Title: Unbreakable
Summary: A little snippet dissecting Nicky and Piper's conversation, after Vee administers a severe dose of electroslock therapy to Red's face. Also, a tender moment between our fav. Mother/Daughter duo.
Disclaimer: I do not own OITNB or any of its characters. They belong to Jenji Kohen, I do however, own my writing so please don't steal- Johanna002©
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A/N: Yes, I did take the conversation that Nicky and Piper have in S2E13. I wanted to explore the emotions swirling in Nicky's head during this scene and expand on them. I hope you enjoy!
My mind is racing a mile a minute. So much has happened in the last twenty-four hours, I'm not sure how to process it all. I keep replaying the image of Red laid out on the floor of the greenhouse, her face badly bruised: blue and purple marring her beautiful, porcelain Russian features. Her face was covered in blood, as was her clothing. She looked like death.
I sit in Red's bunk, talking to Chapman in hopes of easing the worries that flood throughout my head. I hear the lame joke leave my lips, "Please tell me Figs keeps a vibrator in her desk." I occupy my hands with Red's Mytryoshka dolls, her colorful knitted blanket folded across my lap. "I have this crystal clear image of her there, feet up, high heels knocking over the pen cup while she just goes to town on her clit with a pocket-rocket."
Chapman steals my thunder, announcing that all she had found in the drawers were snack wrappers. I'm appalled, as now the only image I can picture is the she-devil being a bulimic with barf breath.
For the most part Chapman is a decent human being. However, her priorities were severely fucked up. She's thrilled that she gets to stay here in Litchfield.
I'm confused and angry. "Ah! Whoopie. You get to stay here… in hell." My arms are outstretched and the sarcasm continues to roll off my tongue in waves. "Hey, maybe, you'll get slocked to death by a psychotic heroin dealer!"
"How's Red?"
Took you long enough, bitch. I of course keep the thought to myself. I try to hide my concern, but to no avail. I can hear my shaky voice respond, "Alive. It's all I know." My lips start to quiver, but I mask it. I will not cry. Not in front of Chapman. I've cried enough already for one day.
"And that's a fucking miracle, you know? Not a lot of news coming out of the medical unit, so…" I chuckle softly, but it's a dangerous sound. I am angry. So fucking angry.
I had parked myself in Healy's office most of the day, begging him to give me any information. Red was the closest thing I had to a real mother. Prison or no prison be damned, I was not going to simply lay back and let them appease me with their bullshit, political antics. If it were me lying on that fucking gurney, I know for a fact that Red would have grated somebody's balls with the cheese grater before she just let them whisk me away.
Chapman apologizes, she must be able to see how hard I am attempting to control myself and my anger. Everyone knows what's what. Red is my mother. I am her daughter. There is nothing that anyone could do or say that would deter us from the other.
I stammer, fighting to keep the tears that threaten to fall from my eyes at bay. "Those ass clowns launched their bull shit investigation, even though everyone knows exactly who did it." My anger is rising to an unbearable peak. If Vee thought she was going to get away with this, she was surely mistaken. She had fucked with the wrong bitch.
In my haze of rage I advise Chapman to ask for her transfer back. I want nothing more to escape this hell hole myself. The better part of me fights to reason, that outside these four walls I have nothing to go back to. My biological mother was a cunt, and would surely throw me to the wolves.
Chapman whines, unable to bare one fucking single moment of solitary. Blonde, Taylor Swift mother fucker wouldn't last a goddamned minute with my witch of a mom. She goes on about how she can't lose any more people, and her lips turn up into a smile when she mentions Alex's name.
I know the hurt is prominent on my features. I am baffled at how she can turn this moment- this moment of me needing her comfort, into a moment about her and her own sick, narcissistic fantasies. She's thrilled that her demented ex-girlfriend, life ruiner, ex-mistress, current hook up, is planning a trip to come and visit her.
"Jesus, Chapman," I shake my head in disgust. I am so fucking tired of everyone's problems being more important than mine. I was barely hanging on. Red had just been jumped, and here this bitch was, talking about herself. "You need to figure out what the fuck you want."
If I don't leave this cube, I'll sure as fuck deck the shit out of her.
She shakes her head, muttering, "I know," but she doesn't. She doesn't know, and she doesn't care about anything else except what's going on in her life.
"You know, 'cause if it really is to stay here in this shithole, so you can get occasional visits from your demented girlfriend, I mean, then man, it sounds like you're living the dream!" I stand up. I am fuming with anger. My hair feels as if it is on fire. "But if you want my advice, then get out of your goddamn drama for a minute, you know? Maybe, spend some of that energy praying that your roommate makes it out of medical with all of her brain cells intact!"
"I'm sorry Nicky, I didn't mean to make this about me." Her voice is low and she's barely able to meet my glare.
I scoff, "No, don't worry. I get it. It's not the same for you."
"I care about Red, too."
I shake my head. You care about her; I love her. There is a huge fucking difference, and if you don't mind me saying so, my feelings at this point, should come above yours. Red was my mom. Not hers, not anyone else's- mine. Red may have cared, and she may have graced everyone with her vivaciousness, but there was a part of her that was reserved solely for me.
"Uh-huh. Okay, but she's not your mom." I know my voice has taken on a darker tone. "It's different when your family." Marching out of the cube I don't bother to look back. I feel no remorse for my harsh words.
My head was throbbing, it felt as if I'd had a million pen needles shoved into my temples. I wanted to lie down, but I knew sleep would not come. My feet carried me down the hallways I had walked too many times before with Red, and without having even consciously registered where I was heading, I was standing outside Mr. Healy's office once more.
A closed hand lifted from my side to knock on the wood of his door. When there was no answer I try the doorknob, and to my already heightened levels of frustration, I realize that the door's locked. A triad of colorful obscenities leave my lips, and I rest my head against the door.
Was it too much to ask to be updated on Red's condition, for fucks sake?
"Nichols!"
I turn at the sound of my name being called to find Mr. Caputo and CO Donaldson rounding a corner.
"Man, I wasn't doing shit."
"Turn around," Caputo commands. "Hands behind your back."
My eyes widen, I feel as if they're about to pop out of my skull. "Man, what the fuck?" For once I do what I'm told. "Look, I don't want problems, I just wanted to know how Red was. I didn't do anything."
Donaldson cuffs me and already I can feel the metal digging into my flesh. He pulls me by the arm and Caputo follows close behind us. I have no fucking clue what's going on and I'm starting to become panicked.
"Where are we going?" My question remains unanswered. My fear is only heightened by the realization that no one is around to witness this chain of events. Many of the Litchfield ladies were either waiting to be interviewed by SIS or they were out in the yard.
Our travels are met by some fancy loops and turns, and when we leave the main wing of the prison Caputo speaks in a low voice, "Listen Nichols, I'm trying to do you and Red a solid here." He sighs softly and his hand runs over his face, playing with the length of his mustache. "Don't make me regret my decision." I stared at him blankly and we continued to walk another
twenty feet, where we're finally met with the infirmary doors. Caputo opens the door and inclines his head in respect. Donaldson's hold doesn't loosen on me, but I hardly notice as every piece of the puzzle seems to suddenly start to falling into place.
I see Red's form on the other side of the window and I smile. Her head is turned, seeming obviously engrossed in the conversation she is having with the Sister. I look to Donaldson, and though I always thought him a strange creature, I smile. He and Caputo seemed pleased with themselves, at this token of gratitude that they're gifted me with.
"Nicky?" Red's voice is unsure, her eyes light up in delight as I enter the room. She too must think this is a dream,
I look to the Sister and smile, she smiles back and turns on her side away from us, gifting us with the illusion of privacy. "Hi, Ma," I finally let my eyes met hers and I feel a sense of relief wash over me when I see a spark of light ignite in her beautiful blue eyes. Donaldson uncuffs me and in a second I'm moving to embrace my mother.
I'm careful not to hurt her, but my heart feels completely sated as I bask in the warmth of her. I sit in the chair that Caputo had pulled up for me, and in a second I feel the cuffs link my left hand to the chair.
"Well," I look to Donaldson and then to the unattractive bracelet. "It could be worse." I use my right hand to grab Red's. "How you doing, Red?" My eyes wash over her features and I'm saddened to see how disheveled and broken she looks. Her bruising was already starting to turn yellow, which meant they were healing, so that was a good sign. Caputo and Donaldson quietly exit the room and I sigh happily. Quality time with Red was just what I needed.
"I'm sore, and have a raging headache," she tells me. A small smile graces her lips, "But, I'm better seeing you." Her hand reaches out to caress my cheek and play through my hair, I lean into her touch. Just twenty four hours ago I wasn't sure if I would ever see her again.
"I love you." It's sudden and urgent and my voice shakes as I say it, but I need her to know that I love her. I need her to know how much I need her.
She smiles and her hand squeezes mind. "I love you too, Nicky." I know she can see the fear that dances in my eyes. "Don't worry, malyshka" She soothes to me in her comforting Russian accent. "I'm fine."
We enjoy each other's company, and for a few hours I am able forget how close I had come to losing her. So fearful of the unknown, and so angry at the lack of support that I craved, I could have easily spiraled out of control and done something that I would have later on regretted: be it relapsing or picking a battle to a war I would not have won, I feel a sense of pride in my ability to control myself in a way that I had never before been able to.
Red begins to doze off after being administered some pain medication, and Donaldson allows me to sit with her until she falls asleep. I trace circles on the back of her hand, and say a silent prayer of thanks that she's going to be okay.
With the steady rise and fall of her chest, I signal to the CO that I'm ready to go. "Have a good rest, Ma" I say quietly against her ear before kissing her temple. "I love you."