"I'm gonna ask you again, nicely. And then the third time it's not gonna be very nice- for you." Mendez assaults Lorna. Rated M for rape and dark themes.

"I told you, I don't know what she does." Lorna shook her head slightly as she tried to keep her voice and her nerve from cracking. "I drive, and I do what I need to do. I can't help you because I really don't know." She sensed Pornstache's hand tighten on the headrest behind her, and leaned forward. "So you do whatever. Can't tell you what I don't know." He chuckled softly, releasing his grip to gently, menacingly brush the hair from her face. She shut her eyes tight, her skin almost burning from his touch.

"Undo your seatbelt, inmate." His smile was sinister. A tear leaked down Morello's cheek, left to leave a tiny track down her skin. She didn't move. Stripping off his jacket, Mendez turned in his seat to look his charge. "Undo your seatbelt," He repeated, patting his holster as if to remind her of her place. "Or we'll have to do it the hard way." Lorna complied with shaking hands, her face crumpling as the futility of protesting crushed her her, the weight stealing her breath and forcing her heartbeat to quicken. He ordered her to climb from the driver's seat to the row behind, and followed her. His pulse had also heightened, but out of arousal rather than fear.

"Please," Her voice came out as a quiet whimper." Please, don't do this. I don't know how Red does it, I really don't." Pressing the slight woman onto her stomach, Pornstache let his hands trail all over her frame, coming to rest on her hips. He slipped his fingers into the wasteband of her pants, and Lorna began to cry aloud, incoherent pleads mingled with the sobs.

"Oh believe me, Morello," Mendez chuckled as he pulled away the thin fabric that separated her skin from his. "Red is the last woman on my mind right now."

The muttered threats of what Mendez would inflict upon her if she talked to anyone about their 'little chat' continued to ring in Lorna's ears as she re-entered the prison. Her doe eyes, reddened and puffy, still brimmed with tears and she attracted several glances and raised eyebrows as she passed through The Suburbs to get to the bathroom.
Not bothering to strip off her beige clothes, Lorna stepped into a shower cubicle and turned on the water. Jets of water, nearly too cold to bare, soaked through her uniform and flattened her dark curls to her back. Lorna pulled the curtain shut, sank to her knees and choked on a sob, her tears lost to the rivulets of freezing water.

"Nicky, where is Lorna?" The Russian accent caught the attention of the entire table. Nichols threw up her hands in exasperation. She hated how everyone expected her to know where Morello was even after they had stopped fucking.

"How the fuck would I know? I'm not her keeper." Red rolled her eyes, sliding into the empty seat. She had finished serving dinner and had left her team to finish cleaning up- she was done for the night.

"I saw her in her bunk right before dinner call," Yoga Jones piped up. "She said she's not feeling well. Looked kinda rough too, if you ask me. No make-up or nothin'. Like her chi is unbalanced."

If the promised torture of hell was transported to Earth, this was it. She felt raw, as if her skin had been ripped to shreds to expose the layers of vulnerability underneath. Her optimism had been torn apart, her dignity violated and left to collapse from the inside. She tried not to cry, but her self-issued commands were futile, and when the tears fell they burned her skin.
He had smacked her around a bit, in places where the marks wouldn't be visible, but other than that she didn't really hurt- not physically, at least.
Even so, her heart felt heavy. She didn't want to die, but she didn't particularly want to be alive either. There was nothing that would help right now, apart from going back in time to a place where sex was consensual and her defences had not been breached.

"Hey, kiddo." The voice brought her out of her reverie, but she didn't turn over on her bunk to face its owner. She'd have recognised that Russian tone anywhere. Red sat on the edge of the bed, and reached over to feel her forehead. The hand quickly withdrew as Lorna flinched violently at her touch, pulling her blanket tighter around her body, clothes still wet from her shower, as if it could protect her from all worldly evils.

"I, uh, I think I have a cold." She sniffed, her voice shuddering with held tears. Red's eyes narrowed.

"Is that any wonder, if you're going to get into bed with soaking-wet clothes?" No reply came, and the Russian sighed. "Listen; I'm going to get you some dry khakis, and then you're going to tell me why you've decided that getting pneumonia is a good life choice for you. Okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Red stood and started sifting through Morello's cupboard.

"Nothing happened, I told you." Her deadpan pitch of voice was such a deep contrast of her usual, bubbly personality that Red paused for a moment.

"Don't bullshit me, Lorna." Her words might have made the brunette flinch if not for their somewhat motherly tone. "Sit up, you need to get warm before you do catch a chill." Morello did as she was told, looking straight ahead at nothing in particular.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I- I can't." Came the stuttered reply. Red's brow furrowed.

"Is that because you don't want to tell me, or because someone else doesn't want you to?" Their eyes connected, briefly, for the first time, before Morello looked away, blushing. There was a pause, and the redhead helped her daughter out of her wet shirt, wrapping her tightly in a dry towel. A few seconds later, and she was dressed in a dry t-shirt.

"Both, I guess..." The reply finally came. Red nodded. The sickening suspicion was rising in her stomach like bile, equally bitter.

"Are you hurt?" Lorna shook her head.

"I can't tell you." She repeated.

"I am not asking what happened, I'm simply asking whether or not you might need some aspirin. It's a simple question."

"But- I-" She paused. "A little. My back-"

"Show me." Biting her lip and checking around to make sure no one else would see, Morello twisted round and sat facing away from Red. She let the matriarch lift her shirt at the back, her face crumpling as gentle fingers touched the faint bruising along her ribcage. She had always bruised easily.
Red's hands guided her back round, and cupped her face so that their eyes met.

"I shouldn't have told you," She whispered. "He said-"

"You're safe. These bruises, they are from being pinned down, yes?" Lorna nodded, ashamed. Red tried to keep her voice confident and calm, but the words came out as a whisper. "Did he rape you?" Fresh tears spilled from Morello's eyes.

"I didn't tell him anything, I swear." Her choked words confirmed Red's suspicions, and the truth came crashing down. She felt sickened, but swallowed her feelings to comfort her daughter. She pulled Lorna close as she began to sob, her heart sinking.

"It's okay, it's okay," She repeated. "I trust you. But it doesn't matter right now. You need to report this." Lorna shook her head hard, pulling away from Red's grasp. She felt as if she were suffocating, she couldn't breathe.

"No no no, don't," She moaned. "Please, don't make me. He'll hurt me." Red shushed her gently, withdrawing and holding her hands up to show Lorna that she wouldn't touch her again if she didn't want.

"Alright, ребенок, I won't make you. Finish getting dressed, and we'll talk."

Red watched Lorna swap her wet pants for dry ones, trying not to look at the bruises decorating her pale thighs.

Something needed to be done. Mendez needed to be taken down.

A/N: Thanks for reading (: I'm not sure if this will get a lot of interest seeing as Vauseman seems to be the popular pairing, but I just love the relationship between Morello and Nicky, as well as the way Red looks out for all her girls.

Please do review (: Thanks!