A/N: Hey guys! So, um, I survived the storm – yay. All is well in my area of the state – so that's good. This is something I've been working on for far longer than I care to admit. You all can thank nofearonlylove for the constant asking "Is it done yet because I need all the words?" and Johanna-002 for the constant "I will inflict bodily harm and hold all your favorite Nicky stories hostage until you give me Mother's Day" But yes, it's finished! Now they can yell at me for something else. I'm sure it will be a pleasant experience….

Jo – this one is totally for you because well… you nearly killed me over it, but also because… you nearly killed me over it. It's totally your fault this is so long, but the brotp we discovered is totally worth it. Also, you read every version of this and gave me all the crap *input* about the areas that sucked! You're awesome.

So, I was thinking about doing NaNoWriMo this year. While I was looking at all the things – I noticed one of the NaNo promo offers. There's a website that has this cool … I don't know how to explain it. It's a writing game? Whatever go check it out. It's fun. It has kept me fairly motivated and the words flowing. 4thewords dot com I'm lame. I know it.

It's sweet. It's sappy. It's sarcastic. It's so ooc because that's my thing now apparently. Anyways, I'm over tired and have lost all sense of what I'm talking about so …. Please enjoy.

XOXOXO

Mother's Day had been a disaster at Litchfield that year. Everyone was exhausted and ready for it to be over by late afternoon. The excitement and merriment slowly melted into frustration and dreariness. There was nothing fun or sweet about toilet paper decorations, games made out of cardboard and anything else the inmates could get their hands on, porta-potties, and a clown that would give even the bravest of souls' nightmares of disturbing proportions. There was only so long the magic of the day could last before the realities that they were all celebrating inside a prison settled in.

Nicky had been doing everything she could to stay busy. She wasn't a patient person and she hated feeling constantly on edge. Part of it was that she was overtired from staying up too late working on a project of hers. The rest of it was just nerves. Everything was amplifying her restlessness. Including the mass of children that were running around like drunken ping pong balls.

She hated kids. They don't drink. They haven't traveled. The criteria for how cool or tolerable a child was really had nothing to do with either of those. If Nicky were to be completely honest, she didn't hate these kids - she was envious of them. So many moms crying out of joy at seeing them. Kids who were happy and carefree even though their moms were in prison. They had relationships and family and love. Maybe they weren't as cynical or cultured as she was, but they were loved and that stung more than she cared to admit.

She wondered if Red had already seen what she'd made her. It was stupid to be nervous, but this was a risk that she had put a lot of time and effort into. Out of all the times she had ever tried to celebrate this day, every single year had ended in heartbreak and defeat. Some kids just didn't get the happy family, she had told herself, but it was never enough to protect her from the disappointment.

It was never just the emotional neglect, but actual physical pain that she didn't think anyone should be capable of feeling. Marka's aloofness and obliviousness left such physical distress that Nicky didn't start to get over until she got sick from nerves and broken expectations.

It had been years since she'd put herself at risk. It was something that she never thought she would try again. Things like Mother's Day and family holidays were not something she was worth. That was the message she had always been told, until she finally believed it.

Red was different. Nicky, despite her own fears, was willing to try - just one last time. She needed to know. Maybe Red wouldn't appreciate it and it would hurt worse than all the other times. However, Nicky longed to be loved so badly that it was worth the risk. Red wasn't Marka.

On her way back to the dorms, she saw Red visiting with her family. The sight before her made her want to run to Red's cube and take her card back. She would never live up to Red's boys. They were her real children. What did she need an emotionally needy and broken daughter for? Nicky knew Red cared about her, but that was in prison. When she got out Red would have a life to return to. There was no reason to keep Nicky in it. The only think Nicky had waiting for her was a mother who didn't want her and a loneliness that would hurt worse than ever before.

"Hey," Alex said, hip checking her gently. She faced Nicky and leaned back against the window. "What's got you all mopey? You look like one of those puppies they sell at the mall." She pushed her glasses up on her head and looked at Nicky questioningly.

Nicky shook her head. "Nothing. Just, long day. Ready for all the crazy outsiders to be gone so things settle back down. I hate kids and all this cheeriness is making me nauseated." She pushed back a handful of hair off of her face and tried to make eye contact with Alex. Her head turned to face the other woman, but her eyes never moved. They were still locked on to Red and her family.

Looking over her shoulder to follow Nicky's gaze, Alex saw Red visiting with her family. "I'm pretty sure this whole masochistic voyeur thing you've got going on is probably not the best thing for you right now," she said.

Nicky's gaze never broke. "Yeah, yeah, you're right Vause," she said offhandedly. She stared at the family, realizing once more that what she and Red had was nothing like that. They were together because of this place, not because of any familial bond. Red already had a family.

"Alright punk," Alex said, standing up from against the glass. She grabbed Nicky's shoulders and physically turned her in the other direction. "Off we go to find some trouble to get into," she said, making it clear that this wasn't optional. She wrapped an arm around Nicky's shoulders and led her away. "Maybe we can go lock the meth-heads in the dryers?"

Once she was away from the visitation rooms, and the Reznikov family was out of sight, Nicky felt like she could breathe again. All the doubts she was harboring were still there, but they were at least manageable. Out of sight. Out of mind. She tried to convince herself. "Hey, thanks for getting me out of there stretch. I'm good now. I think I might go verbally abuse Luschek for a while. Maybe I can bum a smoke off him. Wanna come?"

The alarm went off and Nicky rolled her eyes. "Or not," she muttered to Alex. They lay on the ground for several minutes before Caputo's voice rang out from the intercoms around camp.

"All inmates ignore regular protocol and return to your dorms for counts. The faster we can get done ladies the sooner we can all go about our day." You could hear him sigh heavily before he wrapped his announcement up. "Again, all inmates return to your dorms for count."

"Fuck," Alex hissed and dropped her head onto her arms, before getting up and standing next to Nicky. "Guess you're not getting those smokes after all."

XOXOXO

Red had never been so thankful to hear Caputo's voice in all her years at Litchfield. If it hadn't been for him, she might have added quite a bit more time onto her sentence. There was a good chance that she would have killed Dimitri on the spot if they hadn't been interrupted. Her good for nothing future ex-husband had let her down and in the biggest way she could imagine.

How could he do that to her? And her boys, how long had they been lying for him? It was too much betrayal for one day. They had been married for decades, but now it all felt like a lie. She knew it wasn't true, but Dmitri had done something unforgivable. What value did the rest of the marriage have after this transgression?

It wasn't often that the whole family was together, but finding out that news with all of them watching made it so much worse. She felt like the odd one out having believed their lies for who knows how long. Red did not enjoy feeling like the fool. This wasn't just a betrayal - her pride was wounded. On top of that, her beloved shop was gone.

Happy Mother's Day indeed. They couldn't manage to wait one more day without fucking up? If they had insisted on lying to her, couldn't they have picked a more appropriate day to wash themselves clean of their sins? Wasn't stabbing her in the back enough that they didn't have to twist the knife as well?

Red made her way to the dorms with a stiff look and pointed direction. She wasn't in the mood to make small talk, or any talk for that matter. If there was one thing she had learned how to do, it was hot to create a don't fuck with me air about herself. This was the skin she slipped into. It might be the persona she would take on for a very, very long time.

She made it back to her cube and like the rest of the inmates stood outside waiting. Lost in her own thoughts she didn't pay attention to the world around her. It was a dangerous move in prison, but here - with her family - she was alright. No one would fuck with her.

Had she been paying more attention she would have recognized that when Nicky paused in front of her and gave her a worrisome look it wasn't about Red's mood, but about her own needs that were on the girl's mind. Without a word, Red just nodded her head towards Nicky's cube, telling her to get where she was supposed to be.

Nicky nodded, trying not to get tearful about Red's gruff reaction. She was making herself sick stressing and worrying about what would happen once Red saw her card. It was stupid she knew. It was just the first time that she had ever formally acknowledged how she sincerely thought of Red as her mom.

Sure, they mentioned it here and there and acted like it on most occasions, but that was all a prison illusion. Red had a handful of prison "daughters", but for Nicky there was only Red. Inside or out of prison that was it for her.

Once more, she thought about the card she'd made. She had started so many, throwing each away when they didn't seem right. She had finally decided on one though and within that tiny card were all her feelings and fears.

Had Red already seen it? How would she feel when she knew how serious it was for Nicky? Would she pull away, trying to find a healthy distance or push Nicky away right on the spot?

It was the ultimate setup for rejection.

XOXOXO

Red huffed as she waited impatiently for the cos to make their first round the through dorm. She knew it would take at least two passes before they got the numbers right. How grown adults couldn't manage to count 16 women, she would never understand. Hell, she could count them all just from where she was standing.

Thompson came by quickly and with little interest as he clicked through the inmates and waited near the bubble for O'Neill to catch up. He hated working with the other guard and yet always managed to get stuck with him during counts.

O'Neill approached and when he happened to look up at Red, the death glare she was directing at him made him lose count. The woman terrified him. Despite the prominent hair, she reminded him of one of his least favorite teachers at St. Bartholomew's- even more than Sister Ingalls did.

"Six," she snapped. "Look at the fucking clicker in your hand if you can't count that high." It was so out of character for her to be blatantly aggressive that he didn't know how to respond. Sure, she scared him, but her tongue lashings had never been aimed at him before. Rulers had nothing on her.

A moment passed and O'Neill timidly said, "Six." He kept going, sneaking glances over his shoulder at her. He got to the cube across from Nicky's and lost track again. "Shit," he muttered. He looked back at the cube he'd started with and swallowed hard. His hands had been shaking so much that he'd accidently hit the clicker a few extra times and couldn't rely on that. A hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped with a yelp.

Nicky shook her head and gave him an incredulous look. She might have felt bad for the guy, but Red was right - he was an idiot. "Listen, I- I dunno what's going on with her, but something's getting to Red. My advice would be not to piss her off any more than you already have."

She gestured down the aisle. "Ya see any gaps or missing faces?" When he shook his head no, she patted his shoulder. "Good job, now get out of here before you piss her off again. Also… just a thought, but uh, maybe try breathing through your nose. It could be an oxygen thing," she said, shrugging.

He nodded as he took this information in. "You think? I mean I snore a lot at night and I had asthma as a kid, but I haven't had an attack in..." He started counting on his fingers, messed up, and then started to count again.

Nicky's face morphed into something of complete disbelief. Why was he still here? "O'Neil," she snapped, pulling him out of numerical purgatory. "Maybe go see a doctor. You never know. Maybe, uh, they can help," she said, raising her eyebrows in a very clear get-the-fuck-out-of-here look.

Red half watched their interaction, but she was too lost in her own thoughts to really appreciate it. She saw enough to know that Nicky had ushered him on, but that was all that really interested her. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts. O'Neill announced counts were finished and left them alone to mingle as they pleased.

Turning towards the exit, Red saw Piper standing in front of her. The look on her face was enough to make the younger woman freeze. Red looked her up and down and then huffed a great sigh of frustration. "I'm going to the kitchen," Red told Piper as though she was placing some ancient Russian course on her. For all Piper knew maybe she was. Red shuffled away from their cube before the blond could even process what had just happened.

Piper hadn't asked and it wasn't like Red to check in, but she needed someone to huff at and her gruff explanation was as good as any. She would deny it of course, but Red had a tendency for dramatics when she was upset. Someone needed to know things were not okay. Piper just happened to be there.

"What's up with her? Did she say anything?" Nicky asked, approaching Piper. She tried to keep her questions light and easy as though she weren't internally dying from the strangling anxiety.

Piper shrugged. "Dunno. Didn't ask. She just stormed away." Halfway through Piper broke into her own imitation of Red's accent and added, "She said she was going to the kitchen. I'd steer clear for a while unless you want your head snapped off."

Nicky just nodded, staring in the direction Red had left. She bit her lip, debating on whether she should go after her. Better to wait until things played out on their own, she decided.

"Hey, Lorna and I were gonna go get a game of cards started in the common room. Wanna come?" Piper asked.

Nicky smiled at her and shook her head. "Nah, but thanks. I got some things I gotta take care of."

XOXOXO

Inside the kitchen, Red looked around for something to do. Something to keep her busy until her temper cooled. The only thing needing to be done, that might also help quench her anger, was clean. It didn't even need it, but Red had always believed that things could always be improved upon. It was as good as a distraction as any - and the only real thing she felt she had control over any longer.

This was her life now. An empty kitchen that didn't belong to her. People in masses showing up to eat the mediocre food she was forced to prepare because a lack of ingredients and culinary finesse was all she was allotted. She was limited by venue as well as flair. In that moment, Red wondered if her love of cooking would ever be a source of pride and comfort again. This job, this room, this food - it was all an illusion based on Litchfield's need to pinch pennies and cut costs.

It felt like everything in her outside life was being snatched away from her and there was nothing she could do. Her shop was gone, her boys grown up, and her useless husband wasn't even the man enough to resemble who she had shared a life with. He had somehow grown weaker and feebler. Or had he? Was she the one who had changed so much? Did he only seem to be that way because she had grown into a position of power and authority?

It didn't matter. None of it mattered. Things had changed and there was no going back to the way they had been. Looking around at her kitchen, her heart sank even further. This wasn't her kitchen; it was Litchfield's. It was timeless and her time here wasn't. She would leave one day and then she would have nothing but memories of two lifetimes passed.

It was more than anyone should have to bear. She thought about the women in her circle. They didn't deserve this. None of them did. Even with their crimes, prison took a toll on you that never repaired. It raped you of your past and offered nothing in return but lost time.

The women who left weren't better than before. Hell, most of them weren't bad to begin with. Minimum security prisons were filled with just as many people who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time as they were prisoners who belonged there. The women who left prison just learned new tactics on how to be miserable and how to hide it from the outside world.

It was one thing to keep your humanity intact on the inside, but upon their release they would be lost in a world full of noise and chaos. A world that no longer saw them as the women they once were. Their identities would be gone, even from those who loved them.

Supplying the girls with contraband was Red's way of fighting back. Prison was full of rules and routine. It warped them all into behaving like mindless sheep. They followed orders. They did what they were told.

It wasn't that Red thought that they should be wild. This place would become something like the island in Lord of the Flies. She didn't know what the solution was other than somewhere in between the two. They needed structure, but they also needed something more. Something to remind them of who they were and how they needed to fight to hang onto that.

Contraband was something the girls looked forward to. Even if it was a silly pastime. Red saw how it stirred everything up within the girls. They traded, they bartered, they did everything they needed to in order to get what they wanted. It didn't bring out the worst of them. Red had made it very clear that if they were behaving violently or without some degree of morality that she would cut them off. In a way, it brought the girl's together and gave them all purpose that they could control. The contraband market was something that was theirs, not Litchfield's.

After some time, she had cleaned everything she could - several things twice. She physically felt calmer, but everything she had learned about her family still hurt. What purpose would she actually have once she left? She sat down on a chair next to the counter and wrung the rag worriedly in her hands. This was a side of herself that she never allowed anyone to see and yet in that moment she didn't care who might walk in.