Nicky stared into the visiting room, her hands rested on the window ledge. She tugged at the tinsel that hung limply from the window, watching as the shreds of material fell to the floor like leaves in the fall. It was the last day of visits before Christmas (Caputo had decided that any closer to Christmas and the kids would be too excited to handle, which for a prison, wasn't promising) and children ran around wildly, shrieking and tugging at their mother's hands, throwing wrapping paper in the air and watching it rain down like snow.
Laughing softly as a toddler rams a chair into Luschek's legs, and wondering how the other COs managed to get him to watch over today's visiting, Nicky thought back to her own childhood Christmases. It wasn't in prison, granted, but the kids here were laughing, smiling...their mothers waited day in, day out to see them, and when they finally did, their faces lit up like the Christmas tree that Paloma always decorated with Nicky before she left to be with her own family.
Marka never visited anymore. It wasn't something she thought about often, and it was never something she brought up for sympathy. It was just a sad fact of life that Nicky had gotten used to a long time ago - her mother didn't particularly care, and when she did, she wished that she would just leave her alone. But the thought weighed heavily on her mind at Christmas, the time where family was supposed to be paramount, surpassing anything else in the world. It was one fucking day and Marka had never managed it.
It made her realize that her family was here at Litchfield - taught her that they were the ones she turned to when she wanted to relapse, that they were there for her when she did inevitably make mistakes, and they didn't hold her to them forever...that Russians might not play baseball, but that mothers would give you as many chances as you needed, and tell you how stupid you were being in the most loving way possible.
Red watched Nicky, leaning against the wall and contemplating whether her girl wanted to be alone or craved company. As she realized what she was watching, she decided it was the latter, and started towards her. Her sons had visited a few days previously and she understood the sinking feeling of loneliness that managed to engulf you in the holidays. It was only her family that got her through those dark periods.
"I know. Christmas is fucking awful in here. But Christmas dinner, you'll have never tasted better than this year." Red offered, her hand coming down to rest on Nicky's shoulder. Nicky shrugged, tugging at the roots of her hair.
"Just another day, right?" Nicky said, her voice hoarse.
Red rocked on her heels, her thumb running circles on Nicky's back. "You don't celebrate Christmas?" The question was unnecessary, as Red knew the answer. But she asked anyway. She would always ask.
"Celebrate might be too strong of a word," Nicky said with a shake of her head. Downplaying her disappointment, she shrugged again. A snort of hollow laughter escaped from her lips. "Hanging stockings and decorating trees wasn't exactly Marka's idea of fun."
Red sighed on Nicky's behalf. There was nothing she loved more than decorating and baking when her boys were little. Hanging stockings and seeing their little faces light up was worth the bore of stuffing them, wasn't it? She smiled sadly. It was a pleasure Marka might never know, but she was determined to make sure Nicky would, even if it was years too late.
Leaning closer to the mirror to apply her festively red lipstick, Lorna puckered her lips. Nicky watched her carefully. Whereas usually she'd be concentrating on how her bowed lips or her ass - though, apparently, she shouldn't say that anymore now she's married to whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is, like she should remain some dirty secret - this time, her eyes are trained on Lorna's lipstick.
"Where did you get that?" Nicky asked instantly, her eyes fixed on the shiny new color and clearly brand new, unused lipstick. She eyed her own stubby eyeliner pencil enviously,
Lorna's own eyes stayed fixed on her reflection for a moment before she continued. "Traded it," she said smoothly. "Had to swap my dessert."
"Oh yeah?" Nicky replied, not quite believing her but also not knowing why she'd lie. She sighed and rolled her eyes as she ran the pencil along her waterline as a demonstration, frowning as it smudged over her cheek. "I wish Red's suppliers would quit messing us around. She says they haven't been able to give her anything in weeks. Usually she has a stock that lasts ages," she whines. "I want some fucking eyeliner!"
"Mhmm," Lorna replied distractedly. She grinned at Nicky, glancing at her through the mirror. Putting her lipstick in her bra to hide it from the COs who would invariably ask where it came from, she raised her eyebrows. "You never know what Santa will bring!"
Nicky groaned and rolled her eyes. "If he's anything like when I was a kid, he'll bring disappointment and the slight feeling of terror that an old man was going to creep into my room at night."
"Aww, you didn't like Santa?" Lorna turned to Nicky and pouted a little. "Got any mascara?"
Nicky nodded, pulling a mascara from her pocket and narrowing her eyes in confusion. "There's not much left." She handed the black tube over and watched as Lorna gratefully took it. "It's movie night. Why are you even doing your make-up?"
"You can spit in it to make it last longer," Lorna says, doing so before Nicky can stop her. She applies it quickly and shrugs her shoulders. "I'm gonna phone Christopher later. I want to look nice." She offers the tube back to Nicky as she processes the information.
"That makes no sense." She glanced down at the tube and pushed Lorna's hand back gently. "Keep it."
Red's hands slammed down on the counter top of the kitchen. Christmas was a crazy time for the women in Litchfield. Emotions ran high from mothers missing their daughters, daughters missing their mothers, ladies missing their friends and family that only got to visit a handful of times throughout December, and the fact that every single woman would essentially be facing Christmas alone for what might not be the first year. Not to mention the fact that the kitchen food prep quadrupled as she made sure that it was a happy Christmas for the girls she served. Hospitality was thankless but rewarding.
She took comfort in the fact that she had her prison family surrounding her. It wasn't just a "prison" family. She knew full well that many of the women that called themselves family would walk away from this place and never meet eyes again, and she was sure that would never happen to her. Norma and her had been through thick and thin together, Lorna was a sweetheart, Gina was loyal to a fault...and Nicky.
Nicky was, put simply, her child. DNA or blood made no difference to Red's feelings when it came to Nicky. Just like she would for her boys, she would give anything that she needed without so much as a second thought. She would lay down her life for any child of hers without hesitation.
It was late and she was exhausted. Her back was in agony and she had scarcely had the time to sit down for twenty minutes all day, but she hadn't been squirreling things away for two weeks to decide it wasn't worth the effort now. Christmas Eve had passed in a busy blur and most of the inmates were settled down to watch a Christmas movie.
Opening the cupboard where the potatoes were kept, Red pulled out a very special potato sack, and ran her fingers over the material proudly. Just like she had made for her boys, she had fashioned a stocking for Nicky. Granted, theirs were less...scratchy, but the thought was still there. And Nicky's name was stitched lopsidedly - just like her boys' stockings.
With a tired sigh, Red gathered up all of her contraband and carefully placed it inside the bag. Nicky's much loved mascara and eyeliner were placed at the bottom. A blanket that Red had persuaded Yuri to bring from their living room at home, folded lovingly and placed inside the bag. Red caressed the blanket and smiled. It could get so cold in the dormitories at night. Maybe a warm bed would persuade Nicky to stay in it and not get into any trouble. Shampoo and conditioner for that wild hair of hers. A book that Alex had confirmed Nicky had wanted, though as Red turned it in her hands, she really did wonder where her girl got her sense of entertainment from...
And finally, Red placed snacks in the bottom of the bag. For when Nicky complained, "But I don't like..." whatever innocuous item that was served up with dinner or lunch that day that Nicky had suddenly developed a problem for. Red was sure it was simply a ploy so that they could sit and talk together for ten minutes whilst Red hunted for something for her to eat.
Tonight, it would go at the end of her bed, ready for her to find in the morning. Red sighed again. She was sure getting a shot for being out of bed was worth it. Not to mention the cold feet from walking silently across the floor...
Wrapping her hand around the bag, and heading to Nicky's bunk, Red smiled. Definitely worth it.
The cold air of December woke Nicky from her slumber the next morning, and she stirred for a few moments before sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Christmas morning. Children everywhere would be running into their mom and dad's bedroom, diving into their stockings...and she was in Litchfield. With a heavy sigh and stretch to wake her up, she decided that there were worse places she could be in.
Stepping out of bed, she padded across her cube to see where everybody else was. As she did so, an unfamiliar object caught her eye. In there, you knew where everything was. Nothing changed. So something catching her eye was particularly interesting. She bent down to inspect the bag, intrigue taking over. A tag hung from the bag, and her own name caught her attention.
Nicky,
Hanging a stocking IS my idea of fun.
Red xo
She smiled at the message and ran her finger over Red's name. She recognized the bag from the kitchen and was speechless that Red had gone to so much effort just for her. Delving inside the bag, she took out a soft, fluffy blanket. She held it to her cheek - it was entirely Red. The smell, the warmth, the thought...she placed it on her bed and smoothed it down lovingly.
Her mascara and eyeliner. Nicky laughed. Of course Red didn't have any issues with her suppliers. No-one was cranky because they didn't have their make-up. Lorna's eyelashes still batted.
Item by item, Nicky's emotion grew until she was close to tears. She didn't need Marka, or the outside world. She didn't need anything because everything she needed was across the room from her, probably exhausted from staying up so late. No-one had ever bothered for her. Red always did. And somehow, Nicky thought she always would. It was a strange feeling.
Her little pile of gifts lay on her bed as she went to see Red, who sits up on her bunk, a triumphant smile fixed on her face. Her hand immediately reaches out for Nicky, happiness in her eyes. "Merry Christmas, Nicky." Seeing her face was one of the best sights she could remember, akin to seeing her children opening their gifts on Christmas morning at home. Maybe Christmas wouldn't be so bad this year, after all.
Nicky laughed and fell onto Red's bunk like a small child falling into their parent's bed. She curled up next to her, their hands entwining. "Merry Christmas, Ma."
A/N:
I wanted to write this but I left it so last minute! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this regardless. I just thought it would be sweet and really wanted to write something Christmassy. Please leave a review telling me what you thought!
Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!
xo