It'll be longer than the three parts promised, and it will be updated again on Thursday!

Beta-ed by Grace

Rated T

"Where did you get that?"

Oliver Thredson slapped the woman on the cheek lightly before putting his hand on her shoulder. When she didn't look at him, he snapped his fingers in front of her face. "Come on, Lana, pay attention. Do you want to get out of here?"

"But where did you get that?"

"What does it matter? Do you feel sick at the thought of this picture?"

She wanted to nod, but the nauseous feelings she felt were far from originating from disgust or hate. She felt sick with love. Puppy love, almost. She wanted to be sick and throw up rainbows and little hearts and butterflies and produce some more just so that she could vomit her love again and again.

She managed to shake her head and suddenly she was retching into the bucket in her lap as the therapist turned the vial attached at her forearm. The picture on the wall swam in her vision and she gritted her teeth as another wave hit her, but she swallowed it back.

Vomiting while looking at Mary Eunice would have been like spitting on God herself.

It bothered her slightly that Thredson had a picture of the nun in his slides, though she was far from looking as skimpy as the other photographed girls had. No, in this she was demure, like she always was. It was a candid of her standing outside, the sun shining in her golden locks even though it was in black and white and Lana could see the outline of one of the inmates leaving the frame. The girl was obviously grinning at him or her, a light twinkle in her eyes, but the brunette imagined the smile to be for her and her only.

She bit back another wave.

"And now?"

Thredson's voice grated at her nerves.

"I'm over it."

"If you were you'd be throwing up again."

She watched him prick a syringe into the bag a foot over her head, adding more of the nasty liquid that made her empty her stomach. She wanted to rip her arm away, no matter if she did and it left a scar on her skin. He'd pricked her, missed her, so many times anyway that one more point wouldn't hurt.

"Where did you get it, Oliver." She finally growled.

He turned to watch her, her reflection in his thick rimmed glasses. "I asked Sister Jude." He blinked. "Monsignor Howard used to have a photography workshop. It got cancelled when Shelley decided to-" He paused. "You don't need to hear the rest of that story, I don't need you fantasizing." He rounded her chair and kneeled in front of her, gazing at her carefully. "What does it matter, Lana?"

"She doesn't belong with the rest of the pin ups you have in your little presentation."

"Are you defending her virtue?" He waited for an answer, but he got none, and he finally sighed as he stood back up to his full height. He pressed another slide into the projector and this time it was the other side of the sister, her hair on fire with sunlight. Her smile had fallen and she looked pensive but Lana only thought she was more beautiful. The brunette's eyes glazed over as she thought of the nun, most likely a little harder than she should have.

"You're smiling stupidly." Thredson commented. He tapped his finger against the fluid sack and Lana's stomach twitched and her intestines twisted in pain.

"Just change it."

The next was of another young nun, someone she didn't know, standing with Mary. They held their heads together, talking to each other in soft tones and Lana could feel the pit in her stomach filling with something that couldn't be anything but jealousy. This time she didn't stop the acidic burn running out of her throat and into the metal bucket, though it wasn't meant for the blonde.

And Thredson didn't seem to know any better as he patted her on the shoulder reassuringly.

"You're doing great."

She wanted to bite his fingers until he let go.

And she knew she should have complied but she wouldn't be broken. The image of the awkward blonde kissing her with fumbling touches wouldn't be broken, no matter how much sickness the doctor pumped into her. She let her black eyes slide away from the pictures up on the walls, entertaining the thought of full lips against her own instead of the doctor standing beside her.
Her chin was suddenly wrenched up and she stared into Oliver's face.

"You have to let me help you."

"I'm sure there's another way than me throwing up my breakfast."

"There is. It's called electroshock." He watched her shiver. "That's what I thought. Just a few more, Lana, and I'll let you go."

She limped out into the hallway a half an hour later, her stomach crying out in abandon and her throat parched and burned. She wanted to walk back to her cell but she stopped at the first floor's intersection and sunk down to her knees, back sliding down the wall.

Mary came to find her, walking stiffly from her wounds healing over slowly, and Lana dropped her head to her shoulder when the girl sat down beside her.

"Are you alright?"

The brunette closed her eyes. "What did Shelley do to get the photography class cancelled?"

The girl began to blush. "She took lewd pictures."

"Of course."

Author's Note to Keep You Updated:

So in the next few months I'll be finishing up a multi-chapter and rather long Game of Thrones/American Horror Story crossover that I've started, in which the AHS characters are inside the GoT world (There won't be any GoT characters, so there's no need to watch/read to understand what's going on! It's all fairly explained in the chapters and I'll post a link to the map I used.)

It features the main ships (Violate, Foxxay, Bananun, Faxeman, Zyle, so on and so forth), all seasons and as many characters as possible, and the entirety of Westeros plus a handful of the Free Cities (Qarth, mainly.).

(Trigger warnings will be applicable by chapter and those will be bolded and italicized when ready to publish.)

Other fics will be written in the meantime, so there's no worry there!

Keep on rockin' guys,

xoxo