Authors note: My first OITNB-fanfic, and my first fanfic over all in a long time. Set in a time when Red isn't running the kitchen any more but has all her girls by her side, so maybe some time after S2. The first bit is kind of gloomy, there will be more humor and fun stuff later. Also, I know the actress who portrays Red is nearly 60 but I imagine Red as a bit younger than that. And there might be stuff mentioned on the show about that I haven't noticed, about Red's family or otherwise, but this is my spin on it. Enjoy!
Time to go
Not much went unnoticed at Litchfield. When Red was called into Mr. Healy's office, people began whispering right away. It was like a soft breeze blowing through the prison halls.
"Did you see how serious he looked? Like, more than usual, I mean. Like seriously serious, kind of…"
"I bet she's in some kind of trouble. Maybe they'll send her away, even. He had that look on his face."
Galina "Red" Reznikow sat down opposite the corrections officer. Before Sam Healy opened his mouth she could read in his face what he was about to say.
"It's nearing the end now, Red. I'm sorry." The silver-haired man looked at her with a rare look of real empathy. "They called about an hour ago. There's nothing more to do now."
She nodded, didn't want to speak. All she wanted was to get out of this room. Without thinking to ask for permission to leave, she stood up and headed for the door. Her walk was unsteady as she crossed the office floor; it was as if someone had hit her over the head with something hard. She was feeling dizzy, almost ill. The sound of Mr. Healy's voice stopped her as she placed a shaky hand on the doorknob.
"I think this is one of those cases where you might actually be able to get furlough. We can try, at least. Would you like that?"
She turned to face him. Again she nodded, without a word.
"I thought Red's husband was dead?" Gina Murphy leaned over the lunch table, not wanting everyone around to hear the discussion. "I mean, he's never been here, not once."
"I figured he was in prison, too, I mean, they ran their little business together, right?" Yoga Jones also kept her voice down.
"I always thought he'd let her take the fall. That he was nicely settled with some young, blonde new wife now, leaving Red to rot in here." Lorna Morello was gnawing on a piece of corn cob as she shared her two cents.
"No…" Nicky mumbled as she glanced at Norma. The two of them knew more about the whereabouts of Dmitri Reznikow than any of the others. Norma sent her younger friend a look as though to say, "Go head. Tell them."
"There was a shooting… some mob guys and the police had it in for each other, I don't know…" Nicky shrugged. "Anyway, Mr. Red got in the middle of it all. He got shot in all the wrong places, all the places that don't kill you, it just makes you wish it had. Red ended up in here, and he's in a hospital bed somewhere. You know it's bad when they let someone who is supposed to be in the cage stay on the outside permanently."
"That's awful!" Sister Ingalls had a look of shock in her eyes. "Poor man. Poor Red!"
"How do you know this?" Morello was a bit curt that she hadn't heard this story before.
"Red told me once. Apparently the guy's been in and out of comas, he's blind, he's partly paralyzed… And she can't do nothing for him. She tried to get her sons to get him better care somewhere, but they can't afford it. That shit's expensive. So he's stuck in this shitty place the state put him in. Red said it hurts to even think about it. That day she told me, I think it was their anniversary or something. She was really down and I think she'd snuck a drink or two. It was back in her kitchen ruling days."
"So now they're letting her see him, before he goes, huh?" Yoga took a sip of her water. "That's the system for you. No favors until it's too late."
"Yeah, Healy said he'd try, he'd get them to hurry. Said it could happen really soon." Nicky still hadn't eaten; she was just fiddling with her tray. "He even let her stay in her bunk for the day."
And in her bunk, squeezing a pillow to her chest, lay Red. "My Dima…" she whispered to herself over and over. She didn't cry, scream or whine, she just kept whispering the words again and again. Eventually she drifted off into a restless, nightmarish sleep.
