Before her eyes can adjust to the light, before the fresh air reaches her lungs, the first thing Piper notices is the warmth. SHU was always cold and damp, her prison jumpsuit doing little to stifle the chill. Out here though, it was gloriously warm.
The guard's grip is tight on her arm as he leads her to Morello's van. He unceremoniously shoves her in the back seat and closes the door behind her. The door slams hard into her elbow, but Piper doesn't mind. She doesn't even give him an annoyed look for fear of being thrown back in SHU.
"You must be freezing." Her eyes snap to Morello in the front seat. Her voice sounds foreign to Piper's ears. She must look horrible judging by the wary look on Lorna's face. "I brought your jacket."
Piper doesn't trust her voice so she just nods and wraps the coat around her. It hangs off her frame more than she remembers. Morello doesn't say much on the way back, for which the blonde is grateful, and Piper rests her head against the glass. A thin layer of snow still coated the ground, but the warming winter sun was bringing life back to the woods around the prison.
In the distance she could see Litchfield rise over the hill and couldn't help but feel like she was coming home.
Piper knows she still has shitty luck when they make it back by lunch time. She's starving for a meal not made entirely of mold, but all she really wants to do is curl up in her bunk and sleep for a week. Every eye is on her as she enters the cafeteria. When even O'Neill looks at her with surprise, Piper knows she must look bad.
Her hair is longer and tangled. You don't get a brush in SHU and she stopped caring about keeping it nice after week three. From some angles she looked gaunt, her collarbones and shoulders poking out of her jumpsuit at sharp angles. She was stronger than ever now though. Her muscle mass had increased as much as it could with the level of nourishment she received.
The room turned silent as she walked in. Piper never gave much thought to this part, where she had to reintegrate with the other women. Did she sit by herself? Follow Morello to her old group and sit between Big Boo and Alex? Alex . . . whose eyes connected with hers briefly before looking down to her tray. The decision was made for her as she heard cheers from her old dorm mates.
"Look at this killer!" Black Cindy said with a delighted slap on her back. Piper's small smile faltered a bit at the comment. Doggett wasn't dead, though Piper did put her in a coma for a few days. Morello told her on the drive up that Doggett got sent to Max after assaulting a nurse in the hospital. Good riddance.
"Chapman! Bitch you're a gangster!" Poussey said wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"You could use a sandwich or somethin' though," Taystee offered.
The girls brought her over to their usual table and sat her down. Instead of getting her own tray, many of the women gave her pieces from their own plate. A slice of bread from Taystee, yogurt from Poussey, a carton of juice from Black Cindy. It was their small way of taking care of her, a sign of solidarity. Piper was overcome with a sudden rush of affection for these women. In SHU it was easy to forget the feeling of having people in your corner. Sophia walked over and placed a Snickers in front of her.
"Girl, we have got to do something about that hair."
Piper laughed along with her friends. It was the first sound she made in weeks.
For the first few days Piper slept more than she thought was possible. Being around people was taxing and left her exhausted. It didn't help that her sleeping pattern had been erratic during her stay in solitary, but now she was building a routine. Wake up early, run a few miles around the track, shower, eat breakfast, read, eat lunch, go to work (they moved her to the janitorial service), eat dinner, read, sleep. During rec hours she didn't seek out social activity like she would have before. She wasn't the greatest conversationalist these days and didn't feel like being around big groups of people, but some days she'd join Yoga Jones and the girls for a session or she'd spend an hour watching TV with Taystee.
The best part of her day was the hour she spent running. It was hard at first to get her endurance back, but something about the rhythmic pounding of her feet on the dirt set her mind at ease and allowed her to think clearly. She needed to make a fundamental change, Piper realized that now. She realized it the moment she stopped punching Doggett's face into the ground. When she was pulled off her unconscious body, Piper didn't see Doggett, she saw herself. It, ironically, was her come-to-Jesus moment. The problem was Piper didn't know what needed to be fixed first. So she ran. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs ached. She ran until she was too lightheaded to think anymore.
Piper developed a nervous tick her second week back from SHU. She doesn't notice until Nichols yells at her in the rec room. It's raining for the third day in a row, the third straight day Piper wasn't able to go for her usual run. The thoughts in her brain were piling up and with no way to sort them out, Piper was ready to jump out of her skin.
"You sending a fucking telegram over there?"
Piper's head snaps up from her book to meet Nichols' annoyed gaze. That's when she notices her index finger tapping incessantly on the table. She fumbles out a quiet apology and forces her hand to still, only for her opposite foot to start tapping.
"Are you tweaking, Chapman?" Nichols' asks with a touch of sarcasm and concern.
"Hey, leave her alone."
Piper's eyes instantly meet Alex's. It's the first time Alex has acknowledged her since she's been back. Piper nods her thanks and tries to finish the same page she's been reading for the past twenty minutes, but now that she's aware of Alex's presence, the other woman is the only thing she can think about. The way she teases Big Boo when she joins their Scrabble game. The way her laugh doesn't sound genuine when Nichols cracks a joke, but mostly she can feel the exact moment when Alex's green eyes turn in her direction. It's brief, but the gaze burns through Piper every time, causing her to lose all concentration.
Her finger starts tapping again.
The only way she can move on is to start over. There is so much baggage and hurt to sort through that Piper decides to start small. Making amends with Alex, Larry, Polly, and her family was important, but she had to figure out herself first.
That part started out easy. What did she want? Well, Piper wanted to get the fuck out of prison. She wanted to never come back. She wanted to curl up next to a fire with an expensive bottle of wine. She really wanted to shower by herself. Most of all, she wanted to feel free to do whatever the hell she wanted. No guards telling her what to do, no overbearing disapproving mother in the back of her mind, no WASP-y lifestyle to live up to.
This is what occupied Piper's mind as she ran. Each day she was able to run a little bit more than the last and each day she was able to sort through a corner of her mind.
Unfortunately the freedom she felt on the track didn't translate to the rest of her life. Doggett's meth head followers gave her dirty looks and antagonized her at every turn, but they never laid a hand on her.
The tapping was becoming a problem. Every morning at breakfast. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Every time she was with the girls to watch TV. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Any time she sat down to read in the library. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Taystee was patient with her, but after ten minutes she threatened to throw her out if she didn't stop. Piper had to leave because she couldn't force herself to calm down.
Now she's taken to reading outside by herself, away from prying eyes and inquiring minds. She'd just started James Joyce's Dubliners. The first two stories in the series were interesting, but it's the third one "Araby" that reaches into her core and won't let go. It talks about loss of innocence and the dangers of being idealistic, but what really gets her is the part about the reality of love never living up to the idealized version of it. The message plows into her like a freight train. Piper has a weird feeling for the rest of the day and her fidgeting doubles in speed.
The next morning she runs for an extra hour on the track. Piper doesn't want who she's with to define her like it used to. She doesn't want to settle for the safe and expected life, but she doesn't want to free fall either. What she really wants, she realizes for the first time, is an exciting, sometimes spontaneous life that leaves room for movie nights on the couch, but also random trips to the Bahamas.
Piper wants a life she chooses.
She makes progress as the weeks tick by. She's getting back to her normal weight, her skin has lost its ghostly pallor, and in a lot of ways she understands herself more than she ever has.
The problem, though, is that there's still something hidden in her mind that makes it impossible to jump over that last hurdle. Piper tried to clean from the inside out, but somehow she still managed to step on the clean.
The damn tap, tap, tap, tap, tap won't stop.
She's become more solitary than ever, interacting with people when she has to, talking only when necessary. Sister Ingalls comes to check on her one morning in the library, catching her off guard since mostly people tended to steer clear.
"How are you doing, Piper?" Something in the sister's tone and the way she uses her first name makes Piper feel like she's five years old.
"I-I'm ok."
"Hmm, are you sure about that?"
Piper stares at her for a long moment before replying.
"Yes?"
She doesn't mean for it to come out like a question, but Sister Ingalls just pats her hand softly and smiles.
"Well, if you ever need to talk, I'm here."
Piper nods and looks down at her hand. It was the first time anyone had touched her in weeks. As if on cue, her finger starts to tap.
A week after her conversation with Sister Ingalls, Piper finishes the last story of Dubliners. She rereads the final sentence of "The Dead" over and over and over again until the words are etched into her brain. Suddenly her cube is stifling and the air is too thick for her lungs. Piper hurries out of her dorm, pushes through the nearest door to the yard, and sucks in a deep breath. A guard side eyes her, but Piper pushes forward and finds her way to the chapel. She takes a seat in the back and stares up at the stage, watching the colored rays of light shine through the stained glass.
Piper doesn't want to end up like Gabriel Conroy, with no grasp on her life or any passion to speak of. She doesn't want to be Gretta Conroy, forever longing for and devastated by a love lost long ago. She wants to be more like Michael Furey, ruled by passion and love, fearless of consequences or opinions of others.
Rain begins to fall and she can hear it tap on the window in rhythm with her finger. When she closes her eyes she could picture the drops falling over the land, washing away the old and making room for new things to bloom.
Her eyes snap open when she hears giggling. Nichols comes through the door first, causing Piper's stomach to drop. She knew about Nichols and Alex. She didn't know details, nor did she want to, but she knew something had been going on with them. Piper looked down to avoid the inevitable reveal of Alex, but made no move to leave.
"Shit Chapman. Fucking cock block."
"Hey, be nice."
That wasn't Alex's voice. The tension immediately leaves her body when she sees Morello holding Nichols' hand. She was so relieved she couldn't help the bubble of laughter that rose in her chest. The looks she got from the other women only made her laugh harder, but she managed to rise from her seat and make her way outside.
"That one's got a fucking screw loose," she hears Nichols say as the door closes behind her.
Piper may have had a screw or two loose, but after her moment of realization in the chapel everything was finally falling into place.
That morning when she went for her run, Piper felt more at peace than she ever had. The sun was warm, the air was crisp, and her mind was at ease. Without meaning to she ran through breakfast. She ran for an hour longer than she normally did, but didn't feel like stopping. With each step she felt better, freer. Piper closed her eyes, imagining the breeze on her face was from the cool salty air coming off the ocean. It was a perfect moment until her body slammed against someone else's, almost knocking them both down. She wasn't sure if she should be angry or apologize, but any words she planned to say died in her throat when she brought her eyes up to meet those of Alex Vause.
"Piper, you have to stop this shit," Alex said, her hands holding firmly to Piper's shoulders.
"What?"
"I get that this your way of exorcising your demons or whatever, but Caputo is looking for any fucking reason to send you to psych. You have to stop the running and the tapping and the creepy thousand yard stare unless you want to end up chained to a bed for the next two years."
Piper can only stare at her. She never thought other people had been paying that much attention to her.
"Running's not crazy," is the only thought she can manage.
"You've been running around in circles for three hours. You look like a nut job, kid."
"Oh."
Alex nodded her head in the direction of the main building, as if to indicate it was time to go, but Piper didn't want to. She wanted to get back to that beach with the cool salty air. Just a few more laps was all she needed.
She gave Alex an apologetic look, then stepped passed her to continue on her way. A few seconds later she felt Alex fall into stride beside her.
"Maybe if I run with you you'll look less like a nut job," was all she offered in explanation. "Or at least we'll look like nut jobs together."
They made it five laps before Alex doubled over trying to catch her breath.
"How the hell do you do this every day?" she wheezed. "My lungs feel like they're on fucking fire."
Piper just smiled at her. It was still surreal to her that Alex was talking to her, let alone voluntarily running with her, which she knew was something Alex hated.
"I'm not exorcising my demons."
Alex straightened and raised an eyebrow at her.
"At least, not anymore."
"Then why the fuck do you do this to yourself."
"Because I like the feeling of forward progress, the wind on my face. It feels," Piper stopped and looked at Alex with a growing smile. "It feels like freedom."
Alex was quiet for a long time as she searched Piper's eyes. Eventually, she offered one of Piper's favorite smiles, the one Alex saved for when she seemed to know something that no one else did.
The next day Alex showed up twenty minutes into Piper's run. When Piper looked at her with surprise, Alex just shrugged and said, "What? I want to see what this 'freedom' thing is all about."
Alex made it about a mile and a half before giving up. After realizing Piper didn't stop with her, Alex silently made her way back inside, leaving Piper to her thoughts. It happened the same way for three more days. They didn't talk much and never interacted outside of the track, but it was enough for Piper just to have Alex near for that short period of time. Piper never questioned why Alex was really running with her, she just enjoyed their time together.
Alex made it a little farther each time, and on the sixth day moved to sit in the middle of the track and watched Piper as she finished her run.
"Wanna grab lunch?" she asked when Piper finally slowed down. The blonde probably nodded too enthusiastically, but Alex smiled at her anyway.
Two weeks later Alex makes it to the track before Piper does.
"I'm going the full five miles today," she said as she finished stretching. Piper can only stare at her, overcome with some emotion she can't name.
Alex squirms under her gaze, another rarity. "What?"
"You hate running. Why do you keep coming back day after day?"
Alex is silent for a long time, but when her eyes finally reach the blonde's, they're clearer than Piper has ever seen.
"Because Piper, for better or worse . . . you feel like freedom."
They strike up a true friendship after that. They eat meals together, run, and swap books in the library. Piper is finally in a good place, a place she's proud of. The struggle is still there, but it's manageable.
"You ever read Joyce?"
Piper looks up from her copy of The Odyssey to see Alex sorting through a stack of books.
"Yeah," Piper says eyeing her old copy of Dubliners.
"I figured. I was going to recommend it if you haven't."
Piper laughs softly and closes her book. "You know I wanted to be Michael Furey, but I think I've always been a mix of the Conroys."
"Pipes, you've always been Michael Furey. Your problem is just that you never let yourself give in to that kind of passion. For some reason you tried to hide it, but it was always there. Once in a while you even let me see it."
Alex's words seem to untangle the last of the knots in Piper's mind and she stares at Alex for a long moment before smiling at her. That insecurity she felt, Doggett's claim that she wasn't worthy of love, was eaten away by Alex's words. She was worthy of love because she saw it in Alex's eyes.
Her fingers never tap again.