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A parked van waits a few yards away from her apartment. She knows it's there because of her; the vehicle arrived late last night, and remained there into the morning. Now, it's early afternoon, and maybe she's paranoid, maybe she needs to adjust to civilian life again, but she knows that van. She's seen it before, she recognises the number plate, and it makes her stomach spasm. Her parole officer hasn't come to visit; he's either late or he's forgotten or he simply can't do his job.

Not that his protection will make a difference, or help Alex feel safer. She considers staying inside, locking the doors and bolting the windows, but she doesn't have food or anything to drink. There's a small supermarket not too far from where she lives. Fortunately, it is also in the direction opposite the van, so she doesn't have to walk past it. Grabbing her bag and keys, she heads for the door, feeling numb, tired, annoyed. She stops. Gun. Get the gun. Before she evaluates the rights and wrongs of her, an ex-prisoner, carrying a lethal weapon, Alex stuffs the gun into her bag and leaves.

The moment she steps outside, she is aware she is being watched. This has happened before. In fact, she has been involved in said watching –– her former boss likes to keep his employees under control, and just to test their loyalty, he sends a couple out at times to keep tabs on any "colleagues" who have been acting suspicious recently. It's fun, the adrenaline always used to make her shake in anticipation, but she never thought she would one day be the victim.

Or, more accurately, never cared to think about the possibility.

She doesn't waste time. Alex doesn't talk or look at anyone. The food she buys is cheap, packaged; no fuss. When she returns to her apartment, the van is still there. Her breathing accelerates, and she can feel her heartbeat pounding rapidly, but she maintains a cool composure. Swiftly, she looks away from the van, pulls out her keys and enters the flat. It's quiet, the lights are dim. No one seems to be here. Alex runs up the staircase, and is about to unlock her door when she sees it's ajar.

Everything stills for a moment. She steps back. It has been a very long time since she's felt so afraid. Alex peers behind her shoulder, takes another step back, before turning around and reaching the staircase. She doesn't know what she's meant to do, but getting the heck out seems the best option right now. Her palms are clammy when they touch the bannister and she only reaches the third step when her apartment door swings open. Alex jolts, her hand darting into her bag to grab the gun––

'Whoa, whoa!'

It's a man, and he's staring at her wide-eyed, hands up in defence.

'Who the fuck are you?'

'I'm the landlord,' he says, lowering his hands. 'Calm down.'

She believes him. He doesn't look like one of Kubra's men, nor acts like one. Alex scowls. Now, she's pissed off beyond belief. The last thing she needs is a stranger waltzing into her own apartment. 'Next time, maybe you could wait until I'm in! You don't just walk in like that.'

'I know.' He twitches a smile, as if he is attempting to comfort her, but frowns again. 'I was just making sure everything is working okay. We sometimes get complaints about hot water running low, and the electricity going off. Your place seems all right.'

She doesn't care. She doesn't listen. Her heart is in her mouth when she brushes past her landlord, enters her apartment and slams the door shut behind her. For a moment, she leans against it, catching her breath, calming herself down. Then she can move. Alex locks the door, dumps her bag onto the table and glances outside the window. The van is still there.

Closing the curtains, Alex pulls off her jacket and sits. The sofa is old, tattered, second-hand. But it's better than the furniture provided by the prison. She doesn't want to think to back then, think back to the uncomfortable, springy beds, the smelly showers, disgusting food, and the inmates. In an odd way, though, she does miss the company. Admittedly, there were a handful of morons who roamed the halls, but the discussions she was dragged into and the acquaintances she made –– that was, at least, one good quality about the prison.

It's not enough to make her think back happily, however.

For the remainder of the day she reads, she hides, and she is quiet. Occasionally, she hears footsteps and chatter from her fellow flatmates, and cars on the road. Despite the lack of activity, the day feels short and she sleeps a little after ten. She is abruptly awoken four hours later by a loud bang upstairs. Someone must have dropped something, or fallen out of bed.

She struggles to sleep after that, because, for some reason, her mind thinks it's a good time to start thinking. A lot of thinking. Thinking about the van outside, and how long it intends to stay there for. Thinking about the appeal a couple of days ago, thinking about how she managed to convince Piper to lie. It was too easy. A nauseating sensation travels up her throat, but she doesn't vomit. It's actually disappointing Piper obeyed; she hasn't changed at all. She's exactly how she used to be when she assisted Alex with the drug smuggling: blinded by her own emotions, and so fucking stupid.

Except she's also very different: Piper is more confident, she doesn't hold back as much. She isn't as dependant as she used to be. And she's fickle, an absolute pain in the behind who is incapable of making up her mind. Alex is sick of the fucking fiancé, and she's sick of the jealousy which rushes through her whenever she remembers Piper chose Larry. It nearly makes her laugh, because, dammit, all the women she's known in the past have chased after her, and Piper –– the only individual she has ever come to love –– rejects her. Turns her away for the most selfish reasons.

Straight women. Alex is sick of them.

In a lot of ways, she doesn't like Piper at all, and her fickle nature is one of many unpleasant traits. Dragging Alex into the chapel and literally throwing herself onto her was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened, Alex realises this now. When Piper kissed her, she should have pushed her away. Fuck, is Alex's self-esteem that low? From the start, Piper was uncertain. There was never solid ground between them; it broke too easily. Having sex with Piper when she was –– is engaged is something Alex regrets. Because going back to that point, holding her, kissing her, touching her –– felt so good; it made her happy. Piper reminded Alex how happy she made her, before turning away when things got tricky.

The first time Piper broke Alex's heart, it took her a year to recover and heal. The second time Piper broke Alex's heart, she wasn't shocked. But that anger, and resentment returned in full, and she wanted to hate Piper. She wants to hate Piper for fucking her around because Alex refuses to get fucked around by anyone. She can be cold, vindictive, smart and manipulative, and she never lets anyone offer the same treatment. Yet, somehow, she let Piper. She let her deal the cards and lay them on the table. It's just a cruel reminder that Alex isn't who she thought she was.

Like Piper, her emotions blind her decisions. Make her act like a fool.

Alex misses her. That is a fact she can't deny. Alex misses her dearly, she misses her so much. Eight years was enough time to move on and forget, but seeing her again –– it just ignited all the emotions and thoughts and shared memories she had. It was nice. It was nice talking to her, nice to make her smile and laugh again, and it was just nice to be with her. Piper is and has always been affectionate, and very expressive about her emotions. Although it came to a sudden end, their short romance in the prison was explosive. But rushed. It came and went far too fast.

The first time they kissed, in the chapel, was reckless. She can still remember the feeling of Piper's hot, frantic breath against her skin and lips, how she moaned softly whenever Alex so much as kissed her, hands pulling at hair, clothes. They lost all sense of control, it was a mess, a blur. Piper's enthusiasm and demand was such a turn on, and Alex loved this new aggression, but it was different. She knew Piper as the submissive and hesitant one, shy but willing to try new things. That time in the chapel, she was confident, almost violent, and she wanted to touch Alex everywhere, wanted to take the lead, she wanted Alex. And Alex gave herself to her. At first, it was a fierce battle for dominance, but Piper was restless, stubborn, and by the time the last garment was carelessly flung aside, Alex let her win.

She couldn't keep up.

When Alex finally managed to have her on her back, bruised, exhausted and satisfied herself, she had kissed Piper's body, could feel the heat bouncing off her, and she shivered when Piper's hands ran through her hair, and she throbbed when Piper started to moan, gasp, beg. Alex didn't have to provide much. The familiar touch of Alex's tongue rubbing against her flower made Piper cum fast, but they both needed more. Piper whined her name when she started again, and again, and again, but the tables were quickly turned. Piper wanted to take charge once more.

Staring at the ceiling, Alex can feel her body reacting to these thoughts. A hot sensation shoots from her groin and her stomach flutters, and she groans, annoyed, turning around and pressing her face into the pillow. What a fucking waste of time. Only days after did Piper confess she wants to be with Larry, not her. Initially, Alex made Piper lie about Kubra because she was just a tool in the game, but that wasn't true. Alex holds grudges, and she can be cruel. She made Piper lie to get her back.

Every time Alex takes revenge, the aftereffect is always pleasant and sweet. However, this time round, she doesn't feel anything positive. She just feels shit. She doesn't know what's happened to Piper, doesn't know if she's been transferred, if she's back in Lichfield prison, if she's told Nicky about the incident, or if she even gives a damn. Alex knows that's false –– Piper does give a damn.

She's guilty. She feels guilty because she betrayed her, she's betrayed the only person she cares about. And now she's gone. She's vanished from her life again. Pointless. It's pointless. Thinking about Piper and feeling guilt is pointless because she is gone. Heck, Piper may as well be dead –– she doesn't exist anymore. But Alex isn't that cold, though, and she doesn't walk away that easily either. She hates herself for this, but she knows if Piper miraculously appeared at her door, she would take her in. And she would love her all over again, and she'd play the fool in a game she thought she conducted.

Turns out neither Piper or Alex are holding the strings. As cheesy and pathetic as it sounds, their hearts are and fate grins alongside.

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Forty eight hours is the minimum. Unless, someone from the outside insists she stays in longer. Piper curls her lips and viciously yanks her wrist upwards, in some attempt to break free. The sedative has worn off, and her arm still hurts from being dislocated. And it's quiet. Eery, and unwelcome. She doesn't know if it's morning yet, or if it's still night time. There are no windows, and all she can do is stare at the blank, lifeless walls surrounding her. She hates this place. She hates everything.

Not long ago, she remembered they can't keep her in the psych ward for long. Unless they do decide to press charges against her for beating the shit out of Doggett, there's not much they can do but let her go. All Piper has to do is convince them she's sane, but as simple as this sounds, she has doubts. She has doubts about who's truly on her side. The only person within the prison she felt she could trust turned his back away when she was in danger, and she knows that very same person would try anything to keep her locked away. Healy is not the man she thought he was; he's homophobic, sexist and jealous.

Fuck Healy. Fuck Larry.

Fuck Alex fucking Vause.

Those three people have made it perfectly clear they want nothing to do with her, and she shakes in anger thinking about them. Healy simply has no excuse for his behaviour, Larry needs to get a fucking grip and grow a pair, and Alex needs to go fuck herself. Then maybe choke on something. Why do I even give you the time of day? Piper can't believe she's spending her time thinking about her. She can't believe her heart still skips a beat when she thinks about her, and she can't believe she's still irrationally and dangerously in love with her. It's a love that tortures her, it shreds her insides open, makes her bleed and writhe in agony. Just thinking about Alex and all that she is, and all that she could have been, causes tears to sting her eyes.

Piper can't cry. She's cried enough times over Alex.

Suddenly the door barges open and the same man from yesterday appears. Piper is silent while she watches him skim through his notes, before looking at her. 'You're going for a short walk.'

'Oh...' He removes the straps around her wrists and ankles. 'And I was just starting to get comfortable too.'

'I have some questions to ask. If you answer them all correctly, then you may just have to spend one more night here. Show any signs of aggression or resist, then I'll have no choice but to throw you back on the bed and leave you for a few days. Hopefully you won't have gone completely mad by then.'

'I get the picture,' Piper mutters, obediently slipping off the bed and letting the man take her by the arm. Together they enter the hallway, and the shouts and screams of the inmates echo and bounce off the walls. Piper is silent while she's escorted to the end of the hall, through a door into a more quiet room, and into another. Inside, there are two chairs, and on one of the chairs are two straps waiting to be wrapped around the patient's wrists. However when Piper sits down, the doctor doesn't tie her.

It's a good sign. He thinks this is a fluke.

'I'm just curious: if you get caught not treating me like you do with your other patients, won't that get you in trouble?'

He eyes her. Smiles. 'I won't tell if you won't.'

She sits back. The room is mostly empty. It's hollow. Her doctor sits opposite, grabs his pen and chews the tip, reading over her file. Piper says nothing, drumming her fingers against the armrest. Then, without warning, he straightens and speaks.

'Tell me about the night you hit Tiffany Doggett.'

Piper swallows. There's a lot to say about that night, and she sits in silence for a while. Her doctor waits patiently, but it's discomforting the way he stares at her. Despite his lack of security over her, Piper does feel pressured into answering appropriately. 'What do you mean?' In an attempt to sound confident, to not make him doubt and question, she makes her voice strong, makes her words clear. It's an act, and an act she's learnt from Alex. Play confident, even if it's fake –– it'll get you through anything.

'What spurred you on to hurt her?' He shrugs. 'I read your records, Chapman, and nothing suggests you have a violent history. In fact, despite the drug trafficking, you're fairly clean. So, something must have happened, and I assume a lot happened in order for you to react that way.'

Piper nods. 'Yes.' She averts her gaze to the wall. 'I had a few issues going on at the time.'

'What kind of issues?'

Alex and Larry issues. Doggett was just feeding the rage.

'Emotional.'

She knows her answers are too brief, but she's reluctant to discuss Larry, and she's reluctant to discuss Alex. From the outside, Piper's situation appears inexcusable for beating up Doggett, but so much more was happening than just Alex and Larry. 'Was someone else antagonising you?'

Lying is fruitless. That was made quite clear during the appeal with Kubra. Piper sighs, because, yes, maybe her reasons are inexcusable for breaking Doggett's jaw, but fuck that. 'Not exactly.'

'Go on.'

'My fiancé ended things with me, and, for some reason, I chose him over my girlfriend who is now no longer in prison because she fucked me over in Chicago when I was asked to confirm if I knew her drug lord boss or not.' She feels a rush of anger at the memory. 'When I beat Tiffany Doggett that night, I wasn't myself. I know I wasn't.' She shrugs. 'A lot was happening to me at the time, and she wouldn't get off my back.'

'She was harassing you?'

'You said it. Not me.'

Then he's scribbling down notes. 'I see.'

'... I can't remember.'

He stops writing. Looks at her.

'What happened, and how I felt.' She shrugs again. 'I can't remember.'

He nods. 'I gathered. That usually happens when one has a fit of rage. It's why some people label it as insanity.'

'I know you said there's no point in me saying this, but I am not insane.'

'Tell me about the girlfriend. Were you having an affair?'

Piper doesn't want to talk about the girlfriend. She'd rather talk about the ex-fiancé. 'Yes.'

'I know what happened in Chicago. I'll be honest, I'm surprised you let her trick you like that, if what you're saying is true. Surely after being arrested due to being associated with the woman, you'd realise she's the last person you should trust.'

'Well, yeah, now I realise.'

'Did you love her?'

She laughs shortly, because she's tired of being asked this question.

'Do you love her?'

'I don't know.'

And that's it: Piper doesn't know. She doesn't know if she loves Alex, if she loves Larry, if she has allies back at the prison or anywhere else, and she doesn't know what –– who she wants. She doesn't know. Fuck, she'll never know what she wants.

He leans back, chews the end of his pen, stares at the notepad. 'From what you can remember, tell me how you felt when your fiancé –– I'm sorry, your ex-fiancé decided to end things with you.'

Surprisingly, it's not something she's thought about. Piper's gaze drifts to the side. 'Scared, I guess.'

'Scared of what?'

Being abandoned. Scared of being unloved and unwanted. 'I think that's obvious.'

'Mm.' He scribbles more notes down. 'And when you finished things with your girlfriend, how did you feel?'

It's disgusting. Piper has given more thought to how she turned Alex away, than to how Larry turned her away. It's wrong. It's not right. 'I don't know.'

'You weren't scared?'

'I don't know.'

'Chapman, you must have felt something.' He leans forwards. '... guilt?'

Guilt, yes. Fear? Yes. Betrayed? Yes. Upset? Yes. Yes, she felt upset, stupid and weak. She felt awful. She chose wrong.

'Maybe.' Piper has lost the will to cooperate now. She can't handle talking about Alex and how much she hurt her. 'She's not important.'

Then he smiles, and it's sympathetic. 'You've just confirmed to me that she is. What happened afterwards?'

'I got in touch with Larry, and he finished our relationship. Then I went to Alex, and she––' She was with Nicky, and it had unsettled Piper greatly to witness them together. What Alex said to her shattered Piper's heart completely, ruined everything around her. With very few words, Alex crushed her, made her feel like shit. Without having to try, Alex hurt her in ways she had never been hurt before in her life. '––She didn't want to hear anything I had to say. Which, I suppose, makes sense.'

The way Piper explains all of this is too simple. It's far more complex, but she can't go into detail. Fortunately (or unfortunately?), her doctor has been told enough. 'Thank you, Chapman. I'll take you back to your cell now.'

'Did I pass the test?'

He just smiles.

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It's three in the afternoon, and she only went out momentarily.

When she comes back, she sees the door is ajar again. Music is playing relatively loud from her radio. She knows it's the landlord, and she barges right in, 'For fuck's sake, what did I say about––?' Something heavy hits her across the head and she flies back, hitting the table. Before she can realise what's happened, someone grabs her by the scruff of her collar, and throws her across the room. Alex slams into the wall, her head smacking the hard surface. Her glasses tumble off her nose, and she doesn't see the fist coming. Blood bursts from her lower lip when she's punched in the face, and then again, then another, and then she's kneed in the stomach and she falls.

Alex groans. She tastes blood. She hears heavy footsteps. Several. Frantically, she finds her feet and darts straight for the cupboard where her gun is stored. A horrible dread possesses her when she finds it's gone. When she turns around, she's hit across the face again, but she manages to remain on her feet and attacks. Her knee hits him hard between the legs and he exclaims, grabbing her by the hair, and she wrestles against him, successfully writhing out of his grip. He shouts something, and she rushes for the door. Suddenly she's pulled back, and someone forces her arms behind her, while another proceeds to punch her in the stomach, then the face again, and kicks her to the ground.

This time, she doesn't get up. Her body refuses to move.

A few seconds pass, and a note is propped up before her. It's close enough for her to see.

Fuck me around again, then your little bitch gets it too.

Another note is placed atop.

If you tell the police about this, then I will do more than ruin her pretty face.
Love,
K

She hears the footsteps of Kubra's men leave the apartment, and close the door. The music from her radio sounds fuzzy, her body aches, and blood trickles down her scalp.

Then her mind shuts down, and blackness clouds her vision.

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author's note: First –– I'm sorry, but I never said this story would be kind. ;)
Second –– there will be Larry/Piper material in this, however it's not the primary couple and there won't be much. It sort of lingers. I'm all for the vanilla and vanilla swirl, so don't let this warning put you off. In some ways, this story will reflect some events in the second season, hence the Larry/Piper.

What I really want to say is thank you. The five reviews I received from garganta, jacklavigne, Owlice, izzielg and xxBurningxx are wonderful. I wasn't expecting such positive feedback! I hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Until next time!

Rating has changed to Mature for obvious reasons.

Edit: Thanks to a dear anon, I realise I've mentioned the appeal was in Paris not Chicago. So I've changed that. I feel like a tit. Oops.