One
"Another Forceful Change"
(( Piper ))
Thunder erupts.
And not long after it begins to rain – slow and quiet – and then all at once. Even when the drops began to stream down the floor-to-ceiling windows, it still provided the best view over Manhattan. She was settled on the carpet with her back and head resting on the glass, eyes closed, pleading internally not to witness the busy sidewalks. Her thoughts broadened back to a moment when she once lived here. The social and carefree Piper Chapman – not the one who had been forced to live alone for the sake of her own mind – no, the same person whom once walked those drenched sidewalks with such a confidence that her smile seemed like it came second best. Who she was, had been the person she wanted people to remember her by. Which was the biggest reason she decided to keep herself away from the crowd. Scared she would break in front of them, snap, or get called crazy. She wanted to remain the Piper Chapman she used to be.
But that was five years ago, and she is hardly that same blonde haired women. Now she was just incapable of feeling human, torn between herself and the ones who lived inside of her head. Countless hours left engrossed in hope and pity, that one day, she could wake up and not feel like her life was being taken from her.
A flash of light flickered through the windows, illuminating the already lowly dimmed room, and with it igniting a roar from the outside. She choose not to notice and instead continued to sulk. It was one of the many things she was good at it, besides knowing when someone was watching her.
"There is a million reasons why this is bad for me. I hope you take that into consideration before deciding to buy this loft." She spoke first without ever ceasing to move.
"Well there is also a million reasons why this is good for you. And I'm sorry, but your brother already beat me to it."
"So, yet again- I have absolutely no choice in this matter." The thought of her being here longer than a weekend proved to be sickening.
"Give your brother some credit, he is doing everything he can to help you."
"And by helping, you mean shoving me into a three story box, while the rest of the world moves and I see one person a few times a week, until I'm suddenly healed?" She sighed. "Please, amuse me more."
"I honestly don't know what you want from me Piper. We have been at this for five years going on six and you have managed to scare off every single specialist."
This was the moment she finally decided to move from her melancholy position to stand, her eyes had already instantly locked on to a familiar target. A dark haired, brown eyed, clean face, gray suited and slick black tied target. John Bennett, looking like he had just walked out of a business conference; except she had known he was only coming from seeing her brother. This man would jump off a cliff if dear old Danny asked him to.
"I want to go back to where I was." In Arizona, where she didn't have to worry about constant thunder storms and people – so many people.
"I know this is going to be hard for you, but this was recommended by your therapist."
"Great, that is just perfect. Send her back to the place where it all started, it'll be good for her."
John took a deep breath, keeping himself together – something she should be doing. All the tension, back and forth bickering, would not turn out so good if they continued. If she argued more, she just might strike a nerve within herself. A nerve she would very much like to avoid.
"The least you can do is try. And get that I'm-being-held-prisoner look off your face, because you know damn well your brother has not once kept you locked up. Moving out of the state was your idea, not his. Deciding to be alone was again, your idea, not his."
He was right and she knew it, regardless if she decided to listen to him. She was contradicting herself.
"You're already late for your session." He spotted his watch. "And this is on you, not me."
"That is the second time in the last thirty-minutes you have decided to blame me."
"You swear it's something new."
She really did dislike him sometimes, but the truth was she needed him. More than she could ever let on. John kept her sane – for the most part that is.
Puddle after puddle and raindrop after raindrop, the storm continued to rage on; causing the drains in the streets to over-fill. It had been an unbelievable thought, that only a few hours ago had she been standing in the scorching heat craving an ice water bath instead of a hot one.
"Thank god for the weather." John whispered under his breath who was more than happy that the rain presented itself as an excuse for tardiness, especially with the amount of traffic they had just sat through.
The lobby was mostly empty for Pipers sake, no one around to give her a hard time.
"Miss Reznikov, you're two-thirty appointment is here. John Bennett and-"
"Piper Chapman. Yes, yes of course. Send them in."
The young women hung up the phone and directed the both of them to the elevator. "Third floor, take a right and her office is at the end of the hallway. Good luck."
Did she just hear that? Did John just hear that?
Piper raised an eyebrow at him, looking for any reason to believe that he – too – heard that. For some reason it bothered her in many different ways. Good luck. The fuck was that suppose to mean, she thought.
"Stop over analyzing it. She didn't mean it in the way you are suggesting."
"Was this before or after you finished undressing her with your googly eyes?"
"Don't act like you weren't doing the same thing."
"I wasn't."
"Oh that's right, I forgot you have a lesbian persona in there." He poked her head and quickly exited the elevator so fast she didn't get a chance to process what he just did.
"That's not funny."
"I think after all this time I'm allowed to talk freely about-"
"John I swear if you say her name."
They stopped at the end of the hallway and he fixed his tie.
"Her." He finished and their conversation ended there, because soon, he was knocking on the door where the treated and not treated have been.
Good luck. It was still racing in the back of her head.
"Come on in!" As we proceeded through the door, a rather short red headed lady took a stand to meet us. "You must be John and this – this is Piper Chapman."
She was looking at Piper with such fascination. What was so intriguing about a sick person? The blonde dared never to ask.
"Please sit."
"I will be waiting in the lobby for you." He looked at Piper and smiled. Miss Good-Luck was waiting for him. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Reznikov."
The pure disgust on her face was plain to see and the therapist took note of it almost immediately.
"Men." This caught Piper by surprise, but it didn't blow the uneasy feeling away, just dimmed it.
"I've heard a lot about you."
"That's expected. Considering you were the one who reached out to my brother, not the other way around."
"How did you-"
"Lucky guess. Danny doesn't have a single hour to spare and he wouldn't waste it on finding me a therapist."
"Very perceptive of you."
"I have my moments. But the question is why?"
"Four different specialist and yet, not a single piece of progress. I have treated a lot of people in my life, some even walked out of here wondering if they ever had a problem to begin with."
"Is that supposed to suddenly make me feel better?"
"No, it's not. But that is a pretty high number for a patient who has seen no progress."
The word patient triggered an intense throb, causing Piper to force her eyes to stay open – trying desperately to make the pain seem unnoticeable.
"I know you just flew in today, so I don't want to bombard you with too many questions. But I do want to suggest that you come to see me at least three times a week."
Reznikov was writing something down when Piper finally noticed what the women was doing. She really didn't have any choice in any matter, and this was rather unsettling. Didn't she have to receive some kind of consent? Or was Piper just suppose to follow.. orders?
"You'll be lucky enough to see me twice a week."
"The more sessions, the more progress, and the more you will get better. Don't you want to get better?"
"The problem is not me wanting to get better – I do – it's them you have to worry about. You've read my files, so you know very well why it hasn't worked with anyone else."
"Learning control is-"
"Do you know how many times I have opened my eyes and found myself sitting in a restaurant with someone I had never met in my life? I've been slapped and drenched with drinks people have thrown in my face. Not to mention the days I've reeked in alcohol left in clothes I would never wear. And the crazy thing is, I don't remember a single thing before that."
Reznikov was listening now, her pen no longer taming the paper in front of her.
"I don't doubt you're great with helping out-of-mind patients, your resume is stacked, and there are probably tons of people out there willing to back that up for you. But I refuse to sit here and listen to the same thing over and over again. I've been through this four other times. So unless you have a definite way to getting my life back, without me having to worry if I will wake up the next day as myself, then don't waste my time and I won't waste yours."
Push and pull, Piper would not grovel.
"I knew with taking this case that this wasn't going to be easy, but in order for me to help you – you're going to have to work with me."
Piper took a moment to think all of it over, to debate the decision to walk out and return to Arizona; forget that this conversation ever happened. She would live out the rest of her days split into different forms that she couldn't control. Only to be reminded every day that there was absolutely nothing she could about it. But now – now she was desperate. She was being hard to communicate with, that was apparent, but she had good reason to be. All of the failed attempts from high specialists was discouraging. Which was all the more the reason why she should just leave and tell Danny to keep his money – so she could continue being doubtful and stubborn. It's worked well so far.
"The least you could do is try."
Fucking Bennett to find his way into this conversation.
"Two days a week and two to three hours at most. Since I can't get you for a third day. Can you make that work?"
"The least I can do is try."