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[day ninety-one]
They never talked about a future of any kind during those heady days of high-priced drug deals and all-night fucking. Back then, they were moving from pillar to post at the speed of light; they were rushing headlong towards the next sweet destination, towards that next lust-filled high.
There is no such thing as a future when you are young and wealthy and in love.
But after her brief and depressing turn back in the outside world, Alex finds her thoughts drifting towards the future more and more these days – and there isn't much there to cheer about. All the money that she once had was seized, tainted with the illegal ways in which she earned it, and with her arrest went the lovely apartment, the lovely clothes, and all the lovely bits and baubles she had collected over the years.
Yeah, it might have been born of breaking the law, but Alex lost her good life, too.
And then, of course, there is Piper.
Alex does her best to not think about the fact that Piper's days in this place are dwindling further and further down while her own time in Litchfield stretches out before her like an endless fucking ocean.
Instead, Alex chooses to lose herself in their delicious return to form - Piper's fingernails digging into her shoulder, Piper's hips rocking unevenly with so much want, Piper's orgasms sliding hotly onto her tongue - and, for a moment, all those pesky fears and all those deep-seated doubts and all those questions that she is so damn afraid to get the answers to...
For a moment, everything except the two of them seems to flutter away in a haze of stolen pleasure, disappearing within the heat and familiarity of their touches.
Still, once they come back down to earth and Piper is kissing her cheek before rushing off to another mindless day of barely-there electrical repair, once Alex is back on the solid ground of being in prison then all those doubts and fears and questions flood right back into her mind.
Because maybe they didn't talk about the future way back when, back when Piper was more inclined to overlook the bad deeds being done and back when Alex might have had the means to build a life beyond the drug trade, but they have talked about it since, haven't they?
A tiny little conversation about how shitty they both are, about Piper's need for a plan and how Alex doesn't have one, about Cambodia and free-falling; a tiny little conversation that just scraped the surface of all that they ache for, a teaser of what could come if they were willing – hands intertwined and a whole lot of open air beneath their feet...
Yeah, they talked about the future once, but Piper chose Larry and that was end of all their conversations.
Or it should have been. Or it was, for a while, until the trial in Chicago rolled around, until she saw Piper's face again - as lost and as lovely as ever - until she heard Piper yelling at her ("Fuck you, Alex... Fuck you!") and suddenly the only thing that mattered to Alex was talking to Piper again, suddenly all that mattered was Piper – even after everything that had happened – it was Piper all over again, always and for-fucking-ever.
It'll always be Piper, won't it?
And Alex watches as Piper enters the room, an affectionate smile gracing those pale pink lips, and her damn heart almost skips a beat, as if the motions of this organ are tied irrevocably to the shifting of Piper's mouth... and then there they are again, those thoughts about the future, those thoughts about losing Piper once more, of being stuck here – an ex-con still trapped behind bars – while Piper slowly but surely moves on with her life, her life without Alex really in it.
Fears.
It'll always be you, Piper, and I am going to have to watch you walk away again, I'm going to have to let you go again...
Doubts.
...You won't need me out there, you'll forget to write and you'll forget to call, you'll realize that you can leave me behind for good this time...
Questions.
...What if we just fuck it up all over again? What if this love of ours isn't enough to keep us together?
And Alex watches as Piper slides a bit closer, hand reaching out until it finds what it wants, and the dialogue of this movie turns into gibberish within Alex's ear, drowned out by the sensation of Piper's skin against her own – fingertips grazing the lines of Alex's palm, all smooth and soft patterns, the kind that only they can see, the kind that only they can feel...
...and there it is, resting upon every path that Piper has created, there's the future that Alex is so desperate to have and yet so terrified to truly believe in.
/ /
[day ninety-three]
It's still there, simmering along the edges her bones – sleek and oh so insidious – it's still there, that white hot anger, but Piper does her best to keep it all in check. She focuses on the words of this book, she listens to whatever story Nicky is telling around this table, she inspects the wires of this busted socket with far more attention than it is worth, and she sinks into each and every sigh that Alex is able to pull from her lips.
Piper does her best, but this rage is so very patient and all it needs is an opening; all it needs is a harsh comment from a CO or a challenging look from another inmate, all it needs is another disappointing visit with her mother or a reminder that she no longer has a best friend, all it needs is this place, this fucking prison with its dirty corruption and its endless punishments...
...and suddenly that door, the one that keeps Piper sane and safe, is blown off its hinges.
Someone knocks into her, a random and accidental thing, and Piper knows that it is not personal, Piper knows that this is just a thing that can happen when a person isn't looking – eyes down on the floor, thoughts miles and miles away – Piper knows all of this but it doesn't matter, not today, not when she is so eager to snap.
It's like second-nature now, the way she turns around and grabs a fistful of this woman's hair, the way she uses her whole body to propel this woman's shocked and yelling face into the wall; it's like breathing now, the way her muscles react without hesitation and the way her rambling brain shuts down, everything automatic and simple and so fucking easy...
Piper tightens her grip, all of her nerve-endings singing with this terrible release, and she catches a glimpse of blood - a tiny swatch of red against these off-white surroundings – right before the guards pull her back and slam her to the floor.
Of course, that's when the thrill of losing her temper starts to fade and that's when Piper realizes that she has fucked herself over – again – and she is falling apart somewhere deep inside, hidden away from the wary stares of inmates and CO's alike, falling apart until she is left in pieces, and the last face she sees as she is hauled away to solitary is Alex's...
...no, not there, not really, but there in Piper's mind, that's where Alex is – shaking her beautiful head, dismayed once more over another one of Piper's messes – and Piper wants to say that she is sorry, sorry for that phone-call she asked Polly to make, sorry that she didn't stick around for the sake of a dead mother, sorry that she ever said that she'd carry that bag onto that plane...
Piper is so sorry, so fucking sorry for so many things, and the last of her resolve melts away as the door shuts behind her back, as the sounds of screaming women – all lost, all wounded, all going mad – creates the worst kind of symphony within this concrete box, and that's when Piper starts to cry.
No, not like before, not out of newly found terror or little girl fright, but from somewhere primal comes this sorrow, tearing its way up from her stomach and through her lungs, and these chest-heaving sobs wet the flat gray stone beneath her shaking hands, tears clouding her eyes and staining her cheeks.
"I'm sorry...," and the words cut like glass, sharp and painful as they leave her tongue, "...I am so sorry..."
That's for Alex.
That's for her grandmother.
That's for her parents and her brothers.
That's for Larry and the life they might have had.
That's for being stupid and naïve and vengeful and a liar.
"...so fucking sorry..."
And that's for herself.
That's for the girl she mislead and mistreated all those years ago, the girl that she kept silent as a father continued cheating and as a mother drank away the truth.
That's for the woman she has found behind these bars – furious and flailing, a tangled web of childish wants and cold awareness, a wreckage that lives and breathes and litters the shore of anyone who meets her.
That's for all of it, and Piper weeps until nothing remains, that's for everything.
/ /
(tbc)