Luschek rubbed the back of his neck agitatedly as Donaldson rifled through his desk. Caputo stood over him, the little power he possessed allowing this shit show to commence. Whatever was in there, questionable as it may be, there wouldn't be fucking drugs. He wasn't that clueless, he'd never been that desperate. Desperate enough to hide it in the most obvious place, to not care about the repercussions of them finding it…
Desperate.
The word jolts him. His head snapped up to the inmates in an instant and he's hit by her face. Two pairs of eyes met across the claustrophobic room. His were hardened by the regime, weathered by drug use and just general stupidity, and crinkled in concern. Hers were wild, darting, and widening more every time Donaldson's fingers brushed over the drawer of his desk.
If there was one word he would use to describe Nicky, it was desperate. Desperate for drugs, desperate for sex, desperate for love…it wasn't a bad thing, just human nature that sometimes she let him see, if he was lucky enough to catch her at the right time. If there was another word, it would be reckless. And this was just the kind of stunt she would pull.
"Ah, found something. Looks like…coke." Donaldson produced a small packet of white powder. Luschek watched, his stomach knotting, as he examined the baggie. "No…it's heroin. Plus, gum."
Nichols and her fucking gum. Luschek's heart pounded beneath his constricting CO uniform. How many times had he threatened her with a shot for chewing gum? Every time she came up to him, her mouth so close to him as she whispered her dirty jokes and the smell of mint wafting under his nose, he'd remind her that chewing gum was contraband. And she'd remind him that "so is fucking weed", her lips quirking up into a smirk. He pressed his lips together and exhaled heavily, wondering how the hell he was going to keep her out of trouble this time.
When she'd shorted the whole kitchen electrical system by absentmindedly chatting to Red whilst fiddling with wires, lucky not to have been shocked as she leaned casually off of her ladder, he'd told Caputo that there must have been a leak. Dinner was an hour late, Sister Ingalls' blood sugar had dropped and Caputo was pissed, but she was still there the next morning to keep him company as he reeled off his ridiculous orders for the inmates, offering him a laugh as he asked them if they'd try not to cause chaos to the whole day's timetable today.
When cigarettes had swept through the prison and she was almost caught showing him how to light one with a battery, he'd burnt the inside of his pocket as he hid it in his jeans, shoving it out of sight. He swore as the smell of singed denim wafted in the air and she'd laughed in his face, her smile enough to bring him out of his semi-permanent bad mood and allowing her to escape a shot. Infrequently, but often enough, Nicky wondered if Luschek himself suffered from his so called "red dot special", his moods so volatile and switching so quickly.
But this time? This time, Luschek was sure, the guilt weighing heavily on his chest, this time there was no escaping the consequences. Panic was setting in on her features and his palms were sweaty. Nicky's hands gripped the work bench as he argued with Caputo. Her eyes were desperate and he was so fucking angry. The one inmate he thought it could trust, the one he actually enjoyed to be around.
He should have never trusted her. Okay, he thought, his mind and body buzzing with adrenaline, that much should've been obvious from the start. But for this, she could be sent to the SHU. Max. Anywhere. That was never his endgame plan when he made his money making plan with her. All he wanted was easy money and a partner in crime. One in prison might have been a bad choice, but he didn't want to wreck her whole life with a single mistake. He was fine with her selling it. Fine with her getting him to sell it. Using it, though, was a whole other game. His mouth was working ahead of his mind as he yelled, his temper getting the better of him. "It's her! She's the fucking junkie."
His finger points to Nicky. Her defences are immediately up – when aren't they? – and she's denying it. Chapman is watching him, her face a picture of pure, undisguised disgust, but she doesn't know Nichols like he does. His hand shook as he pointed at her, but he wouldn't regret ratting her out for something she did, he swears (so why does he wanna throw up?). He's biting the inside of his cheek and the blood that hits his tongue, warm and metallic, makes him want something to drink, preferably something strong. Her head is shaking in denial, her beautiful – beautiful? – hair even messier than usual flying around everywhere as she vehemently denied his claims.
Any. Other. Inmate.
Why couldn't it have been any other fucking inmate?
The betrayal on her face hits him like a punch to the stomach and he instantly regrets the words that spilled from his mouth in anger. What was it about Nichols? Nicky Nichols. Even her name was intriguing when it shouldn't be. Those brown eyes dart from Caputo to his face.
The first time he met her, she was still detoxing. An angry Russian who had decided to play mommy kept her close and gave her treats that they assumed the COs didn't know about, her hair was even more wild than it is now, and she didn't know what the hell a fuse was, let alone how to fix a lamp. She shadowed the weird mob "family" who ruled the kitchen and somehow managed to worm her way into the top of the hierarchy without lifting a finger.
He'd barked an order at her while her head lolled on the workbench, the rings under her eyes blackening further with every waking moment. A broken lamp sat in front of her, looking as broken and sad as she was. "Work on that until when you flip the switch, the light turns on."
She had rolled her eyes and looked up. After a moment of staring at him, she flipped him off. "That's the only thing I'll be flipping this afternoon, asshole."
There was whoops and cheers from other inmates, repressed but too scared to say anything about it. And maybe if it wasn't her, she should have been afraid. Instead, he just smirked at her.
"What a fiery newt we have here." She hadn't even bothered to reply to him, her patience having long run out.
Yet somehow, when all of the other inmates had failed to even catch his eye, she had captured his entire attention. He didn't know why and he didn't know how, but he found himself enamored by the messed up lesbian junkie. When Pornstache had joked about him being gay when he failed to spend any time with the inmates in the broom closets, he'd been watching her stabbing a hole into the wall with her screwdriver. It wasn't love, he told himself; fuck, he didn't even know what love was. And if it was love, would God be as cruel to pair him up with not only a lesbian, but a drug addicted, sex crazed, messed up who had a predilection for hitting the self-destruct button? Someone who would never love him, might not even like him, back? He never prayed, he thought, but surely not.
It didn't make sense but none of it ever did. God, he felt so sappy when he looked at her, and it made him feel like such as ass when he couldn't stop that smile from creeping on his face when he glanced at her, making his day bearable without even meaning to.
And now she was staring at him like he was the worst person in the entire world, and he knew damn well that she'd met some pretty fucking awful people.
"Alright," Caputo relented. He'll never forget the fear that flashed on her face in that moment, the fear of the unknown overriding her fear of being seen as weak by the other inmates and COs. Her mouth was ajar as she attempted to find the words in her empty protests and her forehead was creased as she tried to fathom what had just happened; what he had just thrown her into. "Take her out, down the hill."
Down the hill.
The words made his knees buckle and she immediately started stammering, her face a mixture of confused, terrified and anger. "What?" Nicky asked, the already gravelly voice that he'd learnt like a song breaking in her anguish. He covered his face with his hands, not wanting to see anymore. "What the fuck is happening?" Following orders, the other COs take her arms and begin to drag her away, despite her physical and vocal protests that continued. "Wait! Mr Caputo!"
Luschek's fists ball up by his sides as he fights the urge to apologise for screwing things up, even if she was the one who had made sure they were caught. Her cries get louder and more desperate. "Mr Caputo! Fuck! Wait! Wait!" Every ounce of his strength was taken up by watching her stoically. He watched Mr Caputo, resigned, as he turned to face the other inmates.
"We will not tolerate this!" His voice bellowed but, to him, it was drowned out by Nicky's yells for help in the background that he was once again forced to ignore. Chapman's eyes bored into him but he faced the front, watching Mr Caputo. "You bring drugs in here, you will suffer the consequences!" As he finished, he turned to face Luschek. The words were clearly aimed at him, and he shrugged, scoffing.
Suffer the consequences.
He scoffed again. With Nichols, wasn't it always suffering?
When Caputo left, his power trip seeming to have lost its sparkle for him, Luschek sank down at his desk, ignoring stares from the other inmates who were shocked into an unusual silence. "Let this be a lesson to all of you! Drugs destroy lives." Luschek sat miserably, staring at the spot where she stood just a few minutes ago.
Drugs destroy lives.
As he stared at her seat, his eyes swivelling to the memories he had of her all around the room, he wondered with a sigh whose life exactly those drugs would destroy.
So this is a bit different to what I usually write, but I am really intrigued by the relationship between Nicky and Luschek and wanted to kind of get into his head. Now, I don't know how well I did on that front but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! For now, it's just a oneshot but I might extend it in the future, not sure.
Please tell me what you think!