AN: Another tearjerker! I'm sorry, I am on a roll with these and I can't help it! This is sort of a companion piece to "The Coldest Night" but is definitely unrelated to that story and both can be read on their own. Please review, follow, favorite, etc if you enjoyed this piece. WARNING for major character death! I'm sorry (again)!

Red had foolishly believed that the worst moment of her life had been when the doors closed behind her the first day she walked into Litchfield. She believed that nothing would top it, after all, what would be worse behind these walls than dealing with the fact that she had to be behind them at all?

But she was wrong. Litchfield would eventually shatter her heart. She now felt like a shell of a woman. Everything she saw, everything she did, everyone she spoke to, had little meaning to her now. Her release was iminent, and before that terrible, bitterly cold day in January, she had been trying to prepare herself for it. Now...she saw no point.

Nicky was gone. Not sent away to Max, but gone. Her girl was dead.

Red had tried to hold onto the bitterness, the anger she felt. She held onto it as long as she could. In the hours and days after Nicky's death, she plotted her revenge, she barked orders at Norma, Lorna, Gina, Piper, and even Alex. They had a plan. They all wanted vengeance for Nicky's death. No one more than Red. If she focused on avenging her death, on the anger, then Red believed she could survive this.

No one told her that a loss of a child was not something a mother was meant to 'survive'. Nicky had been her light in the darkness. The darkness she felt inside of herself, and the darkness she felt living behind these walls. And she knew, without a doubt, that there were times when she was the same for Nicky.

Red sat alone now, in the back of a patrol car, playing with a piece of paper, clutching it in her fingers. Her hands were shaking. She didn't want to go out there. She knew if she did, then this would be real. She'd see her baby there, lifeless...again. And no one would know who she was. They would see a CO behind her, and stare, and not know how much she and Nicky had meant to each other.

I shouldn't have agreed to this, she thought. I said my goodbyes. But oh, how she longed to see her again. Just once more, dead or alive. And that is why she said yes. At least now she would know where Nicky was buried. Now when she was finally released, she could go, and sit with Nicky again, and bring her flowers from her garden, and talk to her, and just be with her.

She wanted to feel the anger again, the bitterness. It had been her plan for survival. That plan had been halted when Caputo summoned her into his office yesterday morning...

"Reznikov, you're being granted furlough. Tomorrow."

She looked up at him with questioning eyes. "Furlough? What for?"

"Nichols' funeral. It's tomorrow. I know you two were...close."

Red narrowed her eyes at him. Was this some kind of joke? Weren't they afraid she'd blow the whistle on them?

Caputo cleared his throat. "You said she was ignored, I know that. I'm looking into it Reznikov."

She laughed, a merthless laugh, a hallow sound. When she spoke, it was in a low, dangerous tone. "Why should I believe that? You covered up Washington's death with lies. You will do the same with my Nicky."

Caputo rolled his eyes and sighed. "Reznikov, if you don't want furlough, just say the word. Nichols will be buried with...or without you."

She took a deep breath. Of course she wanted furlough! She wanted to see her Nicky again. She needed to see her again...just one more time. "I'll take it. Don't ask me for a thank you."

And with that, she got up and left his office, the door closing with a soft click behind her.

The other inmates were jealous of her being granted furlough, she knew. She hated them for feeling that way. She would gladly have stayed at Litchfield for the rest of her days if it meant that Nicky was still on this earth, that she would still be here, making her laugh, making everyone laugh. No, there was nothing to be jealous about. The loss of her only daughter was nothing to be jealous about.

It was Caputo himself who brought her to the funeral. No doubt to smooth things over should Red choose to open her mouth and tell her entire family what had really happened to Nicky.

But he had no need to worry. She wouldn't. She had no energy left for it. She was exhausted. She just wanted to see her girl off, was comforted that she knew now that Nicky had at least one person there who truly loved her. Besides, the rioting would eventually catch the media's attention. And she knew Washington's death, and now her Nicky's, would eventually be avenged. Right now her only job was to be a mother to her girl...just one last time.

Caputo opened the door for her and she hesitantly got out. The weather was bleak. It was cold and there was a slight drizzle. It made her feel a little better knowing that even the temperature matched her mood. She wondered if she would ever feel warm again.

She doubted it.

Caputo nodded at the cordial police officer who had chauffered them to the funeral home, and with a deep breath, Red walked into the building, and instantly she felt like she was suffocating. They were ushed into the room on the right. The room was stuffy, and when her eyes laid on the casket at the front of the room, Red thought her heart would stop. The thought was not an unwelcome one. Just putting one foot in front of the other was a chore for her. Oh God, no. No. Nicky. This is real. This really happened. Moy rebanok*...I'll never see you again...

She could feel 50 pairs of eyes on her as she made her way to Nicky. She had no words of sympathy for anyone in the room. Nicky had never felt a moment of love from anyone in this room. All Nicky needed was Red, and by the grace of God, or whatever deity there was out there, she was there.

When Red saw her, wearing a white lace dress, flowers clutched in her hands by her bosom, she shook her head. This was all wrong. Nicky would have hated this. Looking back, she would find amusement in herself for her first thoughts being that Nicky's burial attire was all wrong. But it was. And she knew then, without a doubt, that her family didn't know Nicky at all. And she hated them for it. Nicky was a precious gift to this world, and none of them knew it. She tried to make Nicky see how wonderful she was, to no avail. She hoped she was able to get through to her before that horrible January night. When she held Nicky in her arms and watched the life drain from her eyes.

She sighed deeply and reached down to touch Nicky's beautiful face. "My malyshka**...I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't save you..."

She half expected Nicky to open her eyes, to sit up and wrap her arms around her neck, to comfort her, to tell her that it was all right, that this was just a terrible dream and she would wake up and give Nicky a huge hug, and Nicky would roll her eyes and tease her, but let herself be held by her mother.

But she didn't. And Red reached down and kissed her forehead, her lips lingering lovingly for a few moments. She pulled back, and the tears, the ones she had managed to hold back since the night Nicky had been taken from her, fell in earnest. Her body shook with the force of her sobs, her hands gripping the side of the casket like a life line.

She wanted to crawl in beside Nicky and be buried with her. She wasn't meant to roam the earth without her. Carrying on without her seemed unimaginable. She didn't want to. The grief she had not been prepared to feel was suddenly there, drowning her. "Nicky...Nicky please...please! This isn't real...this can't be true..." Her tears stopped and she reached down, cupping Nicky's cold face in her own, as she had done so many times before. This wasn't true. It couldn't be.

Caputo suddenly rushed forward and grabbed Red by the arm, forcing her away, much to Red's horror. "No. NO. Nicky!"

She was causing a scene, and everyone there was staring at her like she was some crazed woman off the street. Her eyes blazed at all of them, until she found the woman standing first in the receiving line. This was of course, Nicky's 'mother'. If Red could have gotten away with it, she would have wrapped her hands around the woman's throat, and sucked the life out of her. She didn't deserve to live if it meant Nicky was gone.

She took a deep breath, and wiped her face, even as more tears came. She walked up to Marka, and she spoke in a calm, even tone. "You did not deserve that child. All she wanted from you was love. I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her, to the moment her eyes closed for the last time. She was mine. MINE. I held her in my arms, through a painful detox, through deaths, and proud moments, and joyous ones. Now she is dead. Because of negligence, because for the first 25 years of her life, she had never felt love. I will die with no regrets, Marka, because I loved her and she knew it. She asked me to hold her..." Red had to take a deep breath, her voice catching in her throat. "She asked me to hold her when she was dying...she was afraid, but I was there. I was all she needed. Just remember that as you accept the condolences everyone here is offering you."

Red stormed out of the funeral home, Caputo following behind. Red wanted to be angry, she wanted to hit something, anything! But the further she walked, the more her grief began to take over. She walked, and walked, Caputo hot on her heels. She wondered briefly if the police officer would detain her and she'd be shoved back into the back of the patrol car. She didn't care if they did. She didn't care about anything anymore.

She stopped at an old oak tree by the cemetery. She couldn't walk anymore. She slid down to the ground, her back against the tree trunk. She just wanted to be alone. She reached into her pocket and took out the piece of paper that she couldn't let go of, tracing the little doodles on it. She managed a smile through her tears. Nicky loved to doodle. She had given one of her drawings to Red a few months back, and Red had cherished it. She cherished it even more now. It was a drawing of she and Nicky, well, more like elaborate stick people, really. But they were at a restaurant, free and happy, and together. Nicky had told Red that maybe some day, it would happen. They had both held onto this drawing like a dream, a dream they saw for themselves some time in the future.

Red whimpered and shook her head, and then angrily tore up the beloved drawing. Nicky's death had brought with it the end of their dreams. Nicky's death had brought Red so much pain she thought she too would die from it. How could this have happened?

She leaned her head back, and allowed her thoughts to drift back to that terrible January night...

"Ma, I don't feel good."

Red awoke to the sound of Nicky's voice. She didn't sound right. She was hovering over her, looking sick and pale.

Immediately, she was alert.

She sat up and touched Nicky's face, horrified to feel that she was burning up. She put her hand behind her ears, and Nicky leaned into the coolness of Red's touch on her skin.

Red watched as she clutched her right side, a silent scream emanating from her lips as she bent over double from the pain.

Red's eyes widened, and she helped Nicky to sit down on her bed. "Nicky, what's wrong? Talk to me! What is wrong? Did you take something?"

Nicky shook her head frantically, her eyes wide. She didn't want Red to think she had taken something. She hadn't! "No, Ma...I promise. Just...been having a bad pain since yesterday but...I thought I was just...cramping but...it's...gotten worse..."

Red reaches down to pull Nicky's hand away, but Nicky whimpers and lies down on the bed, curling in on herself. Her eyes widened. She reaches down to push Nicky's hair away from her face, a motherly gesture. "Ok, malyshka...it's ok. I'll get you some help..." She moved to get up, but Nicky grabbed her hand. "No, Ma. Don't go. Don't leave me." Her eyes widened in fear. She had found Red in her haze of pain and she couldn't let her out of her sight.

Red nods, reaching down to kiss her forehead. "I won't. I won't. I'm just going to wake up Chapman. She can get help for us. Okay?"

Nicky nods, reluctantly letting go of Red's hand. She felt like a little girl, but she was so scared. She needed Red. She needed her mother.

Within a few seconds Red was beside her again, holding her hand, shushing her. All the while Nicky was shaking in feverish agony. Red was growing anxious. Where was Chapman? Why wasn't anyone coming to help?

Nicky was squeezing her hand so tight, to relieve the pain, but mostly so she wouldn't feel alone. Red was trying to pry her hand away. "Nicky, please. I have to get help! Something is wrong..."

She noted with horror that Nicky's skin was clammy, and had taken on an almost ashen appearance. Oh, God...no.

Nicky looked up at her, her eyes full of fear. She shook her head, almost frantically. "No, Mommy...don't leave me. I can't...breathe...right..."

Red leaped up and screamed, still holding onto Nicky's hand. "God dammit! She's in pain! Someone help her!"

This woke up much of the inmates, and when her bunkmates realized what was happening, they all ran to find help.

Only help wouldn't be coming for Nicky that night.

Minutes passed, and they seemed like hours. Nicky's breathing was shallow, her face in a haze of pain. "I'm...scared..."

Red reached down and lifted her girl up, placing her head in her lap. She held her there as best she could. "No need to be scared. I'm here, Nicky. I'm right here." Her voice sounded so much stronger than she felt.

Nicky nuzzled her face as close to Red as she could. "Should have...told you...I was...I was sick..."

Red shook her head, a sob escaping her throat. "Shhh...Nicky it's okay, it's okay..."

Nicky whimpered in pain. "It hurts..."

Red looked around and suddenly she was begging anyone she saw pass by to help her. Couldn't they see? Why wasn't anyone coming to help?

Chapman finally came back at some point, and told Red that most of the CO's were gone for the night, that there was no medical staff available and that she was told to tell Nichols' to sleep it off and she'd get a check-up in the morning.

Red looked down at Nicky and started to lift her up from her lap, but Nicky wouldn't let her go. "No Ma...stop. Stop this. Don't leave me here. Don't let me die without you here...you are the only...person that loves me here. That really loves me...I need you."

Red looked up in horror at hearing Nicky's words and saw Norma hovering at the entrance of the cube. Their eyes locked and Norma shrugged sadly.

There was nothing they could do. Nicky was dying. And Red would not leave her side.

She told her that she loved her, that she was perfect and beautiful and the brightest part of her life since she had been brought here. Nicky was smiling, as if the pain was gone. Red placed butterfly kisses along her hairline, and hummed a lullaby. She was trying hard to make Nicky feel better, to no avail.

After a minute of so of silence, Nicky suddenly looked up at her, and reached up to touch Red's face. "'I'm sorry...we couldn't have...our dream...like in...my drawing."

Red kissed Nicky's fingertips and shook her head, her tears coming in waves. "It's okay, shhh..."

A single tear made its way down Nicky's cheek, and she gathered as much strength as she could. "You're the...best part...of me, Ma...I love...you..."

And when Red saw Nicky's eyes roll back in her head and her little body go limp in her arms, she shook her, and grabbed her face. "Nicky? Nicky!? No. NO."

She wrapped her up fully in her arms, and held her like a little girl, rocking her back and forth.

The inmates at Litchfield that were there that night would never be able to forget the sound of Red's broken screams as she held her daughter in her arms for the last time.

Red was broken. She would never be the same.

Red sighed brokenly as she remembered that night. She would forever remember every detail of that moment, as much as she didn't want to. She took deep, cleansing breaths, and looked up at Caputo before gathering herself, and the many pieces of Nicky's drawing, up off the ground.

She realized then that there was no need to see them put her girl in a hole in the ground. She had been there during the last moments of Nicky's life, and got to tell Marka where to go. She needed to go back to Litchfield, needed to grieve Nicky properly with her family. She needed to help them all to move on from the anger and to the grief, as she was trying to do now.

She wiped her face with the backs of her hands, and started to walk again, this time with a purpose, to the patrol car.

Caputo followed close behind. "Aren't you going to the burial, Reznikov?"

Red stopped and turned around to look at him. "No. I know where to find her. I'll come back to see her another time, so we can be alone. Let's go back to Litchfield. It's getting late."

-

A copule of months later, Red was doing a little better. She was functioning again on a daily basis, going through the motions but getting her work done just the same. She was back to putting her makeup on again, and bossing her girls around in the kitchen. She was also there to comfort Lorna when she needed it, and to seek out her own comfort in Norma when she needed it.

The nights were still the hardest. Nicky was the last thing Red thought of when she went to sleep, and the first thing she thought of when she woke in the mornings. She held onto their memories like a lifeline. They were all she had left of her. She did have Nicky's old name tag, and of course the ripped up drawing, but the memories were what kept her going.

When a small envelope arrived for her late with the mail one Monday morning as she took a break, reading one of her novels and absently playing with Nicky's name tag in the pocket of her hoodie, she narrowed her eyes curiously and put her book down, marking her spot with a bookmark first. She peered into the envelope and saw three items inside, pulling out the paper with some writing on it, first.

To the woman with the Russian accent who embarrassed me at my daughter's funeral. Whoever you are, you were right. I thought you might want these. Sincerely, Mrs. Nichols.

Red reached back into the envelope and gasped. Nicky. There were two photos of Nicky there. She was clearly laughing in the first one, looking healthy and carefree, clearly before her incarceration and maybe even before her addiction. The other one was similar, maybe taken on the same day, but she looked pensive. She was sitting on a windowsill, staring out the window, hugging her knees.

Red smiled through her tears and ran her index finger along Nicky's beautiful face. Oh, how she missed her girl. She took a deep breath and held the photos to her chest, looking up as the tears came again. Now she had photos. She could look at Nicky and remember her any time she wanted. She would be eternally grateful to Marka for the gesture, though never regretting her harsh words at the funeral, for they were the truth. Red was Nicky's mother, and she always would be, until the day she died.

One month later, Galina Reznikov walked out of Litchfield a free woman, with a heavy heart. She wore the clothes on her back, a name tag in her pocket, a ripped up drawing in another, and two photos in her hand. Litchfield had given her a daughter and then had cruelly taken her away. These momentoes were all she took from her stay there.

They were all that mattered, after all.

FIN.

*My baby

**little girl