in this vulnerable moment.
"Don't think about him," Rick said, almost as if he could read her mind. "Just leave him… just come with me."
When Sasha walked out of Doctor Vogt's house shadowing the sheriff. He led her along holding her hand.
"We'll take over from here, Sheriff Grimes," said one of Captain Lerner's officers. The big dark haired man reached for his cuffs and Sasha at the same time.
"Why don't you head on in there and put those on the doctor. Ms. Williams is gonna be pressing charges against him for sexual assault. You can meet us at the station for her statement."
...
By the time Rick got home to Michonne, the reports of Sasha's standoff were more about the upstanding doctor's indiscretions than her attempt at vigilantism. Rick had stayed with her through booking and processing. Before he left he put the fear of god in everyone on duty that she be extended every courtesy, as if she were a member of his family. He had no doubt, they'd comply.
Michonne was thankful to Rick beyond words. She was almost too stunned to speak. But the more she thought about it, the more she had to admit to herself that Sasha's actions were not surprising.
Tears streaked her cheeks as she thought about the private hell Sasha had been in all these years. She couldn't wait to visit her best friend and tell her how proud she was that she trusted someone enough to lay down her anger. Rick, of all people.
And it wasn't lost on her that Rick was able to talk her down because he had listened religiously to all her stories. So he knew her and because he knew her he knew Sasha.
By the time Michonne was through telling Rick about her day, he sat just as stunned as she had. Carl wouldn't open up to Hershel, but the old timer's farm also provided equine therapy. Hershel had seen it work with plenty of kids over the years.
The empathic nature of horses almost always had a calming effect on his patients. Watching the boy's interactions with Sadie, the speckled mare, told Hershel more than he would have learned from any verbal response from Carl.
While Michonne walked the farm grounds, sticking to the barns to stave off the cold, Rick's son was using the coarse bristles of a grooming brush to settle his temper instead of a gun. Nurturing a peaceful living thing instead of using violence against contempt.
Rick's son contemplating doing something so reckless, made the sheriff feel like the whole world was falling apart. But the coincidence of Michonne being there for Carl while he was protecting Sasha also gave him the feeling that all the shattered pieces were falling into place.
As Michonne curled up under him in their bed, Rick kissed the top of her head. "Look at us babe," he said, feeling confident to face anything with her. "We make a good team. You keepin' score? Marvin was right. Love, two. Hate, zip."