AN: Uf. Thank you all so much for your reviews! They're very much appreciated and you're all way too nice and I'm way too smiley whenever I get a new one. I really hope you like this one because I am stupidly proud of it. Also, special thanks to Elizabeth, AKA ambitious-juvenile for helping me with this (because honestly, furrowed instead of burrowed gives a weird mental image).


"Piper!"

Alex called out for her, confusion and anger still clear in her voice. She jumped out of the car, messily wiping her tainted hand on her jeans, trying desperately to rid herself of the blood that didn't belong to her. This wasn't right.

"What the fuck?" She murmured, and lifted her gaze to watch. Piper was walking away from her and even though Alex could see her whole body shaking, she found herself divided, one part of her still grudgingly pissed and possessive over her box.

She's just exaggerating, she shouldn't have messed with my stuff, came the thought and it suddenly occurred to her how petty that sounded; but the fury was still reigning in her head, making her clench her teeth. Piper is walking away. She ran a hand through her hair and let out a groan as she leaned against her car, her mind running through the implications of this situation. Who the hell does she think she is? Another groan, deep in her throat. Lately, she found it hard sometimes to pull herself together and Alex had to admit she'd been out of it herself. My box. Was Piper exaggerating? Was Alex? Maybe she'd gotten a bit carried away. Maybe I should go after her. The way Piper had screamed was bothering her, the echo still repeating itself over and over in her brain. She swallowed. Her anger faltered. She looked like she was sorry. She had seen the fear in her eyes, heard it in her voice and she still kept going. She looked more than sorry. Piper's quivering voice replayed in her mind and Alex straightened herself, stepped away from the car and turned around. Piper was still walking away. Is she shaking? This definitely wasn't right.

The way Alex had so completely lost it, the fact that yelling had never been her thing and on that train of thought, thinking about how she had never quite yelled at Piper; those were the things that finally made an uncomfortably heavy guilt settle in her stomach. She rounded the hood and sprinted towards her.

"Piper! Wait!"

She still wasn't sure how alarmed she should be, or the extent of the fight until Piper turned around. And Alex forgot how to breathe.

She stopped dead in her tracks, still a good distance between them, not daring come any closer.

Piper's face was pure terror. There were tears running down her cheeks although she didn't seem to have noticed as her chest constricted violently, desperately drawing in breaths, heaving. She raised her hands, palms showing, one palm still bleeding, nearly up to her face, ducking her head slightly, as if covering herself. Alex's face scrunched up in confusion until her next words shed some light over the situation. But still, she was left completely helpless as to how to react when those searing words left Piper's mouth.

"Please don't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I took your box, I'm sorry, please don't hurt me."

Her voice was a quivering, pleading mess and it made Alex's heart feel like it was being seized out of her chest, crushing her lungs in the process, as it cracked in a thousand pieces. Piper looked as small as ever, with her shaking hands and her begging eyes and when the thought inevitably came, it was slow, impossible and wrecking.

She's… scared of me?

Alex couldn't move. She couldn't speak. Her brain trapped in a vicious cycle repeating those words that didn't seem to fit into anything she'd ever known before. Piper. Afraid. Of me. Afraid. Of me.

It just didn't make sense. Every fiber of her being denied the thought of ever ever hurting Piper. How had they ended up here? Alex thought about the box, the screaming, the anger bubbling in her chest and exploding off of her, the terrified look on Piper's face, her stuttered out answer, but how had they ended up here? What could have possibly happened to Piper for her to turn into this? And then, the thought that completely petrified her, smashing into her brain and tangling in all of the webs. Her whole being, caught up in one single question, unhinging everything she'd ever built about herself.

What did I do?

The same weakening fear in Piper's eyes settled deep and cold in her bones as it spread to the rest of her body. Because, what kind of person does this? What kind of person is capable of terrifying someone to this point?

What did I do?

Meanwhile Piper kept retreating, walking backwards; hands still raised in surrender. It was only when she almost tripped that Alex was able to snap out of it. She took an instinctive step forward, hands lifting, attempting to catch, but that only made Piper speed up her pace and Alex retreated, a shiver running up her back and her chest constricting.

What is happening? Why—she shook her head, gasping for air. She found her feet, staring intently, trying to find her direction but there was no time. Piper was leaving. She tried one more time to gather her thoughts, this time choosing to focus on her eyes, so clearly out of her mind. The words panic attack crossed her mind, although she'd never seen her having one so bad before. This was reaching borderline madness. She needed to snap her out of it. Alex wouldn't be surprised if she fainted all of the sudden and what was killing her was that she wasn't close enough to catch.

She should have seen this coming. How had she missed this? Piper was falling, had been stumbling all along, and Alex had been the one to push her off the edge.

"Pipes." She jumped at her words and Alex flinched. She tried again, softer. "Piper. Kid. Listen to me, listen to my voice." Piper shook her head, avoided her eyes. "Piper. Look at me, kid. Look at me. I'm not going near you, okay? But look at me." Piper swallowed and she seemed to want to just glance at her but then her eyes stayed glued to hers as Alex pushed her glasses out of her face. She glanced away, once, lower, but then came back. "Good. It's all good. Listen to me, Pipes. I'm sorry I got mad" Her eyes got wild again and flitted away, down again. "No, listen to me. It's alright. It's just a stupid box—"

And Piper gasped as her eyes trailed down again and that's when Alex realized she was still holding it. That's what Piper kept coming back to. Left hand, low. Shit. Slowly, very slowly, she kneeled and placed it on the ground. Piper watched her every movement. She seemed to relax a bit now that the box was out of Alex's hands so Alex gently – so gently she winced at her weakness, at her stupidity, at the guilt boiling like fire in her blood—kicked it aside, away from her.

"See? I don't care about the box. Look at me, kid. I'm sorry I" Avoid it. "I'm sorry." Piper finally looked at her again. The clouds were receding, leaving behind only utter sad confusion. She let her arms fall to her sides as her eyes cleared up, bit by bit. She whimpered and Alex took a miniature step closer, that little pain filled sound managing to shred her last bit of self control.

"Piper." She let out in a husky, broken voice. Needy, scared, tearing. It was all she could do to not jump forward to embrace her, hold her, help her get back together, push her pieces into a one. It was soft and pleading and so, so filled with meaning. It took a second of deafening stillness, before Alex got to watch the change in her eyes as they surfaced from the darkness into this vulnerable, childish thing. And that's when Piper seemed to finally wake up because she let out a gut wrenching sob and her whole body seemed to slump as she strode forward in tiny, calculated and weak steps.

Alex got there faster.

Feeling as if she'd been running top speed, her whole body seemed to almost lurch forward when she stopped, desperately wanting to touch her, make sure she was alright; but she stopped herself a step away, terrified to scare her away again. Her hands immediately lifted, almost reaching out, almost holding tight, almost never letting go. But she didn't dare. Piper looked fragile enough to vanish.

Her head was bowed down, her left hand closed tightly in a fist and Alex couldn't see her face.

Defeated. Piper looked defeated.

She lifted her free hand and messily wiped her whole face with her sleeve, sniffling. A whimper left her mouth and she rubbed her face harder with her arm. And that's when Alex understood that she was trying not to cry.

Alex was having trouble breathing, thinking about her trying to hold any more hurt in. Her eyes had been so filled with sadness that Alex was scared her unshed tears would drown her if she didn't let them go.

And as she patiently waited, she watched. She deliberated. She tried to understand.

Alex had never seen anyone look so unreasonably scared; and that was saying something for someone who had years of drug dealing on her back. She had never seen someone so out of it. And staring at this shaking, broken mess in front of her, a world away from the happy, smile-like-sunshine Piper Chapman she'd fallen madly in love with, a deep fear found its roots in her body. Because there was no question now. The thought had crossed her mind fleetingly a few times before, ever since they'd encountered again but she'd always ended up brushing it off when she'd see her smile even though it didn't quite resemble Alex's memories of it, and that was something Alex could never forget. Now there was no doubt. And the thought burned into her brain with a deafening finality to it.

There was something deeply, disastrously and dangerously wrong with Piper.

And with a sigh, Alex surrendered herself to her fate, because she knew that she would never be able to walk away from her as long as Piper needed her. Even if it destroyed her in the process.

And staring at her face right in that moment Alex was sure that oh, it was starting to.

So she swallowed, drew in a forced breath to make sure her voice wouldn't fail her. And then, as softly as she could muster, she mumbled, "Pipes?"

Piper raised her face. Puffy red eyes filled with hurt and embarrassment, runny nose and quivering lips made her look small enough to break. A vulnerable, crying mess, and Alex's heart seized again; not sure how anything would ever be right again when Piper looked so irreparably broken.


It was when Piper saw the guilt in Alex's face; it was when she felt the pain in her heaving breaths and her hesitant, shaking hands hanging right in front of her only an inch away.

It was the way Alex looked just as scared as her that finally snapped her out of it.

She lurched forward taking the last step between them and wrapped her arms around Alex's waist in a death grip, her left hand still curled in a fist placed right between her shoulder blades, pressing her infinitely closer to Piper's own body as her right hand grabbed a fist of Alex's clothes. She buried her face in her neck, still panting through her mouth as heated, choked out words left her lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Alex, I don't know why—I don't know what happened to me. I… I lost it. I shouldn't have—" A sob cut her words and she burrowed even deeper into her skin, trying to regain her breath before continuing. "I shouldn't have tried to open your box." She said lastly, with a broken voice and Alex's own raised to a quiet murmur enough to bring back air into Piper's lungs.

"Shhh." She mused, her hands at the same time wildly and gingerly running through her hair, down her arms, then her back and up again. She was restoring warmth into her limbs, completely focused on the task of covering every reachable inch of her with her hands and Piper could feel herself slowly but surely regaining her ground, coming back to herself. So she clamped her mouth shut, just holding onto Alex, breathing her in and letting everything else just fade away. And then Alex was whispering in her ear sweet nonsense, softly, slowly and Piper closed her eyes and let herself be drowned in Alex's soothing voice for a while; telling her it was going to be alright, telling her it didn't matter, telling her she didn't have to worry about anything, telling her I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

She didn't know for how long they stood like that, holding onto each other for dear life until Piper's tears finally ceased their downfall and she pulled slightly back, only to rest her forehead against Alex's collarbone, who was still caressing her hair so gently she could only feel the ghost of her hand over her.

And then Piper thought about how this was the first time she'd hugged Alex in forever and a whole new feeling of urgency took over her already unstable mind and she found herself gripping her tighter to her body to the point she didn't know where she was besides next to Alex.

It'd been awhile since she'd felt this connected to someone, not having to voice anything aloud, allowing themselves to just feel. She could feel Alex's lips on her forehead, the top of her head, her burying her nose in her hair, breathing her in just like Piper was. And Piper wanted to just stay here forever but as beautiful as sharing this forgotten link felt like after two long, lonely years, she could also physically feel Alex's pain, her guilt, her sorrow. This wasn't real. This wasn't alright. And it was Piper's fault, not hers.

"Alex." She whispered. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say; if it'd be worth trying to convince her she had nothing to apologize; if she wanted to apologize or accept her apology. She wasn't ready to look her in the eye and see the unfair guilt clinging there because it wasn't fair, it wasn't her fault and she didn't know how to get that message across without revealing the whole story, without uncovering her own life.

She didn't know if she was ready to let go of the illusion Alex held for her and that was such a selfish thought her whole body shuddered at the notion. Alex gripped her tighter, her hands finally gaining the firmness Piper remembered in her.

"Are you cold? Do you want to go to the car?" She said, pulling back from her with her hands firmly placed on her upper arms, lowering her head to get to her eye level.

Piper swallowed and all she could do was nod her head. Gingerly placing her arm around her shoulders, but still firmly holding her, Alex began guiding her to the car only to stop in front of the metallic box she'd left on the ground. When Piper looked at her to ask why they'd stopped, Alex wasn't looking at her. She followed her gaze and tensed when she noticed the box. Alex's arm was growing limp around her until it was barely resting against her and she hesitated, shuffling her feet and clearing her throat after a moment.

"I need to bandage your hand again. I should probably… pick it up." She said in a small voice, intently staring at it while flicking a quick glance at Piper, who looked away before disentangling her arm from around her waist and pulling away. The cold air finally seemed to affect her as she crossed her arms in an attempt to replace the arms that had been so firmly holding her.

"Of course." Piper watched from the corner of her eye as Alex bent down and lifted it, swiftly running her hand along its surface with such a delicacy Piper forced herself to look away. She saw Alex turning around to face her after a minute and she started walking before Alex could wrap her in another embrace again.

She heard her say something and turned around to face her; to find her walking quickly over to the copilot's seat before going in, her knee resting on the seat before she pulled out again, holding something in her hand.

"The bandage I… it fell." She mumbled, before gesturing for her to go in and Piper gave her a weak thankful smile before going inside. She watched as Alex rounded the car and hesitated at the entrance before mumbling a low give me a sec and turning around to open the box. She entered the car slowly, glancing at Piper to make sure it was alright and once she'd sat down, she hunched over to put the box under her seat without looking at Piper. Then, with a long sigh, she turned her body to face her.

"Piper."

Piper heaved a long, imitating sigh and rested her head on the seat before slightly turning her face to look at her. She was still trying to grasp the extent of her fuck up and it was written in Alex's face a bit too clearly for her to handle. Searching her face, all she could find were apologies, hurt and guilt and it just struck her again, without a doubt and without any hesitance.

Alex is good.

Too good for this. Too good for me. It was a dangerous line of thought for Piper because it threatened to collide with everything she wanted and couldn't take. It was the reason no I'm sorry would ever be good enough to convey what she felt, or to fix anything besides her own ego. Alex was good, even after everything that had happened, Alex remained good to Piper in ways no one, even before Aaron, had ever been with her.

She didn't know if she deserved that anymore.

She didn't know if she had it in her to reciprocate that kind of love now. Maybe she was just too ruined. She idly wondered how Alex hadn't noticed yet.

"Alex."

Alex bowed her head, looked back up. She said nothing. Instead, she stretched out her hand and Piper suddenly remembered her cut, her still bleeding hand, and she instinctively curled her hand tighter. Alex pressed her lips lightly with an almost imperceptible raise of her eyebrows that only made her look infinitely younger and vulnerable and Piper unclenched her hand. Shuddering at the stickiness, she placed it in her palm; trying to convey that she wasn't afraid of her, that it was never her that was the problem. She was miles away from knowing how to yet. Still, Alex gave her the tiniest of nods before beginning the process of cleaning and bandaging again and this time Piper didn't have a problem with avoiding the blood because Alex's face was all she could see.

She didn't know if Alex would ever be able to look at her the same way if she knew the truth and in a way, she would be losing her. And losing herself in the process because right now, Alex was the only person that looked at her in a way that somehow remembered her for who she was. If Alex learned what she'd become… she was afraid she would stop being Piper even to herself. Just another cliché, washed away under the name of disaster. And Piper wasn't sure she could fight the tide anymore. Maybe she ought to just be washed away.

But looking at Alex, she began wondering if she could handle anything more. Alex still looked as tired as the day they'd re-collided in that hospital. Always, always tired and it clicked in Piper's mind that it was almost five am and if things were still the way they used to be—and she was most confident that they were, since Alex still worked for the cartel—then she must spend the whole day working, only to meet her at night instead of resting. For a second, she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of that before and she had to look away to gather her thoughts.

Alex was not taking care of herself, Piper could see it, she knew from that first day at that hospital and yet— here she was, messing with her feelings in the worst ways possible because she was incapable of telling the truth. All for the sake of keeping up a senseless charade that wasn't doing anyone any good.

The question slipped from her lips before she could give herself time to think of the consequences.

"Do you think we should keep seeing each other?"

Alex stopped. Piper was still not looking at her. She didn't want to see her reaction. After a second, she felt her hand again, gingerly dabbing the gauze in her skin, clearing away the blood. Her voice came through another second later, too low for Piper to detect anything besides hesitancy.

"Do… you think we shouldn't keep seeing each other?"

Piper didn't know how to answer that, so she just looked at her and in her eyes Alex found all the answer she needed. Without a word, she bowed her head again. She took the last piece of gauze from her knee and placed it on Piper's palm, taping it to her skin with the masking tape as she finished with a soft pat. Alex didn't let go of her hand. She lowered their hands to rest on the center console and began playing with her fingers. Piper waited patiently, allowing her to think through whatever she was trying to say, staring at their joined hands.

"I can't believe I yelled at you." She said so softly Piper's heart forgot to react at the mention of their fight. She forgot everything except Alex's fingers treading through her own and her voice lingering in the air. Piper sighed at the stillness of the moment, relaxing against her seat. There was nothing to be afraid of here; and maybe this was all she needed. Alex touching her. Alex comforting her. Alex here. Her heart kept pushing her forward, always pulling and pulling as if attempting to break out of her chest, all in the name of ending up next to hers.

Piper was craving all of it and she didn't know how long she could keep this unfathomable distance between them. Tonight had set the clock in motion.

But Alex was still speechless, still trying to say something, still caught up in too many things. And Piper thought that maybe some distances just weren't meant to be crossed at all. Maybe too far is just too impossible. Maybe some mistakes just aren't fixable. And maybe that's a lesson she should have learned a long time ago.

"I can't believe I was the reason for another of your panic attacks." Piper's fingers stilled at that, surprised at Alex's naming of her break down. She pulled her hand slightly back, only their fingertips connecting now, as she considered what to say. She needed to say something. But god, Piper had never been good with words. With comfort. That was always Alex and everything seemed even more so very much unfair in that second, and for a fleeting, searing second Piper hated herself.

"Alex—" She tried, but only made it so far before Alex was speaking again and her voice was so quiet Piper was afraid to breathe in case she missed anything.

"I can't believe how scared you were." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper and Piper didn't know what to say for a second until Alex continued, so low Piper almost didn't hear it. "Of me." At that, Alex withdrew her hand completely, physically folding in on herself, pulling away and Piper instinctively reached for her. Her hand went for hers again but Alex moved away, straightening herself in her seat, facing forward. She placed her hands on the steering wheel, drawing in a deep breath, her hair falling like a curtain, blocking her face and Piper could tell she was desperately trying to gather herself. There was something in the way her shoulders slightly shook that snapped Piper out of it and gave her enough impulse to finally move.

She stretched over the console, her whole body reaching for her and placed her right hand on her left cheek, gently turning her face at the same time she let out a drawn out, "Al."

She let her thumb brush her cheek and pulled her face closer as she neared the edge of her seat until their faces were only inches apart and began spilling out, scorching her eyes for an approval, a signal that anything she was saying was helping.

"Alex. Listen to me and please—" She looked down, closed her eyes, drew in a breath and when she let it out, she lifted her gaze again, as the words left her mouth. "Please believe me. What happened tonight wasn't— it wasn't your fault. I… I overreacted and I couldn't think straight and I couldn't help it and that wasn't your fault." Alex began shaking her head, pulling back but Piper let her hand travel back around her neck and kept her still. "It wasn't. I've… I haven't been good, Alex. And I get easily scared and I just had a really shitty day at work and it all just mixed up andI shouldn't have pried into your life! It was stupid and childish and it's alright, okay? You had every right to be…" She couldn't help the slight tremor when she kept going, "mad at me for—"Alex began shaking her head again and Piper was left speechless with the fire in her words and the intensity in her eyes when she interrupted her.

"This is isn't alright, Piper. Nothing here is alright. What happened tonight is not fuc—" She ran a hand down her face with a long forceful sigh that resembled a groan before she joined Piper's hand on her cheek and met her eyes again. "Piper." She said and it somehow sounded pleading, like she was begging for something, anything to make sense of this and Piper was beginning to fear she could not leave Alex tonight without giving her something.

She would not leave tonight whole.

Piper closed the distance between them and pressed their foreheads together, closing her eyes shut and that's the moment Alex, perhaps unknowingly, threw her fatal shot. Turning her head slightly, with a feather like brush of her lips against Piper's cheek and her next words, Piper knew any fight in her was over.

"Just tell me… are you okay?" She mused without pulling back, almost whispering in her ear and Piper knew she wasn't referring to just tonight. She'd finally caught the fault line in her eyes, and Piper felt very tired all of a sudden. She swallowed, looked down and began staring at her fingernails until Alex muttered a soft hey against her cheek to get her attention and that was all it took. She'd always been like that, always knowing when to say what.

Piper was not so good at that.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"Hey." She repeated, imitating Piper's whisper, a hand lifting to brush her other cheek, keeping her there. "Why are you sorry? It wasn't"

"I'm an alcoholic."

The silence that followed that statement made Piper's stomach sink, the words hanging threateningly in the air. She heard Alex's sharp intake of breath and heard her words starting to form in her mouth and then Piper was pulling back, her back resting in the door behind her to get as much distance between them as she could and she was still staring at her hands and she was talking, blurting out senseless anything's because she was terrified of Alex's response.

"Well, former, I guess. Nearly seven months sober now." She said that last sentence in a chirpy tone, turning her face to offer a fake grin and in the split second their eyes met Piper saw nothing but disbelief in her face and a rising sense of panic overtook her as she thought about the last bit of her she could recognize in Alex's eyes fading away and never coming back. Maybe right next to Alex herself. She couldn't really blame her. She looked away, out the window now and choked out a bitter laugh. "Don't really know what that means yet. It never really feels like an accomplishment, you know? More like miserable sober living" She mumbled bitterly. "But yeah. That's what… That's what's been going on with me. It took me a lot of time to quit. It took me a lot to maintain it. And today—" Piper let out a breath, bit her lip, wrenched her hands nervously. "Today I almost fucked up everything. I was this close too. Made sure no one was aroundalthough I guess not really—, took the vodka out of the fridge, I fucking had it, I was going to, Alex." There was more anger in her voice than anything and she still wasn't sure if it was at how close she'd gotten to fucking up or… at how close she'd gotten to getting what she needed.

Alex hadn't moved throughout her whole speech and after a deafening moment of silence, she spoke. Her voice was husky, no longer a whisper but not rough either. Piper shivered when it reached her ears.

Maybe it was just wishful thinking but she could hear nothing but concern in her voice. She didn't dare look her way anyway.

"What happened?"

"My manager happened. He asked me what I was doing, I didn't hear him coming. I jumped; of course I fucking jumped, like a goddamn 7 year old. Dropped the bottle." She sighed again, moving her gaze from her hands to her feet. "Got my shoes all wet." She let that linger for a second, thinking about the vodka on the floor, in her hands, in her shoes and not in her mouth. She shook her head. "I kneeled down to pick up the broken glass and…" She put her left patched-up palm up, running a finger across it, following the cut underneath.

There was silence again and Piper's brain was getting darker and darker thinking about having to learn to live without Alex for a second time, thinking about blowing another chance with her without even managing to say a proper apology, without even actually having her so when Alex finally spoke Piper was already too afraid to stand it.

"Pipes" Piper spoke over her.

"No, listen, it's fine, Alex, I'm fine. I'm sorry about tonight, you really didn't sign up for this and I probably should have told you sooner but I'm really sorry for dragging you into this. You don't need it. I'm just I'll just go, okay?" She began reaching behind her back, searching for the door handle, eyes never lifting because she was sure that would be her downfall but then she felt her reaching out and suddenly her hands were on her shoulders, keeping her in place, pulling her in closer with a whisper.

"Pipes, shh, come here."

When her thumbs ran across her cheeks was when Piper realized there were tears running down her face and before she knew it, before she could even think of stopping herself, of depriving herself of this, she felt the pull of her arms and then she was crossing over the center console, sitting in Alex's lap, being cradled like a little kid with her face buried in her neck again. And although it was the second time today, this time it was real and open because her truth—at least part of it— was out and Alex was still here and maybe she wouldn't leave tonight whole but feeling her lips on her forehead again made her think that she hadn't been that in a long time now.

So Piper let herself be comforted and she cried for herself, for everything she was, everything she wanted to be and she cried for Alex, because she missed her, because she had her and ultimately, she cried for them, for that life she'd left behind and everything that was gone and that would never be again.

Alex held her like she was the most precious thing she'd ever had.

And Piper grabbed onto her like she'd never forgotten what it felt like to be loved by her.

"Don't worry, kid. I got you."