Disclaimer: I do not own the show or characters. All I own is the writing and story.

Author's note: So, this plot is probably an odd one compared to the majority of Lorna/Nicky stories. But it's been sitting in the back of my mind for the past month now and I just had to get it written down. I understand it's unusual and therefore understand if no one cares to read this. But if anyone does choose to give this a try, thank you. Feel free to let me know your thoughts. (Side note: Lorna and Alex have a deep friendship as they've been friends since childhood. Yes, I know it's odd, but I didn't choose the plot/idea...it chose me, I'm only the messenger. Another side note, Alex and Poussey are girlfriends in this story...I know another oddity to add to this already odd story but I write only what my mind tells me.)

Warning: This story is thick with mature/adult themes. Includes eating disorders, physical/verbal abuse, mental illness, drug addictions, and more. Read at your own risk.

Valley of Sorrow

Nicky Nichols opens the door to her shared apartment and tosses her bags onto the small table that sits in the kitchen. She grabs herself an ice-cold beer from the fridge before making her way into the living room where she plops herself down on the couch. Where her life has taken her these past few months is something that she'd have never imagined this time last year. A recovering—heavy—heroin addict, it's hard to imagine that kind of person to be a therapist. But that's exactly what she is these days. A junkie—sure, she hasn't touched a single ounce of it in years but that doesn't mean she doesn't still lust over it—therapist who sits in an office for eight hours a day listening to the problems of her several patients. Definitely a life she never thought for herself but doesn't plan on changing anything back.

"Ah, just the therapist I've been looking for," the oldest—and tallest—of the three housemates calls out, staring up from the television screen.

Nicky shakes her head while taking a large swig of her beverage. "Therapy time is over; it's time for my therapy of alcohol and shitty TV shows. I've had enough today," she mutters, gluing her eyes on the screen that sits on an uneven stand in the corner of the living room.

Chuckling, the dark-haired woman arches her eyebrows as she gazes across the room at her. "Hmm, isn't that ironic? A therapist who tells her patients not to run to alcohol but does exactly that when she gets home? Sometimes it amazes me that that's the career ya've ended up with," she shakes her head with a light smirk.

"You and me both, Vause," the redhead snickers, guzzling another sip of beer. A deep breath of air exits her body as she glances away from the television to stare at her housemate. "Believe me if ya had to hear the shit I've been listening to, you'd wanna drink afterwards yourself. My childhood is a dream compared to the fuckin' shit some a my patients had. And there's not enough alcohol in the world to get ridda those stories."

The other sighs; her smirk quickly vanishing. A waver of guilt builds, especially with the favor she's been wanting to ask. "I'm sorry…I know your job isn't always pleasant," another sigh escapes, she twirls her hands around the material that makes up the chair she sits in. Her eyes slowly avert back over to her friend's, a slight desperateness gleaming through. "Would ya, would ya be able to squeeze in a friend of mine anytime soon?"

"And who exactly would that be, huh? I'm pretty sure there ain't any reason for Poussey to need therapy," Nicky quirks an eyebrow, her eyes peaked with interest.

As if on que, the dark-skinned brunette pops her head in the room at that exact moment, "What about me? I got the laundry put away, don't needa get all worked up over it."

Nicky shakes her head. "Your girlfriend over here thinks you need a therapist," a chuckle comes out.

"The fuck? Over taking too long on the laundry? What kinda bullshit assumption is that?"

The tallest woman rolls her eyes and lets out an irritated grunt. "I didn't say anything about you—don't know where Nicky got that idea! I said a friend of mine, not my fucking girlfriend. Jesus Christ."

"Ya got a friend we ain't knowin' about?" Poussey questions with an arched eyebrow; she sits down on the couch beside the redhead and crosses her arms over her chest, intrigued to learn who the mysterious friend could be.

"Oh, please as if we don't all have our own set of friends outside of this apartment," the dark-haired woman responds with the shake of her head. But her demeanor quickly grows serious. Her eyes turn back towards Nicky, a darkness clouding them. "This is a real close friend of mine from elementary school—but she's so timid around new people that's why she's never come here to visit. Anyway, I'm kinda worried about her…she hasn't been answering my calls or showing up for work. This is a girl who never calls off—shit, there were days she came in with a 100-degree fever. Something's up with her and I think it's best she make an appointment with you, Nicky."

The redhead gulps the rest of her beer and nods. She looks directly at Alex, "Well, have ya maybe thought to go to her house? Do ya not have common sense, Vause?"

Alex glares in return. "No shit, sherlock. Course' I have."

"And? What's the problem?"

Massaging her temples, the older woman lets out a breath of air. "She's barely surviving that's the damn problem. Her house is cluttered with shit she bought off some online store, there's broken glass everywhere, and I swear she's not eating anything—something's not right with her. I tried to question her about it, but she won't even speak to me. She just sits and stares; it's like her soul left her or something."

"What's the kid's name?" Nicky asks, her eyes growing with a tenderness—something that doesn't happen often.

"And what about her family? Aren't they doing shit to help her?" Poussey chimes in her questions, arms still crossed over her chest.

"Her name's Lorna," the other answers with a sigh. She gazes down at the ground, a guilty pang in her chest. This, she knows, is information she shouldn't be sharing without her friend's consent, but the girl needs serious help, she realizes, and if she doesn't get it for her then who will? "Her family hasn't been too good to her these last few years. Not since she lost her brother. In fact, she hasn't been the same since then. She's always had some trouble with her mental health and her brother—he tried to help her, the two were pretty close, and I'm sure his death is a major reason she's declined so drastically. That's why I really would appreciate if you could schedule an appointment for her…please Nicky, I'll pay your rent for an entire month if ya can help my friend out."

Placing the empty bottle on the coffee table, Nicky nods. Her features much softer than usual. "I had a cancellation tomorrow morning, think she can come then? And, please, I don't need to be bribed to help her. However, if ya feel obligated to pay my rent, I ain't gonna argue over it."

Alex smiles gratefully, "Thanks. I'll drive her there myself if I have to. She needs this."

Lorna Morello awakens to the sound of her alarm clock ringing in her ears. She grunts out in irritation and slams her hand over the snooze button. The snooze button has become nearly her only form of exercise recently. Living is almost nonexistent to her—the days ware on and yet, she's accomplished nothing more than yesterday. Such realization only brings her down even more. She has no drive to continue on any longer.

The next time her alarm goes off, just five minutes later, she pushes herself out of bed. She walks over to her dresser to find an outfit—something long and baggy to hide her thinning frame. The mirror, that sits on the wall on her way towards her bathroom, shows a body that makes her physically ill to stare at. She frisks past it as quickly as she can.

Once she's showered and clothed, she walks into her small kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. She mixes a spoonful of cream and sugar into it, her eyes dazedly looking down in the mug as she does so. Her body stiffens shortly after when a pair of rough arms snake around her from behind. She nearly spills the hot beverage with her jump.

"Just finished my work-out thought I'd see what my beloved is up to," the voice of her boyfriend, Vinny, huskily mutters against her ear. He runs his hands slowly along her arms, a smirk forming on his face. "I hope ya haven't eaten anything…you really need to keep your figure, ya know? You look a little … thick? Ya been eatin' that nasty processed pop-tart shit again?"

Lorna sighs, trying to worm her way out of his touch. She shakes her head and walks over to the small table near the window to sit down with her mug of coffee. "I just woke up, Vinny. All I want right now is this coffee and some quiet. Please if ya could just leave me alone for twenty-minutes, that'd be real nice. I'm sorry," she mumbles into her beverage, shutting her eyes in exasperation.

Sitting right beside her, the Italian man scowls at her while reaching over to place his hand somewhat harshly on her upper thigh. A darkness lurks in his brown orbs. "Fucking kidding me, Lorna? You can't be a damn girlfriend for even two minutes? You're lucky I haven't left ya yet…ain't no one else gonna want you. A fat slobby whore who fucking wastes her time online shopping! I'm sicka this shit," he growls, pinching his hand roughly around the skin of her thigh.

She bites her lip, trying to hold in the tears that threaten to spill. The sound of knocking comes as a relief to her. Yet, before she even has the chance to get up, Vinny beats her to it and stomps his way to the door. She intently watches him open it and when she sees that it's her best friend, she feels her body instantly tense.

"Lorna ain't here," her boyfriend curtly lies, a gruff expression sitting on his face.

Alex glares darkly at him; she points her finger inside at the brunette and says, "She's sitting right there, idiot. Ya think I don't got eyes? Let me in."

Bringing the door closer to its frame, Vinny shakes his head. "No. There's no reason for you to come in. Lorna doesn't have time for visitors today. Goodbye," he bites back, nearly shutting it completely when her hand stops it.

"And since when do you have the right to decide shit for her? Let me the fuck in or I'll make you," she growls, forcing the door open and pushing past him.

Lorna slouches in her chair as if to hide herself from the two of them. Her hands shake as they hold onto the coffee mug. She tries to keep her eyes focused on what sits inside of it but when she feels a gentle hand placed on her shoulder, she lets them wander over to who owns it.

"I've made you an appointment with a therapist, Lorna, and I'm driving ya to it. I know I shoulda asked ya first, but you haven't exactly been answering my calls. I'm worried about ya, kid…what's going on?"

Vinny rolls his eyes, walking up behind his girlfriend and holds tightly onto her arm. "Ain't nothing wrong with her. Ya ain't taken her to see a dumb therapist—what a waste of money! Get outta here," he hisses, pulling Lorna away from the other woman.

The obvious pain shining through Lorna's brown orbs makes Alex's blood boil. She gets up as well and walks nearer the man, a sudden rage boiling in her light eyes. "Let go of her right now. Get your fucking hands off my best friend—you're hurting her!" Her voice deep with venom. When he doesn't seem to budge, she forces him away from Lorna and replaces his arms with her protective ones.

With the timid brunette wrapped securely in her arms, the older woman gives one last demeaning stare towards Vinny and then heads out the door with her. She gently leads her outside to her car. After Lorna's settled in the passenger's seat, Alex sits herself on the other side and starts driving out of her rickety neighborhood.

Her blue eyes wander over to gaze intently at the other. She takes note of the baggy clothes that her petite frame seems to swim in and exhales sadly. "What's going on, kid? Huh?"

Lorna shrugs, leaning her head tiredly against the rim of the window. "Everything hurts and I'm tired," she mumbles softly, letting her eyes gaze out at the passing surroundings.

An ache sits in her chest. Alex uses her free hand to gently reach over and place on her friend's. She lets her fingertips caress soothingly over her knuckles. "I'm getting you help; this will be good for you. My roommate Nicky's a great person to talk to, Lorna. She'll help ya. You can't go on like this anymore…it's not good, kid. You need help and you're getting it."

The sound of the door opening has Nicky immediately look up from her work. Her eyes wander over to the petite woman standing beside her housemate. She takes in the sight of her and realizes just how thin she is—Alex's description couldn't be truer, she internalizes. Clearing her throat, she quickly places a warm smile on her face.

Lorna grudgingly sits herself in the chair opposite the desk and watches blankly as her best friend leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. She gulps and bows her head so the therapist isn't able to see her face.

"What's your name, kid?" The redhead warmly inquiries, her voice husky and almost soothing to Lorna. It still isn't enough to make her look up and that brings concern to Nicky. She takes in her mannerisms; ones that alarm her she's harboring dark secrets. "Hey, come on, don't be shy. It's okay; I'm not here to judge ya. I'm here to listen and help."

Shaking her head, the younger woman keeps her head down and immerses herself with the pattern of the arm-rests. She twirls a finger around the swirls and mutters, "Lorna."

Nicky smiles. "A pretty name ya have, Lorna," she states, trying to loosen the conversation into an informal and inviting one. "How old are ya? Early twenties? Ya must have some good aging genes in your family—don't look a day over sixteen."

"Twenty-five," Lorna grunts out, her eyes filled with a lurking exasperation. "How long do I gotta sit here?"

Her smile quickly fades into a frown. Nicky gazes firmly across into the younger woman's orbs and sighs. "This isn't just a casual meeting, Lorna. You're here for a reason and refusing to talk isn't gonna help. I need you to open up a little bit before I can end this session. You don't have to talk about anything heavy today, kid, but I want ya to tell me what's going on. What's making you shut people out, huh?"

The brunette shakes her head. "I didn't choose to be here. Alex made me and she didn't even ask."

"She's worried about you, that's why she made you come here. And she did the right thing. You can't bottle up your emotions and expect to be okay, Lorna. That's not healthy. You didn't choose to feel like shit either, did you?"

Lorna folds her arms defiantly over her chest and gives a glare to the redhead. "You get paid to judge people. I don't want this. I don't need help—I'm fine…I got a place to live, a boyfriend, what else do I need? Not this shit—I can't even afford to pay for this so ya might as well just send me away now."

That last sentence speaks volumes to Nicky. She shakes her head fiercely and gently peers into her eyes. "I'm not judging you, I wouldn't do that. Is that what you fear, kid? Ya fear being judged? Lorna, I'm sorry to tell ya, but this world is full of judgmental asshats. It sucks and is unfortunate but the truth. Don't worry about the money; it's all free. I'm here to help you, something you clearly need. I don't say that to hurt you, believe me, I say it because you do need help. It's okay to need help, kid; it really is," she responds warmly, trying to coax her into opening up.

"Vinny doesn't approve of this."

Nicky quirks an eyebrow, "Who's Vinny?"

"My boyfriend," she mutters, her eyes focusing back on the floor. Her stomach churns just thinking about what'll happen when she returns home later. She knows it won't be anything good.

The other slowly nods, writing things down on a fresh sheet of notebook paper. "Why doesn't he want you to do this? Does he know you're having trouble with anything or are ya hiding stuff from him? It's okay, Lorna, you can be honest with me. I will not think any less of you no matter what your answer."

Lorna shakes her head. "He is the problem," she whispers, fighting back tears.

"What was that, kid?" Nicky's eyes soft with compassion.

"Nothing," she quickly answers, pulling her knees up to her chest and burying her face in them. This is somewhere she never imagined herself to be—sitting in an office with some therapist who claims to 'want' to help her. She rolls her eyes at the thought; that's not true, she knows, no one would willingly want to help.

Nicky sighs and shakes her head. "That wasn't nothing. Tell me what ya said. You can't heal if ya don't open up."

Frustrated and exhausted, the brunette pushes herself up from the chair and makes a v-line to the exit. There's no way she can handle talking to anyone about her issues—especially not some therapist who doesn't even know her. Tears blur her vision as she runs through the waiting room—ignoring Alex's concerned stares—and down the hall to the elevators. She doesn't wait for her friend, needing this time to be alone and recollect herself.

Alex walks into her roommate's office and stares at her with worry. "What happened? Did she mention something about her brother? I don't understand what made her run outta here like that," she sighs, her eyes wandering aimlessly around the room.

Shaking her head, the shorter woman reaches for her cup of coffee and takes a large sip. "I think talking about her boyfriend upset her. She said somethin' about him not wanting her to come here and then whispered something else…when I asked what it was, she said nothing and ran out. You're lucky you and she are friends or I wouldn't tell ya this—technically I still shouldn't but I know ya only wanna know so ya can help her."

"Yeah, her boyfriend's a fucking asshole. He's part of the reason I want her to come here. She needs to realize that he ain't doing shit for her. He makes her feel worthless and shitty—I want to smash his face with my fist. God, I just—did she open up about anything?"

Nicky's teeth grit to hear that. She's always loathed men who chose to treat their girlfriend's like dirt—it makes her skin crawl. Her hands shake angrily while holding onto her mug. "Hell, I wanna beat him and I just met the girl. And, no, she didn't share much with me aside from that. Poor kid…she just needs time, obviously whatever she's going through seems to make opening up a fear for her. That doesn't mean I'm not gonna try harder next time, but I know to ease her in gently. Have her come back tomorrow. Or even bring her by the apartment…maybe if she gets to know me as a person, she won't be so tense."

"I'll try to get her to come over but it ain't gonna be easy. She's a stubborn one, always has been."

Back in the car, after spending a good half-hour trying to find her friend, Alex sighs and stares concerningly over at the brunette. She softly covers her hand with her own, stroking her thumb tenderly against her delicate skin. Ever since middle-school, she worried for Lorna—the girl who has not a clue how to properly work through her feelings.

"Why did ya run away? Nicky's my friend; I wouldn't a brought you to see her if I thought she'd hurt ya in any way. You think I'd make ya do something just to watch ya suffer? Is that what ya think?"

Lorna buries herself in her oversized jacket and shrugs. "What's the point, Alex?"

Her heart momentarily stops. Eyes widen as they turn to peer sternly at her best friend. "The point of what?" She squeezes her hand tighter in her own, caressing it soothingly.

The smaller girl shakes her head. She pulls the hood of the jacket to cover her face and releases a few stray tears. "Anything," is her muffled response.

All blood drains from her face; she has to pull the car over or else she fears she'll lose control from how emotional that one word makes her. She sits, gripping her hands tightly onto the steering wheel while blankly staring out the window for several silent moments. Shortly after, she turns to stare at Lorna—eyes wet with tears.

"What the fuck does that mean? Lorna, what the fuck?"

The brunette sniffles silently, resting her head against her own knees and turning away from her friend.

Alex grabs hold of her head, looking her directly in the eyes. She intently searches the other's orbs; the pain easily noted and bringing a strong pang to her chest. Tears continue to pour out from her own. Her hands hold snugly against the other's cheeks. "Talk to me. Open your mouth and tell me what the hell you're feeling, Lorna."

"I'm empty. I have no feelings…they left a long time ago."

Biting her lip, Alex exhales a strong a breath of air. She pulls Lorna's head closer to her and hugs it protectively to her chest, running her hand softly through her hair as sniffles slowly escape her. "That's not true, Lorna. You have feelings—you just…you don't let yourself feel, baby. You let all your emotions bottle up until ya can't take it anymore; it's unhealthy. You can't keep doing this to yourself. I can't let you. You're my best friend and-and if I ever lose you…God, I can't even think about that!" She brushes her fingers tenderly through the other's soft hair and sighs, still not letting up on her firm hold.

"Just please, kid, promise me you'll give Nicky a chance? She's good. She's got a big heart like you and wants to help. Let her help you. She might even end up your friend…which I think would do ya even more good."