Disclaimer: I don't own the show or characters. All I own is the writing and story.
Author's Note: This one-shot is related to another one I wrote that it is in the Challenging Fate one-shot collection, entitled Hidden Scars. I highly advise one reads that before this as this is both a prequel/sequel to that story. Anyway, feel free to leave a review and let me know what you think. I do highly appreciate and cherish each and every review I receive. Thanks. Enjoy.
Warning: Heavily focused on eating disorder.
Disregarded
How long? How long have you been doing this?
She didn't mean to do it. It just happened. And then it kept on happening. All day every day.
The very afternoon that Lorna watched her best friend get taken away lit in her mind vividly—lit in her mind like a wildfire. No, scratch that, Nicky Nichols was more than her best friend—she was the love of her life, no matter if she wanted to admit that or not. Nicky completed her, made her feel whole. To have her forcefully removed from her every day life was like watching paint drip—the most miserable sensation imaginable to her. She couldn't go long without that woman in her life—Nicky made her feel important, like there was a purpose for her existence. Made her feel worth something.
To have that sense of love—security—ripped from under her, it felt as though somebody stabbed a knife right through her chest. Cut her heart out and replaced it with a crack in its middle. The pain was unreal to her. She couldn't handle it. Needed something to numb it somehow. It started with isolating herself from the rest of her fellow inmates. Well, rather, people slowly began to forget her existence. Sure, Red still worried for her and some of the others from their family but without Nicky, it was as if she didn't matter. The only reason people had ever conversed with her was because of how much Nicky adored her. Without Nicky, Lorna was nothing more than a nobody. No one came up to talk with her anymore, half the time her presence wasn't even acknowledged.
Sometimes, she'd find herself completely skipping out on mealtimes. Trying to spare herself the pain of a lonely table. Hardly anyone gave her the time of day anymore. Or, maybe it was her. Maybe she gave up on life. Didn't have the desire to care about moving forward without Nicky there. She couldn't—didn't know how. Nicky was the first person she met when she came to prison, the first person who ever took notice of her. Who took her in whole-heartedly and protected her as best as she could.
She had no clue why she chose to shovel bite after bite into her mouth one night during supper but she did. And, she couldn't stop. The food wasn't very tasteful or appealing but that didn't cease her behavior. She kept shoving each spoonful in until her tray lay bare atop of the worn-down cafeteria table. The decision quickly became a regret when it felt like her stomach was being twisted and turned inside of her.
The sensation had Lorna hurriedly running out of the busy cafeteria and down the hall towards the restrooms. She could feel the food trekking back through her esophagus just as fast as it went down. It was a miracle she made it to a toilet before anything came up; at least her dignity would be spared this time, she thought. Not that it mattered to her at that point. She didn't really care about herself much anymore, had no need to. No one loved her or wanted her. At least, no one in this prison.
The stall door clicked shut behind her and she stood—bent over—in front of the toilet, retching and heaving until the entire meal came tumbling back out of her. She felt gross and disgusting once it subsided. Vomiting was never something she wanted to do. Something she would avoid at all costs as a child, or teen, sick with the flu.
Tears pooled from her brown irises. She felt perturbed with the situation she got herself in. Why she ate so much food it made her physically ill. There was no explanation. Other than wanting to numb herself from the loneliness of not having a best friend anymore. She didn't know how to cope without her. Nicky kept her in check—kept her as sane as she could for a fellow prison friend. And, now, having her taken away, it left Lorna vulnerable to her own inner demons.
Running water alerted Lorna that she wasn't the only one in the bathroom. Almost halted her from her actions. But, yet, the vomiting wouldn't let up. Not until her entire stomach was empty of all contents. It seemed like an eternity passed before she finally felt at ease again; she quickly flushed and wiped her face with a piece of toilet paper.
Even though she could hear the presence of another person, that hadn't stopped her from jumping in freight as she exited her stall.
"Morello? I was wondering who that was gagging like that."
It was the warm, lightly-accented, voice of Gloria Mendoza that captured Lorna's attention. She turned her head in that direction to find the Hispanic inmate looking in the mirror—and what appeared to be—applying some sort of cream or another to her face.
Seeing through the mirror the other's staring back, Gloria quickly finished adding the moisturizer and turned to focus fully on the petite brunette. "Are you okay?"
Are you okay? The questioned played through her mind. Honestly, she had no idea. Probably not. But she'd be damned if she didn't keep up her optimistic vibe. She wouldn't let anyone think otherwise. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I just—I think I got a stomach bug or somethin'. Nothin' to worry about," she forced a smile to her face. One that clearly didn't reach her eyes.
"Yeah? Are ya sure? Ya know, we've all noticed how ya kinda changed since Nichols been gone. You're not the same happy and cheerful woman ya once were. Maybe you should find a hobby to focus on or something, huh? Keep your mind off things," the suggestion kindly slipped from Mendoza's mouth; her light-brown orbs gazing sympathetically across at Lorna.
The comment ignited the pain in Lorna's heart. But she pushed past that and continued to smile. She wouldn't let herself show any true emotions. No one cared anyway. She knew that for a fact. "Yeah, maybe I'll get back into yoga. I know Yoga Jones keeps asking me. It's hard without Nicky but I'm not depressed or anything. Pft, I'm the most opposite of that there is," she informed her, a lie that easily came out from her mouth. If anything, all the signs pointed to a slow building depression. But Lorna was damned if she'd ever admit that. No one had the ability to read through her. No one except for Nicky.
Gloria gave a skeptical nod, not entirely buying the younger inmate's words. Either way, however, she placed a friendly smile on her face and gently reached over to lay a comforting hand over her shoulder. "That'll be good for ya, Morello. And, ya know, if ya ever need someone to talk to—about anything—you can always come to me. I know it can't be easy with Nicky down in max. The two a you were so close."
"Yeah, it isn't. But I'm trying. Thanks, Mendoza," this time the smile a sincere one as she watched the older woman finally leave the room. She stood there, alone, for a few thoughtful moments before following suit.
That was the beginning of a new ritual. A ritual where Lorna would shove as much food down her throat at once and hurry off to the bathroom to bring it all back up just as quick as it went in. She didn't know whether she was doing it as a way to numb herself—to forget about all life's problems—or as a way to control her weight. But she needed to do it no matter the reason. If she went even one meal without vomiting, she hadn't felt right. She'd get angry with herself for not partaking in such ritual and skip the rest of the day's meals.
No one seemed to notice any of these new behaviors she exhibited—or if they had, they disregarded it.
It was not until several months later that people began to take notice of her. Other inmates began to express concern and worry. But not to her directly. To each other and friends of Nicky's family. She referred to them as Nicky's ever since her forced departure. Couldn't consider them her own—none of them paid mind to her after that very day. Sure, Red still cared for her well-being and whatnot but it wasn't the same. Nothing was the same.
Her frame disintegrated as the weeks went on. Yet, the vomiting episodes continued. Lorna didn't dare disturb her routine. She hadn't let the looks and words of others deter her from such actions. It was something only she could control. No one else had the power to take that away from her, she knew. And, she'd be damned if she ever let that happen. This was her way to cope and there was nothing anyone could do to convince her to give it up.
"Lorna," a familiar Russian accent called out one morning.
She jumped up from the table and shot an uneasy glance up from her tray of food. Eyes landed on Red's standing a mere foot away, hands on her hips as she peered her concerningly over. Swallowing uncomfortably, Lorna self-consciously picked up her plastic brown mug of coffee and took a rather large swig. "Huh?" Her eyebrows arched unnervingly.
Taking the seat across from her, Red reached over to place her hands on either side of her face. She studied her face intently. The darkness that loomed in her brown orbs brought a strong pang to her chest. It was foreign to see such a sight in Lorna of all people. Lorna Morello had been Litchfield's most optimistic and cheerful inmate for nearly the entirety of her stay. Her heart ached to see that change. To see her in this new state. Of course, she could understand the reason behind it. With Nicky's being unrightfully transferred to max, the family changed. She changed. It was hard—the first several weeks—for even herself to adjust and come to terms with that. Nicky was and is her daughter. Having her in a different prison ripped her heart up. However, there wasn't anything she or Lorna could do about that. Life had to move forward. No matter how painful it seemed.
"I think we should have a talk," she finally responded, her eyes filled with the deepest empathy and concern for her daughter's left behind love. Her hands stroked softly against pale cheeks.
Lorna gulped. "About what?" Her voice merely shook. She didn't like the expression on Red's face.
Rubbing a thumb soothingly over her forehead, the Russian chef narrowed her eyes with a somber gleam. "About you, Lorna. You haven't been taken care of yourself, have you?"
The inquiry had Lorna clench her hands into defensive fists. Like hell she was about to allow anyone rip down the walls she made around herself. No one was going to come between she and her routine. She didn't care how much Red prodded, she wouldn't give in to it. She was not the same weak, naïve, young inmate that came into this prison. Or, maybe she was.
"Me? I'm fine, Red. Nothing to talk about here."
"Fine? Lorna, that's far from the truth. You haven't smiled in months, haven't come to any of the activities in the common area like you used to. You skip mealtimes. This isn't like you. What's going on? I know you're hurting with Nicky's absence but you still have to live. You can't just give up—you think Nicky would want you to decline like you are?"
Lorna swallowed hard and forced a smile. She shook her head fervently, "I'm fine, Red, really. Yeah, I miss Nicky but that doesn't make me mental. I'm perfectly fine, okay? Please stop pestering me about it." The words bitterly spoken from her mouth. She shoved the rest of the food down and pushed herself away from the table, walking briskly towards the exit.
With sad eyes, Red watched the obviously broken woman throw away her tray and run out of the cafeteria. She certainly was not okay. She hadn't been okay since before Nicky was dragged away to max.
When the riot began, Lorna stopped eating altogether. But kept on with the vomiting. It was the calm in her own mental storm. Everything was too much for her to handle. She kept to herself throughout the insanity of the riot. No one seemed to bother with her anyway. They were all too busy using their power to plan torture scenarios for the guards. And that hadn't been something that interested her. So, she focused on keeping her emotions in check.
It wasn't until the third day that Lorna found herself not able to control her situation fully anymore. A swarm of guards came barreling through the halls of the prison. The entire ordeal was terrifying to say the least. She had no one to reassure her things would be okay. No one to comfort her. All she had was herself. She hadn't seen Red since the night before. Or any of the rest of her family for that matter. She was truly and utterly on her own in this battle.
She didn't hide. Just crouched into a ball on the floor, waiting to be found by a CO. She had no energy left to care if she lived or died. Nicky most-likely moved on by now, she thought. Probably had a new prison family, a new lover to comfort and have sex with. That made it all the more easier to give up on herself. To let herself easily be found by one of the riot officers. Wherever they carted her off to, it didn't matter. She had nothing to live for anyway. Everything was crumbling to pieces around her.
An entire month passed since Lorna's reunion with Nicky in max. However, she still couldn't stray away from her vomiting routine. It was a comfort to her. Something that calmed her at times of stressing or when the anxiety flared up. Unfortunately, now, it was much harder to get away with it—not when Nicky seemed to be watching her every move. Giving her that look that she always did ever since the two first met all those years ago. It was challenging to keep the ritual going but she did her best. No one—not even the woman she loved—would take away her one mechanism that helped her cope. She couldn't allow that.
And, with Nicky's practically forcing her to eat during mealtimes, Lorna longed for her shower stall ritual even more. She had to do that to minus out the higher intake of food. To keep her figure from getting any plumper. That's not something she wanted Nicky to be burdened with. Nicky deserved the world and she'd be damned if she let herself go. She wanted to please Nicky, to be the reason she smiled. A fat slob wouldn't cut it, she told herself. Something to motivate her to keep up with the vomiting.
Each morning played out the same way it seemed. Lorna lay in her bed, covered up to her head with her blanket, until Nicky entered inside right after her cell-mate left for breakfast. She wanted to keep herself hidden so she wouldn't have to attend the morning meal. But each time, Nicky was there to wake her. To coax her out of bed and join her in the cafeteria.
Today was no different as she'd felt the mattress sink slightly beside her. Tender hands removed the blanket from her face where she was met with soft brown eyes. That stared her over in an overwhelming concern. "There's my pretty Lorna," Nicky's soothing husky voice murmured, a small smile on her face. She bent her head down to press a warm kiss onto the brunette's forehead.
"Come on, we gotta go before a CO yells at us."
Lorna grumbled out a displeasured breath of air. She rather not go out there and face another day. Another day of the same damn shit, she irritatingly thought. "You go on, hon," she said, trying to keep the frustration to herself. "I'm not really that hungry. I think I'll just go shower and get ready for work."
The words pulled on Nicky's heartstrings immensely. Her head tilted and she gave Lorna that stern look she was all too familiar with. A hand was placed on her cheek, cupping it softly. "You know it's not good to skip meals, kid. Especially not before work. I'm not going out there without ya. So ya better get a move on, Lorna. Come on. You need to eat."
Turning her head, Lorna rolled her eyes and bit the side of her mouth subconsciously. She reluctantly forced herself out of bed and followed her girlfriend out of the cell to the cafeteria/common room for breakfast. The smell of food physically repulsed her. It smelled like a room full of grease and fat; she couldn't bare let any of it enter her body. However, she knew she'd be forced to in order to not worry Nicky.
"At least the waffle looks toasted today, yeah?" Nicky tried to make a joke once the two were seated at their usual table with their trays of food. She grabbed her plastic knife and fork and began cutting the very one that sat on her own tray. Though, her eyes didn't move from Lorna's. She watched her intently. Not wanting her to have a chance to somehow get rid of the food.
Lorna noticed this and grew anxious. She cut her waffle into small squares and used her fork to move them slowly around the tray. "Yeah, I guess."
Frowning slightly, Nicky took a bite of her waffle and gazed directly across into Lorna's brown eyes. Brown eyes that held hidden pain and wretchedness. She reached a hand over to place on the other's porcelain cheek, caressing it delicately. "I don't understand, baby, why are ya still doing this to yourself?"
"What do ya mean? I'm not doing nothing, Nicky."
The defensive tone ripped a slight hole in Nicky's heart. She softened her eyes and let her hand fall onto Lorna's, brushing fingers over knuckles. "You're not eating enough, kid. I know ya don't want to admit that but I can see it. You're continuing to get thinner with each week that passes. You need to start opening up to me about what's going on. You can't go on like this much longer, Lorna." It was hard to be careful with her words; she wasn't accustomed to sugarcoating the truth. Even with the people she deeply and unconditionally loved. That only made her want to help her more.
"I eat whatever garbage they put on my tray. What else do ya want from me? I'm not hungry. Look, I'm sorry. I'm not in the mood to discuss this so let's just eat and move on, huh?"
Lorna didn't even give the older woman a change to respond as she forced the rest of the food into her mouth and then jumped up from her seat to throw away the empty tray. She ran out of there quickly, after, knowing exactly where she was headed.
Such an outburst immediately had alarm bells going off in Nicky's mind. She hurriedly got up to bus her own tray and followed behind her frantic lover.
The moment she entered inside the shower room, Lorna was easily met with a sense of comfort. She jogged her way down to the last stall and quickly entered inside of it. The anxiety and frustration was too much to bare. She needed this ritual. Her calming in the raging storm. Before she even situated herself, the sensation of food coming back up was very vivid. Nothing further needed to be done to assist her. It all came up and out with ease, she quickly realized.
Not much later, Nicky came frisking into the room—her heart pounding heavily in her chest. She followed the familiar sound of her girlfriend's retching and stopped right in front of the very last stall in the back. A few seconds she took to brace herself. To think that Lorna still had the desire to keep up with this habit broke Nicky more than anything. Something was hurting her so terribly that even their being together again hadn't seemed enough to deter it.
"Baby," her voice murmured once she finally pulled back the curtain. The sight in front of her immediately had a bout of tears come pouring from her eyes. She stepped inside behind her and threw her arms protectively around her back, trying to pull her away from the floor. It hurt to see her this far down a destructive path. It was almost a mirror image of herself…but instead of an addiction to drugs, she was addicted to throwing up and starving herself of any nutrition. The thought alone had a lump form in the back of her throat.
"Why? What's making you do this to yourself? I thought…I thought you were done with this, kid. What happened? Please, Lorna, talk to me. I wanna know why you can't stop this cycle."
The retching and heaving slowly began to ease up. Lorna refused to look the other in the eye. Too ashamed to see her reaction. She swallowed hard, trying to find an answer. It wasn't something she thought she could explain. "I-I'm sorry, hon. It just…I need this. It helps me cope with all my emotions and stuff. I don't know. You don't understand," she whispered, voice hoarse from the vomiting and crying.
Nicky instinctively took her into her arms and cradled her close. She shook her head, taking Lorna's face into her hands. Peering compassionately into her brown orbs. Fingers rubbed tenderly around the edge of her cheeks. "Don't be sorry. I'm not mad at you, baby. I'm just—I don't wanna see ya hurt yourself like this. It hurts to see ya do this. To know that you have so much inner pain that this is the only way you can cope with it…baby, what happened after I was sent here? What happened to make you turn to this?"
"Nothing. Nothing happened."
Nicky shook her head and arched her eyebrows. "What happened? Don't give me that bullshit nothing answer. I know something happened. Tell me, pretty Lorna."
"It's stupid. Real stupid, hon."
"Nothing you tell me is ever stupid, kid. Whatever happened to you to make you turn to this destructive behavior is very much important to me. I need to know why my baby wants to hurt herself this way. Tell me," Nicky pleaded, letting their foreheads brush softly together.
Lorna closed her eyes and sighed. "I felt invisible and unwanted without you there. It hurt to have ya taken away. And then nobody really seemed to want to talk to me after that. I was alone and isolated…so I started shoving big amounts of food in and then it made me sick so I threw up. And I realized that made me feel better. So, I just…I kept doing it."
Everything in Nicky ached at such words. She tightened her hold on the brunette, pulled her closer and laid her head over her chest. It broke her heart to know how much Lorna hurt. How people just threw her to the trash after her own forceful departure. "Oh, Lorna…my baby, I'm so sorry you felt that way. So fucking sorry people ignored you and made you feel so fucking bad. What the hell? I guess it helps me understand a little better why ya do what you do. But it makes me livid that no one cared enough to see the signs. Livid that no one talked to you and made you feel unworthy of being around people. It hurts terribly to know you felt that way and I was not there to love on you and make everything better," she whispered, her voice full of emotion as she gazed lovingly down at Lorna. She curled a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"They took you from me, Nicky, it's the prison's fault…not yours. How could ya be there for me when they dragged you away?"
A bout of anger flashed through Nicky's eyes. "It was Luschek's fault," she muttered bitterly. But just as fast as the anger came, it disintegrated back into love and compassion for the petite Italian in her arms. "But that doesn't matter. What matters is that I couldn't be there to show you just how fucking wanted and loved you are, Lorna. I want you; I'll always want you, my baby. I'm so sorry you felt that way for so long. But I promise now that we're together again, you will never ever have to feel that no one wants you. Because that's no where near the truth, kid. You're very wanted by me. I love you with my whole heart. And I want to help you heal from this. I want to get you to stop this cycle. Before you really do hurt yourself. I can't lose you, sweetheart. You're the love of my life. I need you."
Tears sat at the brim of Lorna's eyes, she looked up at the redhead with a broken smile. Her arms wrapped tightly around her neck. "I need and love you too, hon. I realized that the day I watched you get taken away. You're my soul-mate and I can't function without you. Obviously, look what I've done. I'm a fucking nutcase without you."
"No, you're not a fucking nutcase. Sure, ya might be mentally unstable but that's nothing you can control. God, please don't fucking bash yourself over this," Nicky firmly muttered, cupping the brunette's head lovingly in her arms. Eyes staring intently down into hers.
She rested their foreheads lovingly against one another and brushed their lips in a delicate kiss. "You'll always have me. I will never leave you again, Lorna. I don't care. I refuse to. Not after this…you need me to help you and take care of you. And that's exactly what I plan to do. I'll get you through this. I'll do whatever I can to help you with this. I want you to get better, baby, and be my sweet happy Lorna again. You don't deserve this. To treat yourself so shitty. So, whatever I have to do to help you I will. I love you so damn much, doll."