Author's Note: This story is meant to feature two seasons worth of chapters in order for everyone to find out what happened to the inmates we didn't see in season six or seven. I always hated that we didn't get to see them, especially when a majority of them were my favorite characters. I hope you all enjoy my take on this, and I hope I get everyone's personality in check.
The lights in the bus were kaput. What made it worse was it was the dead of night. Their only source of light were the headlights on the front of the bus that only granted little sight for those who wanted the front seats. Their handcuffs rattled with every bump and turn, making it more ominous. Despite the exhilarating circumstances they just abandoned, the chatter was reduced to a minimum. Every few minutes you could hear a small whisper. And even then it was the same question muttered over and over again. Where the hell were they going?
They endured a terrifying ordeal that only progressed for a total of three days, but one would think this was just another transfer. Some feared they were heading down the hill where the crazies and murderers roamed more freely with shanks hidden underneath their shirts. But they were driving far too long for that to be remotely true. It's been about three hours since they entered the bus, so they had to be pretty far from camp by now.
Brook was in the middle of the bus, her head leaning on the window that gave her no view because of the pitch black darkness. She didn't seem to care how her head bumped continuously across the sharp metal. She was just numb. She didn't really care that the riot was over. She didn't even care if the next prison was worse than Litchfield. Brook just wanted to have her thoughts to herself. Her hips felt slightly sore from the amount of hands that grabbed at her to remove her from the prison. The guards had no trouble in manhandling her out of Poussey's memorial.
Her heart caught in her throat. There went her promise to herself. She wasn't supposed to think about her. Not now, anyway, with all these prisoners sitting around her. They'd criticize her, minimalizing her problems for their own selfish feelings. Not to mention she'd appear weak, and she sure as hell wasn't weak. Not anymore. She was pissed off. She was livid. She was - did someone just throw something at her?
For the first time since she boarded the bus, she took her head off the window and looked around. She couldn't see much other than the many heads bobbing in and out of her vision. Something hit her in the forehead, making her lightly grunt. Looking down to the seat beside her, she noticed a cigarette butt. How the hell did someone sneak a cigarette on a security bus? Unless it was a CO...
Another hit her in her hair, getting stuck.
"What the hell?" she hissed into the darkness, peeking her head around the outside of her seat, trying to see who was screwing with her.
"Soso! Hey, Soso!"
Brook squinted. "Who...Who is it?"
"It's Watson!"
Janae. Brook felt relieved. So much for not being weak. But she was technically pint sized compared to everyone; the only thing she could use to fight would be her words.
"Janae? I-Is it just you? Is Taystee with you? And Cindy?" Brook whispered, careful of the CO that was standing up front, meant to be keeping watch. The swaying of his body told her he was fast asleep. She wondered how someone could fall asleep while standing. That must be so uncomfortable.
"It's just Alison and me. Man...where the fuck they takin' us?"
"I don't know. Probably nowhere good," Brook said, feeling slightly better that Alison was also there. That meant she had at least two companions. She wasn't completely alone, even if she so deeply felt that way. "What happened to you guys? They got me...they got me at Poussey's memorial."
"We were one of the first. Motherfuckers tazed the shit outta us in the process," Alison's voice suddenly joined the conversation. It sounded like they were sitting next to each other. "We haven't seen anyone but you. Are you okay?"
"No," Brook admitted.
"Will y'all shut the fuck up! I'm trying to catch some Z's," someone suddenly snapped. It sounded strangely like Boo. Boo had made it to their bus, too.
"You shut the fuck up!" Janae snapped back.
"All of you shut the fuck up," a male voice snapped. It must be one of the guards. Brook forced herself not to retort. Wherever they were going, it couldn't be good. Despite the pleas for no extra time, she was sure they had to face some kind of repercussion for the riot. A guard was shot, and she knew for a fact over half the prison population resisted capture when they stormed the prison.
"Sir, sir! Please! You have to listen to me!" another voice cried out. The girl sounded like she had bawled her voice hoarse. But she couldn't recognize who the hell it was. Maybe Chapman? Nichols? "My name is Linda Ferguson. I am with the MCC! I don't belong here! Please, goddammit! I don't belong with these girls!"
"Boo, is there any way you can get your girlfriend to shut the hell up? It's bad enough we gotta ride with this place smellin' like ass and barbeque. Swearty barbecue, at that," Anita piped up.
"Ladies! I so kindly told you to shut the fuck up! Now the next one who decides to talk, they can arrive to the new place and spend time in the lovely SHU! I hear they love newcomers. They can never quite scrub the blood off the walls." the guard sneered. At once, the bus rendered into silence. Brook huffed angrily, slamming her head into the seat in front of her and closed her eyes as tightly as they would allow. This was annoyingly terrible. She wanted to know where they were going. She needed to know if she should talk to her lawyers.
Brook couldn't help but groan. The flyer smirked down at her from her mother's tight grip, her manicured nails piercing the thick material and destroying the face of the smiling boy upon it. She thought she'd be able to enjoy a nice brunch before she headed off for the petshop protest that was taking revenue off of the animal shelter's back, but her mother had other plans. She really should've just stayed in bed.
"I think you've forgotten I graduated high school and camp is generally for ages eleven to fourteen," Brook remarked, yelping as her mother flicked her across her ear for speaking out of order. Rubbing it to get the stinging to seize, she irritably continued, "What's so special about this one, anyway? You've put me through a lot of them. I think I've went to everyone possible except for those Christian camps that convince gay kids they've been lying to themselves all their lives."
"Couldn't bring myself to put you there since the counselor was a pedophilic douche," her mother scoffed, finally pushing the flyer toward her. "A coworker of mine was passing these around to the mothers. It's for ages eleven to nineteen. I would've asked your sister, too, but seeing as her last birthday was celebrated for the double twos..."
Brook shook her head. "I'm too preoccupied with my work."
"Brandishing signs and using vulgar language to convince people to follow your morals is not work," her mother cut her off quickly. "This camp is for rising prodigies. It specializes in the arts and mathematics. I've been doing some research and those who graduate tend to be the better half of society. In other words you don't become some cracked out whore that cries about a tree being cut down."
Brook bit her tongue. She didn't want to receive something worse than an ear flick for speaking against her.
"What about Dad? He said he wanted me to tour his college this summer before applications. This camp goes on for two months."
"Your father attended a community college and got an associate's for philosophy. If it wasn't for me, he'd probably be a gym teacher at the high school sneaking cigarettes in the boys' locker room and trying not to jack off just to feel something," her mother said, grabbing her coffee pot that finished brewing. She calmly poured it into her travel mug. "I'm not giving you a choice, Brook. This opportunity is too severe for you."
"You mean for you," Brook protested weakly. "I don't want to go."
Her mother stared at her for a long, long time. Finally she grabbed the flyer and crumpled it up aggressively before throwing it into the garbage. "Fine. This is the last time I try to do something right for you. Heaven forbid your mother prepare you for an actual future."
"Mom-"
"No, don't try to sugarcoat it. Brook, you have so much potential. You're just too lazy to reach it. You are just like your father. But I'm not going to bend over backwards for you. No, I expect more out of you. I expect someone who rises to a challenge and sets aside her own selfish desires in order to achieve something. All I'm asking is for you to take two months out of your precious time. But go ahead and tour that college. They don't even have a gym in the building." Grabbing her travel mug, she took a long sip before disappearing from the kitchen and snapping at one of the housekeepers to make sure the kitchen was spotless after Brook made such a mess of it for her brunch.
She emitted a sigh after she heard the front door slam shut. She couldn't stand it when her mother got like this. She constantly made her feel guilty when she wanted to think and do things for herself. Dad tried his best, truly, but he knew that the moneymaker was his high and mighty wife that made it alarmingly clear she was ashamed of her own husband. Now she was ashamed of her own daughter.
When she finished brunch, she quickly cleaned off her plate along with the counters and stove to make it easier on the housekeepers. She hated how her mother treated them. She paused by the garbage. The crumpled flyer was invading her vision, just like her mother wanted her to. She cursed at herself. She shouldn't have to feel obligated to do everything her mom wanted. This was getting ridiculous! It wasn't fair.
With a begrudged sigh, she took the crumpled flyer into her hands and quickly made her way to the staircase in order to get ready for the protest.
The bus slowed to a stop. Everyone jerked awake. The sun was peeking over the horizon, which meant they had driven all night, but they weren't anywhere near a prison. Instead, it almost looked to be an airport, but there weren't the vibrant activities of people rushing with luggage and families to get to their flight. It was just one plane and several guards waiting outside holding metal detectors and tasers to be safe against a group of women that were already handcuffed.
"We're leaving the state?" Gina asked incredulously.
"W-Wait! But...I need to call my mom! I need to let her know we're not gonna be in New York anymore!" Leanne quickly protested, jerking around in her restraints.
"Wait, but can't your mom, like, only travel by horse carriage?" Angie asked stupidly. "How long would that take her to get out of state?"
"As long as it'll take you to fix your goddamn teeth," Ouija insulted from her own seat. She was sitting beside Pidge. "Yo, we all got family in New York! You can't just uproot us without tellin' nobody!"
"Maybe you gals should've thought of that before takin' your first prison hostage. I gotta go get the registrar sheet from the big man, so wait here. Not like you could do anything else," the guard laughed crudely, knocking on the door for the bus driver to open it. When it did, he quickly hopped out.
"This is complete bullshit! These assholes can't even tell us where we're going?" Boo said loudly, slamming her shoulder into the wall of the bus.
"Yo, I can't ride on a plane. I get air sick!" Sankey said, sweat beginning to bead at her forehead. "I get all dizzy and shit and literal shit starts flyin' from my mouth!"
"I can't go anywhere! My superiors are going to wonder where I am! Who the hell do I have to talk to to get my ass out of here?" Linda cried out, her hair becoming more frizzy by the minute.
The women all collectively complained, excluding Norma, as the guard returned with a clipboard. He stepped back on and nodded to the driver. "Alright, man, you gotta give me some light here. They want these bitches in a specific order."
"Light doesn't work, man, sorry."
The guard cursed. "Fine, fine, alright. Um...ladies on my right, get up in a nice orderly fashion and wait outside by those nice men over there that are waiting to pat your fine asses down. Well...more or less fine asses. If I see any pushin' or shovin', you can kiss your ass goodbye. Let's move it!"
Brook looked over the seats, trying her best to find Janae and Alison in the dark.
Fortunately, they were the first to pass her. Janae gave her a calm nod while Alison gave a reassuring smile. One by one, the ladies on the right side of the bus made their way off, some of them even stumbling from the lack of voluntary movement. It was much cooler outside and much better illuminated. The plane looked a lot more intimidating from here.
"Yo...yo, yo, yo, I know that piece of shit ain't even got a first class," Maritza moaned, shivering from the lack of cold protection since she had fashioned herself a crop top during the riot.
"We're in handcuffs, I don't think they're going to upgrade any of us," Alison said sarcastically.
"Hey, you never know. If you look like me, you could get in anywhere," she smirked.
"Alright, ladies! Single file while we check to make sure no contraband or weapon sets foot on that plane! It should please you all to know that if we do find something, punishments will be handed out like candy!" a female guard barked, holding up a long metal detector.
As asked, the girls stood one in front of the other with Janae at the very front.
The other girls were beginning to step off the bus, all staring at the plane in bewilderment.
The guard stepped off, staring down at the clipboard in confusion as he walked over to one of the men. This man was nearly as tall as Piscatella was, but he was more lean than muscular. He was also very, very handsome.
"Hey, man...you sure this is the right sheet? There ain't even any real order. Alphabetically...inmate number..."
"We seated them based on their crimes so we don't get any altercations during the fight. Not that these girls are anything too hasty. The guys in Litchfield Max got all the best ones."
"What do you mean?"
"Those girls are the ones that played a bigger part in the riot. These bitches just held on for the ride," the man scoffed, glaring at the women.
"Right...right, okay."
"Yo, man, watch your fucking hands!" Janae suddenly shrieked as one of the guards patted her down. He seemed to be paying particular attention to her rear.
"I recommend not resisting sweetheart. We don't want any trouble. Just gotta make sure you ain't taking anything up the dirt pipe. By the feel of it," he squeezed tightly, "you're good."
"Motherfucker," Janae hissed quietly, visibly and physically disgusted.
"What was that?"
"Nothin'."
"Thought so. Go ahead and make way for the the nice guard that rode up with you. He'll tell you where your fine ass is gonna sit."
Janae glared heavily at him, her mouth stretched to a thin line. She staggered off toward the plane. The guard with the registrar sheet quickly moved to run past her in order to get everything in order.
The girls were all patted down and had the metal detector invade their bubble. The guard seemed to pay intense attention to girls like Martiza, Brook, Ouija, and Pidge. Soon, they were all waiting impatiently by the jetway.
"This is ridiculous. I asked those assholes at least ten times where we were goin'," Ouija complained. "They ain't tellin' us shit. Some of us got kids to think about."
"I'm not going to see my grandbabies for a long time. Their parents can't afford a plane ticket," Anita said sadly, her face directed toward the concrete.
"Is this all of us?" Yoga Jones asked, looking around. "I'm not seeing several people. Chapman...Vause...Red...Nicky... Are they separating all of us?"
"Yes," Maritza snapped. Her clothes were practically hanging off her from the patdown. "Flaca couldn't come with us... They ain't gonna keep us all together. Part of the punishment."
"Poor you. My baby's girl gonna be callin' some other buck toothed bitch mama," Sankey scoffed.
"I got a daughter, too!" Martiza shot back. "And she's probably already callin' some other bitch mama. We all got the same shit goin' around."
"Alright, alright, everyone calm the fuck down," the guard ordered, tapping his fingers along the clipboard. "When you get to me give me your name and I'll instruct where you go."
"Janae Watson."
"Row 9, Seat A."
"Alison Abdullah."
"Row 4, Seat C."
He went down the list, more and more girls passing him until he got to Linda who stood right in front of Boo.
"Sir, my name is Linda Ferguson. You're not going to find my name anywhere on that registrar because I'm not a prisoner! I'm telling you I'm a part of the MCC! I work in purchasing! I'm the reason Litchfield had such amazing qualit-"
"Yeah, her name is Amelia Von Barlow. She ain't gonna be on the list because she was brought in the day before shit went down." Boo said calmly.
"Von Barlow...alright, I'm gonna go ahead and put you in Row 9, Seat E."
"What? No!"
"Next!"
"You can't do this to me! You have no clue what I can do to your job! You're making a mistake!"
"I said...NEXT!" the guard furiously pushed her inside the door, Linda proceeding to fall onto her face with a sickening crack.
"My nose! I think he broke my nose!"
The guard inside simply pulled her up and pushed her down the lane. "Get to your seat, inmate."
"Carrie Black, and uh...there a chance I can use the shitter on this plane? Plannin' to drop some timber."
The guard looked disgusted. "Row 2, Seat B."
Boo saluted him and walked inside.
Soon enough, the plane was full of the inmates, all looking either confused or irritated. The guard with the clipboard nodded to the ones in the plane.
"They're all yours, chief."
"Alright, thank you," the man nodded before turning towards the women. "Alright, passengers, fasten your seatbelts! Your time at Litchfield is over! You took guards hostage, tortured them, even killed one! Fortunately for you lovely ladies, you've been chosen to take a nice trip to FDC Cleveland, which will be your home for the remainder of your sentences. Don't question me about family issues, rooming issues, or any issues. I'm just the delivery boy!"
He knocked on the door towards the front. It creaked open and he exchanged a few words with who the girls assumed was the pilot. When their short conversation finished, he turned back. "Looks like we're taking off! Time to kiss your asses sky high!"
"Oh, shit, man. Oh, shit, shit, shit," Sankey whined, pulling at her handcuffs. "Yo, this shit ain't cool. I can't do planes. For real."
With that, the plane took its sweet ass time to take off into the air and out of New York.