A is for addict
Nicky Nichols is an addict.
There was no denying this fact. Always has been, always will be. She admits it in AA every week, standing up at the podium and cracking a joke, the smile permanently fixed to her face though she sometimes felt like her world was crumbling all around her. She tells Red when she feels her resolve weakening – "It's not personal, it's chemical." She told Marka when she ambushed her about "making something" of her life – "It's easy to get addicted to the first thing in life you actually enjoy."
Her brain was just…wired differently. At least that's what Healy had told her, whilst looking at her over his glasses, his notes shuffling in his grasping hands. Nicky had laughed, her mind swirling with the cough syrup cocktail she'd downed this morning at breakfast that was just beginning to take effect. Remind her not to do that before a meeting again. It hadn't offended her, though the way Healy's eyebrows raised quizzically at her response made her wonder if "different" was synonymous with "bad". Different was something she was used to – different, although somewhat isolating, was at least familiar to Nicky.
"Crossed wires, eh?" Nicky had said, cutting the tension in the air the only way she knew how. "Maybe you should send me down to electrical. I hear Luscheck can fix that, though based on previous experience, he'll probably pawn the work off onto some "newt" like Chapman."
If there was no way to fuel her drug addiction – and Red had made it clear where she stood on that front, hissing, "Don't even fucking think about it," whenever she thought Nicky might be tempted, her heart pounding viciously with the fear that one day, her warnings wouldn't be enough to stop her – she moved on. At first it was sex that took the place of drugs. It provided the same relief, a distraction from her life, something to think about when drugs were the only thing on her mind. And there were plenty of willing, lonely women who all had their place in her little black book, scattered over the pages like an afterthought, ink smudged with her rushed penmanship.
That was until Lorna Morello arrived at Litchfield, full of optimism and bright eyed ideas. Lorna, who could light up a room even when in floods of tears. It wasn't Nicky who first saw the brunette, and it wasn't her who brought her into the family, though she certainly made everyone accept her, even Boo, who made snide remarks before Nicky's glare and Red's warning made them cease to cross her lips anymore. The moment Nicky heard about Morello, though, would be forever burned into the back of her mind. It would always bring a smile to her face, even when nothing else could, which in prison, could be often.
"She's afraid, and she's a little naïve, but I think she will fit into the family." Red announced, perching on the edge of the lunch tables. "Nicky, you show her the ropes." Red's command sounded non-negotiable and if it wasn't aimed at Nicky, it would have been. But the flicker of Red's eyes told everyone that if Nicky wanted to, she could say no with no repercussions but a disappointed sigh.
Nicky rolled her eyes at this, but saluted in jest. "Whatever you say, boss." Her mind wandered to other things then, like what TV show was on after lunch, and what she'd do to occupy herself before it was lights out. Not that there were many options. But Red wasn't finished. There was a sparkle in her eye, a smile spreading across her usually harsher features.
"I think you'll really like her." Red continued, her voice full of unspoken hopefulness. "And, malyshka, she's gorgeous." Red's tone made this sound like a sweetener for the deal. "Make an effort. For me, no?"
"I already agreed, Ma." Nicky prickled with annoyance and then guilt, because she knew Red only wanted the best for her. "I'll look after her. Okay?"
"That's all I ask." Red said with a smile. "That, and you'll help me with some prep in the kitchen later. Gina's sick. Ugh." Red shook her head. "I don't believe in getting sick."
Nicky laughed. "Good philosophy. Fine. I'll look after the new girl and I'll help you in the kitchen later. Is that all?"
"No. One last thing." Red slid a fruit cup towards Nicky with a smile. "Thank you."
"Is this a reward?" Nicky laughed. Red smiled, shaking her head at her most courageous daughter. The others probably would have just accepted it as a treat, without questioning the morals behind it.
"No. I'd have given it to you anyway. But I'm glad you said yes." Red admits.
"That's why I love ya." Nicky grinned, peeling back the lid. "As I said, I'll see what I can do."
It was from that day forward, when they'd met in the showers, that Nicky would have a new obsession, an addiction, that was much more harmless than heroin, a lot less effort than seducing another clueless girl, and hugely more fun to be around than them both combined. Lorna Morello was something more, something real. And she didn't mean real as in something to hold onto when the dark reality of life set in behind the curtains in the chapel, sans clothes and inhibitions, as fun as that may have been. She meant real as in the first pair of eyes she sought out in a busy room; the choked up feeling and the knot in her stomach when she first found out about Christopher and then the relief, the selfish, fucked up relief when she had to hold Morello in her arms, grappling for the right words, as she cried for him, as she finally realised that Christopher was a figment of her imagination.
It didn't matter to Nicky that she was crazy, whatever crazy meant, and whatever her brain acrobats were doing up there. And Lorna didn't focus on Nicky's addictive personality, or drug use that sometimes made others look down on her, the lesbian junkie that always said too much. It was a simple fact that prison life allowed you to look beyond a person's flaws, crimes, or imperfections. It would be hypocritical not to. What mattered was the fact that they fit together like a puzzle, that nothing would ever mean that they couldn't seek comfort in one another. What mattered were the important moments. Nicky's way of telling Lorna I love you. Lorna's choked out response when she was hauled to max. Those things mattered. Imperfections were just that, irregularities and abnormalities that landed them in prison. To point them out was asking for trouble, and though she would do it to others like Doggett when bored, Nicky would never do it to Lorna.
Whilst thinking about those things, Lorna arrives at her cube, a red smile plastered on her face, her hands reaching out for Nicky just like they always did. And just like she always did, Nicky scooted over on her bed, if the flimsy mattress could be considered a bed, and allowed Lorna to melt into her side, Nicky's hands raking through the previously perfect curls that tumbled to Lorna's shoulders. The first time Nicky had done that, Lorna had frowned, her hands reaching to fix her hair. It soon became routine, Lorna enjoying the feel of an almost domestic life in the form of fingers trailing along her scalp, and Nicky embracing the feel of a familiar body leaning against hers, fingers that fit perfectly into her own hands lacing together like a corset, strong and supportive. It was instinct, primal. A chance to hang onto any shred of humanity in the form of human contact and the butterflies that stirred up, fluttering around in their stomachs.
"Hey," Nicky says eventually, the silence gnawing away at her like it always managed to. Lorna smiles, never surprised by Nicky's predictable actions. It was nice for Lorna to have predictable. Growing up, her life had been unstable. Even as an adult, her breakout into a life of crime had been a time of anxiety, where she constantly watched over her shoulder. The items she collected from her mail scam mostly lay unused in her closet, causing her heart to skip a beat if she accidentally caught a glance at something. No, Nicky was reliable. Nicky was familiar. When she wasn't, there was something wrong, and Lorna could fix it. It wasn't like with Christopher – it wasn't her mind running away from her, and she remembered that whenever she felt her skin or saw her eyes catch with Nicky's across as room.
Morello is still thinking about it when Nicky tickles the back of her neck to get her attention. Lorna smiles, still distracted. "Hey," she whispers. Nicky watches her carefully, wondering why she was so quiet when usually there was no shutting her up. It was this incessant need to fill silence that they both shared, much to Red's horror at times.
"You okay, kid?" Nicky finally asks, and Lorna is reminded why she loves Nicky, even if she still sticks by her proclamations that Christopher was "The One". Both parts of her question makes her feel warm inside, the concern in her voice and the nickname that Nicky used so often. Lorna smiles, nodding and staring up at the ceiling of the cube that she'd got to know so well. It wasn't often that they had private moments, and she savored every one they managed to pilfer. It often led to deep conversations, with Nicky and Lorna both saying things they never imagined they'd ever say out loud.
"With you?" Lorna asks. "Always." With that, Nicky smiles to herself, closing her eyes in perfect relaxation. Lorna also relaxes, leaning against Nicky's chest, revelling in the steady rise and fall. The feeling of her steady breathing always managed to calm Lorna down, to expel any rogue panic that she felt rising in her own chest. Nicky's fears and worries always seemed to dissipate in these times, too, only rivalled in her contentment by time spent with other members of the family, namely Red, who also made her feel as at ease as she always felt with Lorna.
Yes, Nicky thinks, resting her chin on Lorna's head, there were far worse addictions than Lorna Morello.
I hope everyone who read this enjoyed it. Obviously this will be 26 chapters long, all Nichorello. Each chapter will be in different worlds, so there may be conflicting information, but they're not connected. Feel free to leave a suggestion for a future letter of the alphabet, and please tell me what you thought in a review. :)
