Author's Note: For once, I finally hit my word-count goal for a chapter! This is a bit longer than usual as a lot of stuff happens in this chapter (plus I really wanted to get this story to 100,000 words...even though on AO3 it'll only be 94,000 :( lol). I tried to make this a little more packed with some action, but this does focus a lot on Lorna's recovery after brain surgery. And, sorry, but the first half (maybe a little less) doesn't contain much Lorna/Nicky...but never fear, there's some fluffy goodness towards the end. Oh, darn, I just spoiled it. Thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites/follows - I appreciate that so much :)
Warnings: Mentioned drugs/thoughts of using drugs, Lorna and Nicky suffer without each other (temporarily for half a chapter), slight verbal bullying (slight = one sentence lol), minor verbal abuse/physical force.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lorna slowly starts to regain consciousness. Her eyes pop open to find that she's no longer in the prison anymore. Instead, she finds herself surrounded by a variety of different medical devices. A doctor hovers over her staring heavily into her eyes, once she realizes her patient is awake, "Welcome back, Miss Morello," she softly addresses the panicked brunette. "You've been heavily comatose for the past few days. How are you feeling?"
"Ni-Nicky—where, where's Nicky?" The brunette's voice quaveringly inquiries; her brown eyes gazing frantically up at her oncologist.
With a quiet sigh, she walks closer to her patient and begins a quick examination of her head and eyes. "I'm sorry, honey, but the prison wouldn't allow her to stay with you. Can you tell me how you're feeling? Does your head hurt?"
Shrugging her shoulders, Lorna continues to stare at the other. "Where am I? Why am I not in prison?"
"You're in the hospital—you need to undergo surgery to remove that tumor and soon, it appears to be getting worse. That's why you've passed out and were unconscious for days. I have you scheduled for tomorrow morning. I know it's scary, Lorna, but this is the only way for you to live."
"Nicky, come on," Tricia pleads, lightly shaking her from her sleep. "Ya gotta get up—don't wanna be late for electrical, do ya?" She tries her best to wake her but to no avail.
The redhead buries herself deeper under her blanket, not in the mood to get up and face the day. She can't face it—not when the woman she loves is suffering alone in the hospital…and she has no idea how she's doing. "Go away," she mumbles through her hair, pulling the blanket to cover up her face.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Tricia decides to get some reinforcement—realizing she's not going to be able to wake her bunk-mate up on her own—and heads down to Red's cube. She walks over to where she's sitting – on the chair behind her bed – tapping her lightly on the shoulder to avert her attention. "Hey, Red," she calls out, watching as the Russian woman sets aside her book and turns to face her.
"You need something, Trish?" Red carefully inquiries, arching her eyebrows in concern. She places her book back in its place on her rusty shelf.
The blonde slowly nods her head, gesturing for she to follow her. She takes her back to the cube she shares with Nicky and points over at the still refusing to wake up redhead lying in the messy bed across from hers. "Ya needa get her to wake up. She won't budge. And I gotta get down to electrical before Luschek gives me a shot—I'll just tell him she's sick," Tricia says before leaving for her work shift.
Red lets out a sigh as her eyes peer empathetically over at her daughter. Gently, she makes her way over to the bed and perches herself down beside her head—scooping it into her hands to place it comfortingly onto her lap. Her hand brushes lovingly through Nicky's bush of matted red hair. "I know you're worried for Lorna but you still need to wake up and face the day, my Nicky. Time doesn't just stop because you're hurting," her voice soothes.
"How can I fucking function when I have no damn clue how Lorna is—if she's even fucking alive!" She slams her first against the frame of the bed she sits on, her eyes dark with rage and fear for her girlfriend.
The Russian woman wraps her arms tight around her daughter, pulling her in for a comforting embrace. She presses a motherly kiss atop Nicky's head. It makes her heart ache deeply to see the redhead so distraught—she longs to have the power to make Lorna's cancer disappear so that the two of them can finally be happy together. "Getting angry isn't gonna help matters, Nicky. I'll try talking to Caputo and see if he can get an update on her—but you need to keep yourself calm," Red firmly tells her, running her hand soothingly through the other's red hair.
Franny sits beside her sister's bed, hours past the finishing of her operation, and uses her hand to continuously brush through her dark hair. Her eyes focus on a book that she holds with her other hand. A persistent tug on her arm immediately pulls her out of the story—she peers worriedly across at her sister, who seems to finally be awake. "How ya feelin', Lorn?" She softly asks, walking over to get a closer look.
The brunette looks up at her with a pained look in her eyes. She's never felt such a horrifying headache before. This is worse than anything she's ever experienced—it feels as though a knife is being injected on both sides of her head at once. "Mmmm—" Lorna quickly realizes that speaking is not going to work as a plausible way of communication. Her eyes widen in fear; she grips tightly onto the older woman's hand.
"Calm down, Lorn; it's okay," Franny hushes, cautiously wrapping her in a comforting embrace. She lets one of her hands trace softly along her sister's frightened face. "You just had major brain surgery, sweetheart; of course you're gonna need some time to regain your voice. How bad's the pain? Ya want me to get a nurse or anything?"
Lorna silently shakes her head, letting her eyes focus down on her legs—covered by the thin blanket. While staring at them, it suddenly dawns on her that she might not even be able to use them anymore. So, to test such theory, she decides to try and get herself out of the bed…failing miserably as neither leg budges; they lie on the mattress like dead-weight rocks.
Her face lifts back up to stare back at Franny. She points to her legs and over to the door. "Nnnn," she tries to voice her thoughts without any luck.
The older sister sighs. Her arms wrap gently around Lorna's head, pressing a soothing kiss to it. "I'm gonna go find ya a nurse—maybe see if one of em' can get the doctor. We need to know what's going on with you, Lornie," she kindly informs her, giving one last squeeze before she releases the embrace and walks towards the door. Franny turns to stare at her sister and gently adds, "I'll be quick. Just maybe try to rest, okay?"
"So, unfortunately, as I mentioned to you last week—removing the tumor did paralyze you from the waist down and your speech is not gonna be perfect for at least a few months. You can try therapy to help with your voice but I can't promise you that will work. You might also have emotional imbalances but those should subside within a year, maybe less. The positive side is you're going to live and you're cancer-free," Lorna's oncologist carefully says, standing at the end of her bed—looking her over with sympathy shining through her eyes.
Franny's eyebrows arch frantically. She grabs her sister's hand while staring firmly across the room towards the doctor. "She can barely say anything, now. How the hell is it gonna get better without any help?"
The doctor glances over at her patient's sister and sighs. "Right now, some of the speech problem is from just having a major operation on her brain—the most vital organ in one's entire body. It's going to take time for it to heal. We need to wait a few days before we make any assumptions on whether this is permanent or not. As for communicating with her, you can have her write down what she's feeling and what she might need. If it gets worse before I come back, let one of the nurses know and we'll have to get a scan done. Otherwise, just make sure she rests and keeps down sips of water. I'll be back in the morning," she informs them before leaving the room to continue her rounds for the night.
Shaking her head, Franny flips up her middle finger at the door. "She ain't very helpful," she mutters bitterly. The feeling of fingers lightly tapping her shoulder instantly turns the slight irritation into concern. Her eyes gaze worriedly into her sisters; she walks over to sit beside her, running her thumb tenderly across her forehead, "What's the matter, Lorn?"
Lorna lightly shakes her head and writes down something on a piece of paper she found lying on the moveable tray near the side of her bed. When she's finished, she holds it up and points profusely at the written word.
"Nicky," the older brunette reads aloud. She sighs, giving her sister a puzzled gaze. "I know you want to see her but they won't let her come here. Ya want me to go visit her and let her know how you're doing? That's the best I can do, love."
Nodding her head with a small amount of enthusiasm, Lorna holds out her arms for a much-needed embrace. The other immediately complies—coming over and wrapping her arms comfortingly around her shoulders. "Gggggg—"
Franny momentarily pulls away to stare firmly down at the younger woman. "What'd the doctor say about trying to talk? Keep quiet. I'll go visit her this weekend and tell her how ya are. And I'll make sure to tell her you said you love her—I know that's what you were trying to say. Right now, I think it's time you get some rest," she gently commands, laying her sister back down in her bed. She wraps the blanket around her and gives a soothing kiss to her forehead.
Nicky sits mindlessly in the rec-room—her eyes glued to the uninteresting show on the TV in front of her—when she hears her name over the loudspeaker. She's somewhat taken aback to find that she has a visitor but soon realizes it must be Franny. She briskly walks her way down to the visitation room, worry written all over her face. Her thoughts run a mile minute; she hopes this visit isn't to bring tragic news.
Sitting herself in the chair on the other side of the table—right across from the brunette—she tries to read her facial expression but can't make anything out. "How's Lorna? Is she okay? Is she alive?" She throws her questions out at once—too worried about her girlfriend to care if she's bombarding the woman across from her.
"She's recovering from having the tumor removed. Honestly, I'm not sure how she is right now," Franny gently answers, staring down at her hands. She lets out a sigh; the past few days have been almost too much for her sister—it makes her heart ache to see her suffer like this. "She's having a hard time talking…can't hardly say a word let alone express how she feels! And this idiot of a doctor wants us to just sit back and watch her lose her damn mind—it's fucked up. I don't know how the hell to help her. You're what she needs right now, Nicky, but why the hell would this shitty prison let you be there with her? Isn't it enough that you gave this greedy-money-hungry people the money to get her taken care of?"
Nicky shakes her head; rage slowly starts to boil within her but she does her best to push it aside. She looks gently across at the older woman, cautiously stroking a thumb over her knuckle when the CO isn't looking. "That's good that she's finally rid of the tumor. Poor baby. I hate that I can't fucking be there with her—I fucking promised her I would take care of her," her voice thick with anger; she scrapes her nails against the top of the table.
"It's not like that's your fault…you're kinda stuck here in prison. Lorna understands. She's the reason I'm here today, in fact. She wants to make sure you know she loves you and misses you."
The redhead feels her heart soar. She nods slowly. "Believe me, I know she does. And I love that precious girl right back—too much. It sucks being here without her. But I feel a little bit better knowing that she's still alive and doesn't have to be bothered with that tumor anymore. Please hug her and hold her for me. I'll be right here waitin' for her—however long that may be."
Hours drag on slowly. Nicky grunts out in irritation. She forces herself out of the rec-room and down to the cafeteria for dinner. After quickly making her way through the food-line, with only a minimal amount of food on her tray, she drags wretchedly on over to her table and sits down. She solemnly moves her fork around on the tray but doesn't feel the need to lift it towards her mouth.
"You okay?" A voice cautiously questions bringing the redhead to stare away from the food and over at Alex—who's blue eyes look at her with worry.
Nicky slightly shrugs, continuing to mess about with her meal. "I'm just fucking worried about Lorna," she exhales a solemn breath of air.
The black-haired woman momentarily fixes her gaze on the floor, not sure what to say. She feels nothing but empathy for her two friends—it seems all they've done is suffer these past several weeks. "How's she doin'?"
"Not too good from what her sister tells me," Nicky bitterly starts off, stabbing her fork roughly over the dried up meatball that sits on her tray. "The only positive side is that she doesn't have a brain tumor anymore…"
"The doctor said there would be permanent side effects—fucking bitch just had to be right—because now Lorna's fucking paralyzed and can't talk well. I fucking hate cancer—why the fuck did it have to come and make my baby lose two of her important abilities?! Why the fuck is life is so damn unfair to her? What the hell did that sweet woman do to deserve any of this shit?! Absolutely nothing! This is bullshit," Nicky growls, slamming her fists angrily against the table.
The rage—that she tried so desperately to keep in—comes pouring out of her and she doesn't bother to stop it. She's too infuriated to care about holding herself together anymore. She grabs the plastic knife and stabs it over and over on the food—not caring that it's making a mess. This is the only way she can get some of her rage out without breaking things or hurting anyone.
Alex tries to calm her down but Tricia—sitting beside her—shakes her head. "Let her be. Nothin' will help when she gets like this," the blonde informs her.
From her place in the kitchen, Red gets a glimpse of her daughter's outburst and immediately stops what she's doing to run over to her. She pulls her up from the table, gathers her what's left of her tray, and brings her out of the cafeteria. After the tray is thrown away, she takes a firm hold of one of Nicky's hands—taking her back to her cube. She sits Nicky down on the bed immediately—once they're in her bunk—and takes a good look at her.
"It's been a rough few days for you, yes?" Her voice unusually soft as she stares down at her daughter with deep empathy shining in her blue orbs. She feels her heart ache at the sight of tears welling up in Nicky's eyes—something she rarely sees happen. Instantly, her arms wrap protectively around her pulling her in for a soothing embrace.
She lies in the bed, holding her daughter tight in her arms. "It's okay, my sweet Nicky," she brushes a comforting kiss against her forehead, gazing sadly down into her eyes. "I know it's hard without Lorna—but she'll back when she's feeling better and until then, I'll take care of you. You can't be going around here getting angry; that's not gonna do you any good, sweetheart."
Nicky desperately clings to her mother—needing the comfort to help ease her pent up emotions. Her arms wrap around Red's shoulders as her lead nestle into the crook of her neck. "I love you, ma," she says with a faint sniffle.
"I love you too," Red strokes a hand delicately through her thick bush of hair and pulls the blanket up to cover them. Her lips press soothingly atop Nicky's head as she peers softly down at her, "Close your eyes, it's okay. You look like a little rest will benefit you."
On her way out of the electrical shop, the next afternoon, Nicky is stopped at the door by Officer Luschek. He motions for her to follow him to his desk and—once she does—he grabs a small baggie, dangling it in her face. She looks at it in horror. The one drug that's taken away her freedom is being thrown in her face. She shakes her head, trying to back away but he persists.
"Look, Nichols, I've seen how mopey you've been the last week and I figured this might cheer ya up some," his voice oddly genuine as he tries to hand her the bag of heroin. "Come on, take it. I done saved this specifically for you…don't be rude."
Nicky gulps. Her hands shakily reach for the beloved drug. She hates herself for so easily giving in but—with how disheveled her emotions are—she can't seem to help herself. Maybe a little snort of her beloved heroin might help take some of the sorrow she's experiencing away. "Gee, thanks—glad to know you think I'd slip so easily back into being a drug addict. What a shitty CO you are, Luschek," she mutters, rolling her eyes but places the tiny packet into her shirt pocket.
He flips her off. "Shut up, Nichols. Be glad I'm not one of them who actually does his job—you'd have a list of shots by now that warrant you a stay in the SHU. Now, get the fuck outta here and enjoy the complimentary heroin. I hope to see you in a better mood tomorrow!"
The redhead turns to leave, gripping one hand inside the pocket to make sure it's still there. She sighs. To use it or not is a thought that runs through her mind as she walks down the hall to the bathroom. She slowly enters and goes to sit in one of the stalls. Reaching into the pocket, she takes out the small bag of heroin and stares heavily at it—contemplating whether to do anything with it.
She's about to open it when she hears footsteps seeming to make their way past her stall—that she just now realizes she forgot to shut—and stopping in front of it. "What're ya doin' in there, Nicky? What's that in your hand?"
Nicky immediately throws the bag back in her pocket and stares slyly up at Alex. "I'm enjoying the solitary that this stall provides me with. What's what in my hand?" She questions, holding them out as if there was never anything in them to begin with.
"The bag you just were holding and looking at, Nicky. Don't play dumb—I watched you throw it back in your pocket. What's so bad about it that you have to hide it from other people?" The black-haired woman arches an eyebrow piqued in curiosity.
Letting out a groan, Nicky rolls her eyes and gives an annoyed glance at the other. "Why do ya like sticking your nose in other people's business, huh? What's it matter to you if I got some kinda bag sitting in my pocket or not?"
Alex gives a slight shrug of her shoulder, "I'm just tryin' to be a friend and help you out. But if you don't want it, that's fine too—I'll leave you to whatever you were about to do." She says, backing out of the stall and heading nearer the exit.
"Wait," Nicky huffs out a sigh. She gets up from the toilet, walking out of the stall and over to the taller woman. "I didn't mean to be so bitchy about it—I'm just not…I don't feel the same without Lorna here. She's like a piece a me now and I feel like a half-living person when she's gone. Yeah, I know, that doesn't make it right for me to be a bitch to you and everyone else. I'm sorry. You just—ya don't understand how hard it is to be ripped away from your soulmate. It's fucking hell, Alex."
Hearing that brings strong sympathy to the black-haired woman's eyes. She shakes her head and pulls her in for a friendly embrace, peering gently down into her brown orbs. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so defensive, especially when you're only acting out because of how much ya miss your girlfriend. I know—well, we all know—you've had a hellish past few days with her being stuck back in the hospital and I'm so sorry ya have to deal with that. Hopefully, she'll get better soon and be brought back here in a few weeks. The two a you been through hell lately," she mutters.
"Ain't that the fuckin' truth? But, believe me, my Lorna's had it a thousand times worse than me. I just want her to be healthy and safe and with me. And I fucking hope it's soon, too, because I don't know how much longer I can take being separated from her."
Two weeks past Lorna's tumor removal she finds herself being taken back to the prison. The hospital graciously provides her with a wheelchair and pain medication that is handed over to the CO on duty. She sits solemnly in the back seat of the van, staring down at her legs—the legs that provide no use to her anymore. Even her voice isn't providing her with much; she still can hardly talk—only able to stutter out a few words at a time. She exhales a deep breath and settles in for the somewhat long ride back to her temporary home. The only good thing is she'll be reunited with Nicky and that makes everything worth it.
Nicky's been sitting in her mother's bunk all morning waiting for her girlfriend's arrival. The sound of wheels rolling along the cold marble floor alerts the redhead that Lorna is here. Immediately, her head perks up and she lays eyes on that familiar brunette beauty. She feels her heart swell with warmth. She quickly jumps out of the chair and makes her way over to the wheelchair.
Her hands cup lovingly around the brunette's pale cheeks. A soft smile spreads across her face. "My Lorna," she tenderly whispers, kissing her delicately on the cheek. "It's been hell without you, babe. How are you? Are you okay? Are you in any pain, baby?"
Lorna reaches her hands up to place affectionately on either side of Nicky's cheeks. She strokes them with the palms of her hands and smiles faintly at her. "I-I-I mmmm-mm-miss-missed y-y-yo-you," her voice stutters out; she frowns in frustration. The speech still hasn't improved much for her, which worries her tremendously—she already has to live without mobility, there's no way she can live without talking too.
"Does it hurt you to talk? That sounds painful, baby," Nicky lovingly inquiries, gazing softly down into her orbs. She sighs, brushing a hand soothingly through her girlfriend's dark hair. "You sweet little thing—I missed ya too, kid. So fuckin' much. I'm just so glad you're alive and don't have to fucking deal with cancer anymore. Life has been nothing but unfair for you and that needs to stop."
She carefully gathers Lorna out of the wheelchair and into her arms, bringing her over to one of the beds. Once she has Lorna lying on the mattress, she gets in beside her and envelopes her arms protectively around her. A soft kiss she drops onto her forehead as she continues to gaze lovingly into her brown orbs.
Lorna moves her head closer to the taller woman's chest. Her eyes peer up into Nicky's, she lets a hand reach up to gently touch her face. "It-it-it-it d-d-d-does-doesn't hur-hur-hurt mmm-mmm-my th-th-thr-thro-throat. Gggg-giv-giv-give-gives mmm-mmm-me hhhh-he-head-headaches," she gives a strained response while caressing her girlfriend's chin with tender fingers.
"Poor baby…don't talk; I don't want you hurting yourself, kid. Just let me hold you and if anything, I'll do the talking," Nicky softly commands. She wraps her arms snugger around the shorter woman, placing a delicate kiss on the top of her head. "I love you so damn much, baby. I'll help ya through this; I promise."
Dinner time comes and with it brings Lorna a frustrating obstacle. She despises having to use the wheelchair, especially in the prison; the pitying looks she receives makes her feel shameful and disgusted with herself. She doesn't like being dependent on this device. It only adds to the weakness that emanates from her. She sighs, pushing the wheels forward to get her through the food-line; the stares continue but she tries her best to ignore them.
Nicky, who's already sat down at their table, sees Lorna in the line and quickly makes her way over to assist her. "Kid, lemme help ya," she pleads, coming up in front of her. She knows her girlfriend will do anything she can to not accept the help of other's but there's no way she can just sit back and do nothing for her.
The brunette sighs and tilts her head to where her hands sit above the wheels. "Ssss-see I-I-I-I d-d-d-do-do-don't need hhhh-hel-hel-help. I-I-I—th-th-th-they mmm-mmm-ma-mak-make th-th-th-thee-these u-u-use-useable ffff-ffff-for-for pppp-pppp-pa-par-para-paraly-paralyze-paralyzed pppp-pe-people l-l-li-li-like mmm-mmm-me."
"Sounds like you need help learning how to talk the right way, Morello," Boo's voice taunts from behind.
Nicky immediately clenches her hands into fists, turning to give a harsh glare towards Boo. "Shut the fuck up! Leave Lorna the fuck alone, Boo. It's not her fault she has a speech problem, ya fuckin' idiot," she angrily growls towards the older woman before focusing back on her girlfriend.
Her big brown eyes soften tremendously as they gaze into Lorna's. "How about I hold your tray for you? You can't hold it and wheel yourself at the same time, yeah kid?" The other's slow nod and defeated look in her eyes nearly cracks her heart in half. She doesn't want to make Lorna feel useless—something she certainly is not—but she also knows the brunette needs some amount of help.
She grabs the tray for her and follows behind her back to their table. Setting the tray in the spot beside her own, she gently scoops Lorna out of the wheelchair and places her in the seat next to hers. "You're gonna really tone your arms with all that pushing, ya know kid?"
Lorna faintly smiles at her girlfriend's comment before taking a small bite of food. She uses her free hand to grab hold of Nicky's, under the table, and gives it a loving squeeze.
Nicky smiles back while pressing a soft kiss to her head. "Sweet girl," she mutters so only the Italian woman hears her.
"Thank God you're back, Morello," Tricia says as she sits down in her usual spot on the other side of the table. She gives a sympathetic smile over to the brunette. "Nicky's been a pain without you. How ya feelin'?"
The redhead rolls her eyes at her prison sister while wrapping her arms tight—almost possessively—around Lorna's shoulders.
With a deep breath, Lorna forces herself to ignore the excruciating headache and answer the question. "C-c-co-co-coul-could b-b-be b-b-be-bet-better. Gggg-gl-gl-glad ttt-ttt-to b-b-be o-o-ou-ou-out of-of th-th-th-the hhhh-hhhh-ho-hos-hospit-hospital a-a-at l-l-lea-least," she finally gets the words out and breaths out a relieving breath of air. Talking is almost more work than it's worth, she sadly thinks.
"Looks like the surgery kinda messed with your voice, huh? I'm sorry ya gotta deal with that, Morello. Is that permanent?"
Lorna gives a small shrug, "Nnnn-no-no-not ssss-su-sure…th-th-the d-d-doc-doc-doctor ssss-s-sa-says it-it-it-it c-c-co-co-coul-could ttt-ttt-ta-ta-take mmm-mmm-mon-months u-u-un-un-until-until mmm-mmm-my v-v-vo-voi-voice c-c-co-com-comes ba-ba-ba-back…if-if-if it-it-it-it e-e-e-eve-eve-even c-c-co-com-comes ba-ba-ba-back."
The blonde looks at her with wide eyes and shakes her head. "Gee, that fuckin' sucks. I hope for your sake it ain't permanent. Sounds like it hurts every time ya talk," she infers.
Nicky nods in agreement, gently pulling the brunette against her. She drops a tender kiss to her forehead and gazes firmly down into her eyes. "You need to take a break from talkin', kid. Eat your food. No one will bother you with questions; you're cut off from talking for the rest of dinner," she lovingly commands, letting a finger gently brush through her hair.
"Maybe you should bring a notebook or somethin' with you to use as your way of talkin'? At least until ya able to talk without too much pain?" Tricia suggests, looking over at the two others.
"Good idea, Trish. I'm sure ma's got some in that pile a books sittin' on her shelf. She can borrow one a hers."
A few minutes later, Alex joins them with her own tray of food—taking the empty spot next to Lorna. She smiles at her, looking sympathetically into her eyes. "Good to see you're well enough to back here. How's it feel to be tumor-free?"
Lorna opens her mouth to say something but Nicky immediately stops her. She gives her a stern look and whispers, "What did I just say about talking? You need to rest your voice, babe." The brunette shakes her head in irritation and bows her head down on the table—her way of trying to communicate her displeasure with her girlfriend's choice.
The sight causes a bout of empathy to wash over Nicky; she loathes being the person who upsets Lorna but she's only doing what's best for her—at least she hopes it is. "Lorna, come on…don't be mad. You know I'm not doing this to hurt ya, sweetie—I'm doing this because I care and I see how much discomfort you're in when ya try to talk."
Exhaling a few breaths, Lorna lifts her head and stares back at her. She gives a small nod but still has a slight frown on her face.
Nicky pulls her back into her arms, running a hand through her hair as she turns her attention over to Alex—who seems deeply confused and concerned with what's going on.
"She might be a little worse off right now. The surgery paralyzed her—if ya can't already tell by the wheelchair—and she's got some major problems with talking hence why I'm answering or her. She's not coping too well at the moment," she informs the black-haired woman.
Alex looks down momentarily before gazing back up at Lorna. She silently sighs, feeling bad that she's has such distressing side effects to work through. "I'm sorry, Lorna. That's horrible that the surgery—that's supposed to help—actually made things worse for ya. You don't deserve that."
Early the next morning, Lorna wakes to find a CO standing over her. She squints her eyes in confusion, staring up at him with arched eyebrows. "W-w-w-wh-what a-a-are-are y-y-you d-d-d-do-doing?" Her words stammer out.
"It's time for your shower, inmate. I'm here to help you with that," Officer Dixon—the same person who threatened to throw her in the SHU for her anger outbursts—informs her as he grabs the wheelchair and brings it to the side of Lorna's bed.
The brunette instinctively tries to move away from his arms but, with half her body like dead-weight to her, her attempts are unhelpful. "I-I-I d-do-do-do-don't nnn-nnn-nee-need hhhh-hhhh-hel-help," she mutters desperately.
Hearing all the ruckus quickly awakens Red in the other bed. She opens her eyes and turns her head to see what the noise is about. Immediately, she gets out of bed and walks over to them. "What's going on here? What are you doing with her? She's fucking recovering from major surgery, why can't you just leave her to rest?" Her Russian accent thickened in the small anger that's bubbling up.
The CO forcefully grabs Lorna and—a tad too harshly for Red's liking—puts her in the wheelchair. He looks over at Red and rolls his eyes. "Why can't you just mind your own damn business, Reznikov? It's my job to see that this poor handicapped woman is showered at a reasonable hour. Why don't you go to your little knitting circle and not worry what I do?"
Red shakes her head furiously. "No, no, no. You're not helping her with the shower. Especially not after you nearly threw her into that chair—give her to me, I'll take care of her. All you've done is insult her and make her feel bad—I can't allow you to be alone in the bathroom with her," she grits her teeth, trying to take control of the wheelchair before he has the chance to leave with the vulnerable brunette.
"You got work to do, inmate. It's almost time for you to get breakfast ready—you ain't got time to help this one," he smirks, pushing her hands off the handles and wheeling Lorna out of there as quickly as he can.
Nicky's just finished making her bed when she feels someone tugging on the back of her shirt. She turns around and is faced with a frantic Red. Concerned, she wraps her in a gentle hug while peering worriedly into her blue eyes. "Ay, ma, what's the matter? Ya look like ya've seen a ghost or somethin'…you okay?" She carefully questions, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back.
"You need to go to the bathroom and keep an eye on Lorna. One of the COs took claims he's been assigned to help her get a shower…but the way he said is what's bothered me. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. Hurry and get down there, Nicky," Red pleads, unleashing the embrace and nudging her nearer the exit.
"Jesus Christ—what the fuck is wrong with people? The poor thing's just suffered through cancer for fuck sake," the redhead grumbles with an angry shake of the head. Instantly, she finds herself jogging through the dorms and down the hallway until she finally makes it into the restroom. She forces her way past the line of people waiting to get showers, and stops when she comes to a stall that Lorna's seemingly being forced into.
Shaking her head infuriatedly, Nicky glares at the officer. "What the fuck are ya doin' with her? Cause it sure doesn't look like you're just helping her shower…why the fuck are you undressed too? Oh hell no—fuckin' give her to me," she growls, horrified at the thought of what this CO might have been about to do to her girlfriend.
Officer Dixon rolls his eyes, digging his nails roughly into Lorna's bare skin. "What—you think I'm gonna let my clothes get wet while I help your little friend wash up?"
Nicky's eyes darken, she walks closer and firmly holds out her arms. "Give her to me. I'm not playing around—I don't want you touching her. You're fucking making her feel bad!" Her voice irritatingly cries out.
"I don't have to listen to you; I'm the officer here, idiot. All I'm doing is helping your handicapped lover here take her shower, don't get your panties in a knot."
Those words hyphen Nicky's anger. She slams her fist behind her against the wall. "Don't fucking call her handicapped, you insensitive moron. You're not getting in that shower with her. Over my dead body. Do you see how terrified she is? She doesn't want your help. All you're doing is scaring the hell outta that sweet woman! She thinks you're gonna fuckin' rape her and that's all thanks to another one a your nasty ass COs. Just fucking hand her over to me and I'll get her washed up. How hard is that?"
With a disgruntled groan, he places the sniffling brunette under his arm and brings her over to the infuriated redhead. He shoves her into Nicky's impatiently waiting arms and flips her the bird. "There, now shut the fuck up about it! Ya little drama queen," he yells out, before going to gather his clothes and redress himself—gaining him laughs from the other women standing in line.
Once he's gone, Nicky gently carries Lorna into the shower stall and sits on the small bench—trying to console her. She strokes a hand softly through her hair, peering down at her with warm eyes. "You're safe now, baby…I'm here. I've got you," she soothes, laying Lorna's bare body against her chest; one arm wraps possessively around her waist and the other around her head—keeping it as close to her as she can.
"Shh, you're okay. I won't let any of these officers touch you. They're a bunch assholes—how the hell can they try to hurt you, seeing how sweet and vulnerable you are? This place just gets shittier every day," she grumbles, shaking her head. With a sigh, she presses a delicate kiss onto Lorna's head and rocks her softly in her arms. "Don't shake so much, baby; you're safe, I promise. I'm here to take care of you; no one's hurting you anymore. Please calm down so I can help you shower. Come on, kid, take some deep breaths and relax."
Lorna clings tighter onto Nicky, wrapping her arms desperately around her neck. "Nnnn-Nnnn-Ni-Ni-Nick-Nicky," she sniffles, peering bewilderedly up into the other's big brown orbs.
Kissing her softly on the head, Nicky gazes softly down at her and pulls her closer. "What baby?" She caresses the palm of her hand tenderly against her girlfriend's tearful cheeks.
"I-I-I-I l-l-lo-lo-love y-y-y-yo-yo-you."
Nicky feels her heart melt. She holds Lorna tight against her, still lightly rocking her. Her hand traces affectionate circles around her back as she lovingly leans their foreheads together. "Aw, Lorna, I love you too. I love you more than anything in the world, doll. You ready to finish washing up? I'll be as gentle as you want me to be. You're safe with me, baby," she whispers softly against the other's lips.
Lorna sniffles but gives a small nod, grabbing hold of one of Nicky's hands.
"There's my strong Lorna," Nicky lightly smiles, giving one last protective embrace before she sits the petite brunette onto the bench and grabs the shampoo bottle. She gazes into her girlfriends and frowns somewhat at the shameful expression showing on her face. "You wanna shampoo your hair while I scrub the body-wash on your back and legs?"
The other's enthusiastic nod and tiny smile makes Nicky's whole body tingle with warmth. She hands her the shampoo and presses a loving kiss to her cheek while peering softly into her eyes. "You're such a sweetheart, Lorna. You'll get through this with flying colors—your precious optimism shines through the pain you suffer. I'm so glad to have you in my life; I love you so damn much, sweet doll."