Incarceration

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By: Akiko, Keeper of Sheep

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"Let persecutors send saints to prison, God can provide a keeper for their turn." ~ William Gurnall

She knew she shouldn't be here.

The rest of the Rangers, old and new, had tried their best to hide this from her. They had downplayed the crime, omitted the name of the perpetrator, avoided the trial, and when the time came for him to be sentenced, Tommy had taken her shopping so she wouldn't hear about it.

She would kick his ass for that, the heartless bastard.

She knew they didn't understand. They couldn't possibly understand. Maybe she was sick, like Rocky. It was a decent explanation for why she couldn't muster up a bit of guilt or compassion for the dead men. All she felt was relief. Dead men wouldn't come after her for turning them in, after all.

Why they had bothered, she couldn't fathom. They had to know that she would be keeping a close eye on everything to do with her situation. It was her right, wasn't it, to know what was going on? Didn't it affect her? But no, they had done as they always did, assuming they knew best and taking the decision out of her hands. So much of her control over her own life had already been compromised. She would brook no further attempts to dictate her life.

So here she was, facing a man she should be disappointed in, or disgusted with, thick Plexiglas and a sea of unspoken sentiments separating them.

"Orange really isn't your color," she opened with, smiling affectionately.

He grinned back. "Yeah, well, they stopped letting me pick what I wore. I think they think I can't make sound decisions anymore."

"Can't imagine why."

Rocky laughed. "Couldn't be the multiple murders, could it?"

"Maybe." Her voice went soft, and her smile turned sad. "You didn't have to, Rocky. You know that, right?"

Shrugging, the man leaned back in his chair, sandwiching the phone between his ear and shoulder and crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I did."

"Rocky-"

"No, listen." He leaned forward again, staring at her intently. His eyes were bright with fervor, and she wondered for a moment if maybe he was as crazy as everyone said. "I had to do it. It was the right thing to do. I know that you don't believe that," he added off her startled look, "and believe me, I'm glad you don't. But if I hadn't done it, I would have regretted it."

What could she say to that, especially when she, herself, was glad that he'd committed this sin? Even though she knew it didn't solve anything, and even though she knew that if Rocky hadn't intervened, the men in question would have been arrested as planned, she couldn't help but be glad those men were dead. It would be easier, she surmised, to fight them off in her dreams if she didn't have to fear fighting them off in reality.

"The others think I'm crazy, you know."

This soft, sad admission brought her back to the situation at hand. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, they kind of do. They want to petition the court to get you treatment."

Rocky snorted. "Right. Treatment for a sense of clarity."

"What did you find out," she asked curiously. She had heard enough about his exchanges with the current Ranger team to know that he'd had some kind of epiphany during the commission of the murders. Whatever it was, it made him ridiculously at ease with his fate. It would be nice if she could get that kind of closure.

"I figured out two things." He smiled at her. "You really want to know what they were?"

She nodded, trying not to let the unease curling in her stomach show on her face.

"Well, once I'd killed them, I had a little time to think about it - you know, why I did it, if it was the right thing to do. And I never once doubted that it was. And I realized that no matter how good, how human someone seems, there's a little bit of monster in all of us."

She shivered. His gaze was searing into her, picking into her thoughts as though he knew about the monster in her. And he probably did. Rocky was always very empathic like that. She had never understood how people could think he was dense; Rocky was one of the most observant and understanding people she knew. True, he didn't always know he was doing it, but he had always been sensitive to the thoughts and moods of others, adjusting his behavior to suit theirs.

"And the other thing?"

Reaching out, Rocky touched the glass lightly with his fingertips. "I realized," he said quietly, his face filled with adoration, "that I was in love with you."

Tears filled her eyes. He had been right to doubt her - she hadn't wanted to know that.

"Rocky, please, tell me that's not why you did it. Tell me you didn't kill them for me."

"A little," he said, leaning away again. "But you know I don't believe in justice."

"No," she huffed, more than a little upset that he, too, was trying to shield her from things, "but you do believe in retribution. An eye for an eye?"

Rocky scoffed, looking a little hurt. "I didn't rape them. I'm not that sick."

Guilt flooded her. Rocky had killed them for her, because of what they'd done to her. She had thought, given the information, that he had simply been as horrified as she had been by the information that they'd be walking free in twenty years, free to do to other women what they'd done to her. They were monsters, he had told Tommy. Power Rangers destroy monsters.

Thinking back on it, she wasn't surprised that they thought he was insane.

Now she knew. He had killed them in anger, revenge for her and her alone. He had killed them for her. The thought should make her feel sick, furious, something. But all she felt was guilt. Not over the pigs that had been slain, but over Rocky. He was here because of her.

"I never asked you to die for me, Rocky."

He grinned, just a smart-ass kid again. "Part of the deal, Bonita. The world needs justice."

"Will you stop that," she hissed. His grin faded. "This isn't a game, Rocky. They're going to kill you for this."

Another shrug. "Sure, in forty or fifty years, when all the monsters before me have gone. Does that seem right to you," he suddenly segued, looking perturbed. "I mean, these guys have committed some of the most disgusting, evil crimes known to man, and instead of swift justice," he sneered, "they get half a century of free meals and education. The only difference between that and not being caught is the orange jumpsuit."

She snickered. "That's pretty cruel and unusual punishment in itself, don't you think?"

As planned, her smile had disarmed him. How, how had she not noticed this before? How the hell had she not known how he felt about her?

"I'm okay," he suddenly interjected.

She stopped smiling and cleared her throat. "I'm not." Mimicking his earlier motions, she pressed her hand to the barrier between them. "I don't want to lose you, Rocky."

"I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," he replied calmly, reaching out to trail his fingertips over her palm. She felt her skin tingle where his would have touched it. Her tears overflowed.

"Don't cry," he whispered. "I never want you to cry for me."

She nodded, wiping her eyes hurriedly. She had to leave soon, or she'd never get back before they realized she hadn't gone to the beach. She bid Rocky goodbye, promising to come visit again next weekend. As she made her way through the security checkpoint and pondered gifts she could bring, she came to a decision.

The sun was setting when Kimberly left San Quentin, and as daylight faded into night, she swore that she would do whatever it took to set Rocky free.

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Author's Note -

Huzzah! Part two of my little trio of one-shots is done! Shorter than the first, I think, but I like it anyway.

Yes, this is Rocky/Kim. Sorry if that's not your bag, but I just can't get over how cute that pairing is, even when I'm tormenting them. =P

I'd also like to say that the characters' opinions about capital punishment do not necessarily reflect my own views. I'm just writing what I think they would feel. Please don't flame me for that, because I have it on good authority that people are slightly flammable.

There's one more in this series. I've already got it planned out, and after that I might do a few companion pieces from other Rangers' points of view. You never know.

Aaaaaaanyway…please review. I know it seems like a little thing, but I judge how well-received my fics are by my reviews, not my hits. I've read many, many fics I didn't care for, and have come to the conclusion that a hits counter does not accurately portray how liked your fic is. I'll continue this regardless, because I'm writing it for myself as well as others, but it'll feel so much more like an accomplishment if I hear from others how well I'm doing. Plus, one can never improve unless one knows where one is weak. So please, please review.

Peace.

Akiko =D