Chapter's title comes from "Cactus in the valley" by Lights
This is an angsty one, but better days are ahead...
Chapter 5: Wipe the mark of madness from my face
The rain is gone by the time they lose sight of Franky and the rest of the group.
Bea walks with a determined look on her face.
She stares at Allie's back and lets herself be lead through countless narrow streets and curved sidewalks. She isn't sure what prompted her to accept Allie's offer, but she's starting to regret it as they move farther and farther from the shelter. Allie is so damn high, and Bea has no proof that she knows where they're going.
She's fucking tired, but it's too late to go back.
Her mouth is dry, and her skin is so sensible that the mere brush of the wind feels like a dozen razor blades sliding against her arms. Her eyes are hard on Allie, whose pace is increasing by the second. Bea almost thinks that Allie is trying to run away from her, and she'll be damned if she lets her.
She's being dragged to an unknown destination in the middle of the night, and Allie doesn't even glance at her, just keep trusting that Bea follows her to the end of the world.
Bea shakes her head, more than irritated at the situation.
The fact that she just had alcohol isn't helping with her patience. They could be walking only a few meters away from their departure point, and Bea would still feel like she's running a marathon through the city.
She notices a slight change around her when the nicely built houses transform to rough wooden buildings, some of them abandoned, some of them letting light out through their broken windows. Bea shivers when she smells the strong scent of marijuana lingering in the air, as well as other peculiar chemical scents.
She thinks she might be sick when she notices a lone man sitting on the ground, a needle sticking out of his arm. When she notices his eyes are closed, she really hopes he's just sleeping. She doesn't see anyone else outside as Allie leads her toward some louder streets, where cars are passing by dozens of feminine silhouettes waving encouragingly at them.
"What the fuck are we doing here?" Bea groans as Allie stops at a certain distance from the others.
She hears a few women whistle as two others get inside a shiny black car with tainted windows. It's painfully obvious that they just scored a wealthy client, and Bea thinks she might throw up.
"This is where I used to work before I got regulars," Allie whispers, lost in her thoughts. "Half of the girls I know are gone now. I don't know what happened to them. They left in a stranger's car and I never saw them again."
Bea stares wordlessly at the shadows illuminated by the dimmed lights of the cars' headlights.
It looks like a dream and a nightmare at the same time.
"Would you have spoken to me if I'd been there and you were just walking by?"
Bea wants to say that she would have never walked by this district, and Allie reads her mind and nods knowingly.
"Not surprising. This isn't the best place to make friends. I'm sure you understand that competition is harsh here. You have to really make your voice heard. But for the record, if I'd seen you while I was working here, I would have definitely approached you. Not that it should be a compliment, but it is."
Allie starts walking again, and Bea stumbles behind, throwing a last quick glance at the prostitutes. She can't imagine Allie being part of that crowd, or maybe she just tries really hard not to let the images appear in her mind.
Then again, Bea thinks, no one is protected from the cruelness of life.
They wander in nameless streets for a few more minutes before Allie stops and lowers her head, pulling the hood over her head. Allie looks exactly the way she did when Bea first saw her, and Bea is momentarily brought back to that night, nearly a month ago.
It seems like forever ago.
"It's Marie."
Bea looks up at Allie's subtle nod with her head.
She points at a tall older woman wearing what looks like the most expensive clothes out here, way out of range for the other people surrounding her. She stands like royalty, and Bea almost believes that she is.
"Marie Winter," Allie whispers. "She preys on vulnerable girls and gives them drugs. They always come back for more. I know it because I was one. She got me food once and I- I thought I'd owe her for my whole life. She gave me a place to stay, before I found Kaz."
Maybe it's the way Allie's voice tremble that pushes Bea to ask another question, but she isn't sure. She only knows that when Marie vaguely turns her head toward them, Allie speeds away.
"What happened with her?"
Allie waits until they're far enough to answer. Her eyes are lost in a time Bea can't travel to.
"I felt something when I was with her. I thought it was love, but I was wrong. She's incapable of loving someone."
She sings a broken heart's tale and Bea aches at the melancholic melody.
"She was in love with her lifestyle," Allie adds. "With the drugs and the highs, and the many girls she could have. She tells everyone that they're special until the word loses its meaning."
Bea thinks that no one could ever compare to Allie.
No one could ever make her feel the way Allie does.
Soon enough, they find themselves facing the same restaurant that Bea spent the evening in, and Bea has no idea how they came back to this point. She's sure she would have recognized the streets, but Allie smiles like she knows a secret passage and Bea doesn't point it out.
"This is where I watched you with your friends," Allie says. Her smile disappears. "It's also where one of my regulars found me tonight. I told you I didn't have a client scheduled, and it's the truth. He just found me and decided he wanted some."
The restaurant is closed, and Bea easily spots the table she was at a few hours ago. She wouldn't have been able to see Allie, but Allie had a great view of the table.
"You stalked me," Bea teases.
"I did," Allie smirks. "But only for a moment, I swear. I'm harmless."
"Are you really?" Bea narrows her eyes.
Bea doesn't believe for a second that Allie is harmless.
Allie is a plane awaiting to crash on Bea's calm composure.
Allie is a nuclear bomb ready to wipe Bea's world as she knows it.
Allie is the catalyst Bea has been waiting for her whole life.
"I was about to come in when he found me," Allie continues. "I didn't have much choice but to follow him. Bastard's not my regular anymore, that's for sure."
It doesn't take long for Bea to understand what Allie means.
"He forced you?" Bea frowns.
Allie hums absently and points to the chair Bea sat on earlier.
"You looked beautiful. The other women didn't compare. If you look closely on the ground, maybe you'll find the pool of drool I accidently created."
Bea doesn't accept the poor attempt at a distraction.
"Allie."
Her voice is strong, and the way she says Allie's name hits the blonde's nerves like a bullet would.
"Come on," Allie waves gently.
She walks away, and Bea doesn't have a choice but to follow, again.
They don't go far this time. They walk by the shelter and Allie looks up to the door separating her from a real bed and a hot cup of tea. She doesn't waste any time and moves faster. They cross a few streets until Allie stops again. They're standing in-between two tall buildings.
They find themselves neatly squished in an alley where a cardboard sheet lies on the ground. It's small, just long enough for someone to lie on it, should they be desperate for a nap. It's bent, as if someone had recently slept on it, and there's a small blanket rolled in a corner.
The alley itself is small and dirty. There's no balcony above that could have protected it from the rain, but the brick walls on each side stretch high toward the sky, offering somewhat of a shelter against the elements.
Bea feels paralyzed.
It's one thing to know that Allie lives in a place like this, it's another thing to see it, to confirm that it's real.
"Welcome to my humble abode," Allie gestures dramatically like she's the main character of a television show. "It's not much, but it's where I live."
Allie sits on the cardboard sheet and motions for Bea to do the same.
Bea stares at her like a deer in headlights before she kneels slowly and sits next to Allie. The place is barely large enough for the two of them, and their shoulders connect instantly.
For a moment, they forget how to speak.
Bea wants to get up and brings Allie to Wentworth, and never allows her to stay here again. It's intimidating, the way the walls are preventing her from seeing her surroundings, and the way the cardboard barely blocks the hardness of the ground. She can't imagine spending one night here without wanting to hit her head repeatedly on the wall. She wouldn't even fall asleep.
Allie lets Bea looks around, not that there's anything to see. She lets Bea takes in the sight of the place she calls her five stars alley. She lets her come to term with the truth, slowly. She doesn't dare break the silence until she's certain that Bea's nervousness has tamed enough for her to be able to listen.
"This is where I came back after he raped me," Allie whispers. Her years in the streets have taught her never to hide the real words and their powerful meaning. "I sat here, I cut some lines and I just… took them all. It's been a few hours already, so I can feel the effect going away."
She remembers everything so clearly, despite the heavy dose she had. Her tolerance is through the roof. She needs much more than a normal dose to feel the effects of the drugs. It's always more money to spend, and it's always more time she needs to spend working and earning said money.
It drains her life continuously.
She remembers the way he had patted her shoulder gently, asking her politely if she could offer him some good time. She remembers saying no, apologizing even though she didn't have to, and telling him to come back another night.
She remembers the flash of anger in his eyes before he'd aggressively grabbed her arm and pointed to the table Bea was sitting at.
He'd told her he'd noticed her staring this specific group, and that he would go in there and disturb the evening unless she came with him. She'd walked into his car less a minute later, gritted teeth and clenched jaw, thinking that she could do it, for Bea.
She remembers the smell of tobacco and the speed at which the car raced through the streets in direction of the cheapest motel.
She remembers the way she had tried to ask for help at the hotel, but the owner obviously knew her client. He had done nothing, only handling them the key to the room without a drop of emotion on his face.
She remembers thinking that she could do it, after all, it was just another shift on the job. It was just another ordinary night, one that she'd lived a thousand times.
Except that tonight, she wanted to be anywhere else but here.
She remembers being pinned down by her client's sweaty body.
She remembers everything afterwards, but she wishes she could forget.
Forget everything.
Forget the sex, the drugs, the misery she seems to be trapped in.
Forget everything and everyone, but Bea.
"It's not the first time it happens. It's a common situation when you work in the streets," Allie murmurs, "but it never gets easier. What can I do about that? No one would ever take me seriously, and it's not like these assholes ever give their real names."
"How are you now?" Bea rages inside, thinking that if she had a gun, she'd go and shot this fucker in the head.
She'd go to jail, but he wouldn't hurt anyone else.
"Better. I've got a beautiful woman next to me and I'm high as a kite. Living the life!"
She keeps the tone light, but Bea refuses to encourage her. She directs the conversation on the real questions that occupy her mind.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Why not? I figured you'd have to come visit sooner than later. It's not as bad as it seems. It gets quite comfy once you get the blanket on."
"That can't be it."
She gets that Allie is probably using humor as a defense mechanism, but still, she wants answers.
"Okay, fine, a pillow would be helpful too. I'll add it to my shopping list next time I visit Ikea. You'll come with me, right? We can pretend to be that couple that fights about every little thing."
"We're not a couple," Bea sighs.
"We could be," Allie winks. "Just say the word."
"I'm serious, Allie. You could have waited until this morning, couldn't you?" Bea insists, knowing that she's that close to break through Allie's defenses. She'll insist until they break. "You could have told me all that in the park. You could have brought me here then, instead of barging like you did."
And when they break, Bea isn't ready for what's hiding behind.
For Allie's eyes to turn dark and empty, like life is nothing but a terrible, awful joke.
"No, I couldn't."
Empty, hopeless, lifeless.
"As soon as it was over, I came around and I waited until you were on your way back," Allie confesses. "I couldn't wait to see you because if I waited…"
She interrupts herself, unsure.
"What?"
"I'd be alone," Allie's voice shatters. "I'd be alone, and he knows where I am. He knows if he wants, he can come back and find me. I couldn't just afford to wait until sunrise this time. I didn't want to. No amount of drugs could change that."
"Why did you take them?" Bea pleads. "Why didn't you come straight to me? Come back to the restaurant and drag me out, or yell at me, or even show up at Wentworth, anything! Why did you go and take the drugs, when you knew exactly where I was and what I was doing?"
Allie looks at her with those big blue eyes and Bea says the next words before she can take them back.
"You said you couldn't wait? Bullshit! You waited just long enough to get high."
She's so incredibly mad that she can't think properly. She's craving justice when it is nowhere to be found and she's feeding on Allie's despair when she shouldn't, when she should stay the fuck away from it. She's shaken by the turn of events. It isn't how she imagined the rest of the evening would go.
She looks around, staring at the shitty conditions that Allie's lived in for years. She isn't sure where to direct her anger, and Allie is here, in front of her, and it just seems too easy to raise her voice at an innocent person than to go out and seek the guilty one.
She hates that she could have done something, anything, to prevent this from happening. She could have asked Allie to join them at the shelter. She could have insisted that Allie join them as soon as possible. She could have looked outside the stupid window.
She could have been there, and she hadn't.
She hates that she blames herself when there's only one person responsible.
She lowers her head and exhales loudly.
"He can come back?" she asks.
"He won't. I don't think so."
"Fuck," Bea swears, shaking her head. "What the fuck do we do if he does?"
"Look, I don't expect you to do anything," Allie exhales loudly. "I didn't want to be alone, that's the truth. If he comes back, you run and you don't look back. I can protect myself."
Bea looks at the blonde like she's gone mad.
"You don't look back," Allie repeats with a hard tone, sealing the words into Bea's heart. "You're the only person I know who wouldn't judge me. You can leave, I won't stop you."
Please don't fucking leave, Bea reads between the lines.
And she wants to stay.
She would stay for the rest of her life if that's what Allie needs from her.
"I'm sorry," Bea says as she licks her lips. "I didn't mean to snap."
"I'm sorry I threw all of this on you," Allie scoffs. "I'm not good at keeping friends, you can guess why."
"Don't say that," Bea smiles gently, sliding her fingers through Allie's. "I'm here, am I not? I'm not going anywhere. I'll protect you, no matter what."
Allie squeezes Bea's hand in return.
Time passes and the existing tension fades, but their hands never leave each other.
"You can't stay here forever," Bea breaks the silence.
Allie nods. She knows that too well, but even if she wants to move, she needs to get clean first. And if she wants to get clean, she needs to stop going to her dealer whenever a problem shows up. She needs to survive the withdrawal and the cravings. She needs to be stronger than her survival instinct, which is so messed up now that it only asks for more gear everyday.
"How is it? Living here?"
"It's not so bad," Allie speaks. "It's not cold at night. I can't imagine how it would be if I lived in Canada or something. And it doesn't rain often. And the blanket is a great pillow when I need one. I don't get woken up by people and I'm pretty free to do what I want during the day."
"Isn't it dangerous?"
"Not more than if I slept in a park or somewhere else."
She makes a point, but it still sounds horrifying to Bea.
"You're trapped in an open place," Bea says.
Allie looks at her with a puzzled look.
"Harry used to lock the door and keep the keys," Bea says, allowing herself to share a piece of her past with Allie. "I wasn't allowed to be outside unless he said so. I wanted so badly to leave, to run outside, but I couldn't. One time, he wouldn't even let me use the bathroom for a full day. He beat me when I peed in an empty cup."
"Shit."
Bea hesitates to say the next words.
"When I arrived at Wentworth, I'd just spent a full month inside the house. He'd given me the keys back about two days before I decided to leave. It's why I decided to go, partly. I was just exhausted. I couldn't do it anymore."
"Fuck," Allie shakes her head in disgust.
She doesn't know why every time Bea opens up and tells her something, she's surprised at the gravity of Harry's actions. She shouldn't be surprised. Domestic violence has no limits.
"And you, you could run, you could seek help, but you don't. You lock yourself in, in this alley that has no door to keep you prisoner."
Allie shrugs.
"It isn't easy to change things."
Bea nods. She knows that too well.
"I've been around for a while," Allie adds, trying to change the mood. "People recognize me. They know it's better to leave me alone, with my connections to the Red Right Hand and all. You know, there used to be a rumour about me and Kaz? Said that we murdered rapists. It's not true, but it's kept me protected for a while. It still does, most of the time."
Bea laughs at the idea. She still has trouble imagining Allie being in a fight, so thinking of her as a murderer sounds ridiculous. She thinks that if Allie were to ever kill someone, it'd have to be for a bloody good reason.
"Hey, don't laugh, I'm pretty intimidating when I want to," Allie says.
"Yeah, right." Bea grins. "I bet you're the scariest in the streets."
"Exactly!"
"How so?"
"I can rap. I even got a name now, thanks to you, DJ Allie Cat."
Bea laughs harder and looks at Allie like she just grew a second head. Allie pretends to be hurt, but the amusement in her eyes betrays her. Just like that, she feels the night slowly disappear.
"Don't think you'll intimidate anyone with that name," Bea suffocates at the hilarious name.
"You practically gave it to me."
"As a joke!"
"Don't judge till you hear me!"
Allie stands up and waits for Bea to do the same. When Bea stays where she is and looks up innocently, Allie groans and takes Bea's arms, effectively lifting her up. They briefly collide, but Bea's quick to take a step back. She leans against the wall and only a few centimeters separate the two women.
"You're stronger than you appear to be," Bea smirks.
"I'm a badass, Smith, you're just about to find out how much exactly."
Maybe it's the drugs or the fact that she wants Bea to only look at her, but Allie feels overly confident in her skills.
Bea raises her hands in submission and waits for Allie, whose face becomes serious.
Bea thinks for a second that Allie will start reciting poetry about the greatest problems of today's modern world, but instead, she gasps when the blonde starts to actually rap and rhyme.
"Motherfuckin' hoe, go with the flow, bitches be mean, 'cause I'm wearing green!" Allie dances, waving her arms around. She winks as she repeats Bea's words from their first meeting.
Granted, it isn't the best rap, but Bea is laughing until she's holding her stomach and she can't breathe anymore, and Allie shines at the sight.
"Are you fucking serious?" Bea croaks in-between two gulps of air. "You're never going to let me forget that, aren't you?"
"Never," Allie grins. "I'll be ninety years old and I'll still be reminding you about that moment you became colorblind."
"Think I'll still be around when you're ninety? Someone's confident."
"You better!" Allie lightly bumps Bea's shoulder. "Don't you dare leave me before I reach ninety. I swear I'll still be just as beautiful and charming when I'm all gray and wrinkled. And I'll bring you all the mushy food I can find."
The thought of Allie bringing her food when they're both old and full of wisdom makes Bea's smile brighter than the sun.
"I have no doubt about it," Bea rolls her eyes.
"Yeah, we'll just play bingo all day… and have lots of hot steamy sex," Allie adds.
"You wish!" Bea mocks, now mostly immune to Allie's bold advances.
"You bet I do! What? This isn't going anywhere," Allie wiggles her eyebrows and points suggestively at her body. "And this isn't either," she points at Bea's.
They bicker like the married couple they could be in another life for a few minutes, before they lean on opposite sides of the alley, stars in their eyes and joy in their chest.
The heaviness of the night is being chased away by their carefree laughs and the easiness of their conversations. Bea momentarily forgets where they are, where they stand and what brought her here.
Bea forgets that she's living at a shelter and that she's a survivor of domestic violence. She forgets that it's the middle of the night and that she could fall asleep within seconds of closing her eyes. She forgets that she's made new friends and that Franky is leaving tomorrow morning, and that she worries Maxine and Boomer might not stay for long after that. She forgets that she's confused about her feelings for Allie.
Right now, she considers Allie to be everything.
Absolutely everything.
A crazy idea flashes in her mind.
"Why don't you come with me? For the night. I'm sure I can convince Vera to let you stay if you're worried for your safety out here," Bea suggests. "I've got plenty of space to share."
Truth is, there's a small chance Vera would ever bend the rules for her, but Bea refuses to leave Allie alone after what happened earlier. She must try. She owes it to Allie. If something else happens to Allie, Bea will never forgive herself.
"You want me to spend the night over?" Allie bites her lower lip.
"I'm serious."
"Fine. But I don't think it works that way," Allie snickers, as her heart jumps in her chest. "I met Vera, I know what she's like. She knows what I'm like."
"I can try," Bea insists. "It beats staying here, right?"
Allie laughs. Of course, anything beats staying here. Being with Bea is a giant bonus she doesn't dare believe might happen.
But she won't give herself the luxury to feel hopeful when she's certain Vera won't even open the door to her.
"I'm high," she points out. "Kids are there."
Bea thinks for less than a minute before another thought crosses her mind. It's crazy, so unbelievably crazy that she fears Allie will never take her seriously, but it's also their only hope. It's their golden ticket to the end of the rainbow. It's the opportunity of a lifetime. It's the lightbulb moment Bea has been waiting for until now.
"Then it's your chance to get clean," Bea states, silently asking Allie to trust her, to come with her and to finally, finally get another shot at this merciless game they call life.
Allie doesn't hesitate.
"Lead the way," she mirrors Bea's words, once again.
Vera is not one to bend the rules.
Ever since she's started working here, she's seen women try to kill themselves, try to burn the shelter down and neglect their children until child protection services had to be called.
She's witnessed men try to break in, ex-husbands try to vandalize the house and strangers lurk around, trying to get a glimpse of the life inside the shelter.
She's seen babies cry for hours until they fell asleep from exhaustion, and children throw the loudest tantrums in every room of the house.
She's seen broken families rebuild themselves slowly, whereas others headed back to war as children turned against their mother.
She's seen it all, and she knows there is a reason why specific rules exist. If they didn't, harmony would not be possible at Wentworth. It would be a giant playground, with women trying to heal themselves while stepping on metaphorical bombs every two seconds. It would be a breeding program for future victims and future batterers.
People who think that working at a shelter for women is easy are so far off the truth that it baffles Vera that such individuals exist.
So when Bea Smith arrives in the middle of the night with a woman Vera recognizes as Allie Novak, she hesitates a long time before she opens the door. When she does, she immediately convokes both women in the office and listens to their extravagant stories.
She sits formally in front of them, a severe look in her face, as the concepts of right and wrong twirl in her head.
She tries hard to discern what the right thing to do is, fighting to identify where the rules start and where they end.
If she follows the rules, she'll kick Allie out right this minute, and then she'll have a quick meeting with Bea regarding this unforgivable offense, which is bringing a person under the influence of drugs to the shelter.
If she follows her instinct, her motherly instinct that tells her that she can make an exception for a woman who is clearly in need of help, then she risks facing a catastrophe as soon as Allie fully engages in the withdrawal process.
But then again, it sounds inhumane to ask Allie to go back outside, where she'll obviously have to face it all alone and might just keep pumping more of those illicit substances in her blood.
"Are you sure that there's nowhere else you can go?" Vera asks Allie for the third time.
Allie shakes her head negatively.
"And you say you fear for your life?"
Allie nods.
Vera sighs, slightly annoyed with this dilemma she has to solve.
"Allie Novak," Vera replies, standing up to reach a file from a drawer. "I remember you. We had to close your file much faster than we'd expect."
She quickly scans the file with her eyes, reading as much as she can in a few seconds.
"You came here for a couple of days. The phone assessment went great. We had great goals to work on. And then, we found you with a needle in your arm, in a common area. You were told that you couldn't ever come back here unless you were fully off the gear for at least three months. Do you remember that?"
Allie nods again, slightly embarrassed as Bea hears it all.
"And yet, here you are, and you're clearly still using," Vera points out. "I don't feel comfortable letting you in, knowing we have young children sleeping right now. I have no guarantee you can control yourself."
"I understand," Allie answers. "I won't leave Bea's room. I'll just go to the bathroom and that's all. I'll be gone tomorrow, I swear. I just don't want to stay outside tonight."
Vera's heard it all, and Allie's words are nothing new. In fact, it doesn't make her want to change her mind at all, because everyone has this sort of speech when they want to come in here.
"When do you think you'll start feeling the withdrawal effects?"
"Two hours? Three top. It doesn't take a long time for me to crave more, and my last hit was a few hours ago," Allie answers honestly. "But I've survived it before and I can do it again."
"I still don't have any guarantee that you won't go around, disturbing the house in your quest for more drugs," Vera answers.
She turns her gaze towards Bea.
She struggles to find the right solution. On one hand, she has to think of the safety of the women, and on the other hand, she might send one to her death if she kicks Allie out. And clearly, she can't call the police unless she wants to send Allie right into prison.
She feels trapped in a situation where all the options are just ridiculously ineffective. She's already crossed a line by opening the door in the first place.
She's not a big fan of this night so far.
"Bea, why?" Vera asks simply.
"Allie's my friend," Bea declares solemnly. "I'm not letting her out of my sight when she thinks someone's after her. If you want her to leave, I'll go with her too."
"I can't risk you leaving with her either," Vera says knowingly. "You know the rules, Bea, no sleepovers somewhere else. Unless you wish to leave the shelter tonight."
"And I'm asking you to ignore the rules for tonight. To make an exception, please," Bea pleads. "I haven't caused any trouble ever since I got here. I'm not about to start, not when I'm finally getting my life back."
Vera stares at her, still unsure. It's true that Bea hasn't caused any trouble, but Vera isn't about to hand her that opportunity on a silver plater.
"We all want the same thing here," Bea says. "For Allie to be clean and safe. We're not the enemy here, and you're not either."
It seems to convince Vera, and she gets up and walks to her desk, pulling out a small piece of paper from her notebook. She scribbles a few words, adds the date and comes back to the table.
"Allie must remain in Bea's room at all times, unless she goes to the bathroom, and if she does, Bea will accompany her until tomorrow morning. Allie must remain as quiet as she can, judging the circumstances, and she must leave tomorrow, right after breakfast. If I receive any complaint from any of the women during the night, she'll have to leave immediately. Am I clear?" Vera reads the written contract to the two women. "You sign this, both of you, and if there's any sign of trouble, Bea, we'll put an end to your stay and you'll be relocated somewhere else. Understood?"
"Thank you, Miss Benett," Bea exhales, relieved, as she signs her name quickly and passes the piece of paper to Allie.
"Got it," Allie grins widely as she exchanges a glance with Bea.
"Now off you go. Oh, and Allie," Vera stops her gently, "it's good to see you smile."
Franky is waiting at her bedroom door and Bea motions for Allie to wait aside until she speaks with the tattooed brunette.
She stands in front of Franky, unsure what to say or what to do. During the past weeks, Franky has been a lighthouse whenever Bea struggled to survive a storm. She's convinced Franky has been waiting at her door ever since she disappeared with Allie. It touches her, but it unsettles her too. She doesn't know how to react when someone cares.
"Everything alright, Red?" Franky asks, looking behind at Allie's figure.
Franky has her arms crossed protectively against her chest. She leans nonchalantly against the wall, but her eyes tell Bea that she's ready to attack at her signal.
"Shouldn't you be packing?"
"Got plenty of time," Franky chuckles. "What's happening?"
Bea sighs. She should have known she'd get questions.
"It's fine. You can go to your room, I'll take care of it."
"You just came back here with a stranger and you expect me to let it go?" Franky asks incredulously. "No way. Vera wouldn't let anyone in at this time, who's she?"
Franky frowns. She gazes at Allie, calculating whether the blonde is a friend or an enemy.
"Who's she?" she insists, taking a step closer to Allie.
"None of your business," Bea snaps, catching back Franky's attention. "Now go, wouldn't want to wake up everyone, would you?"
Franky opens her mouth in disbelief, a mocking look in her eyes.
"Someone's protective! Don't tell me, she's your secret lover?" She whispers in secrecy as her eyes twinkle even brighter. "You know the rules, no sex in here… Unless you're planning to become like me. Although, I would be flattered."
Allie scoffs. She might be standing a few meters away, she still hears Franky perfectly.
Bea groans and shakes her head, mildly shy, but mostly annoyed.
"I got this, Franky," Bea stares dead in Franky's eyes.
"I bet you do," Franky chirps.
"I appreciate you making sure I'm fine," Bea adds softly.
Franky nods silently, shrugging the seriousness of the words away.
"You know where my room is if you need anything," she replies, stepping away. "Oh, and Maxie's awake too. Scream and we'll come running. I mean it."
She glances behind her a few times, making sure she isn't leaving Bea to her death, and eventually enters her room, locking it behind her.
Bea waits until Franky disappears to open her door. Allie follows her quietly.
The room is dark, but the moonlight offers them enough light to see. Bea doesn't bother switching the lights on. She knows it would only make them squint their eyes. She tries to think of anything to say, but nothing seems to fit. She looks around, hoping there's nothing compromising, but then she realizes that it's not like she has much, and it's not like Allie doesn't already know her deepest secrets.
She sits on the bed and waits for Allie to join her. She doesn't know what to do anymore. She stares hesitantly at Allie as the blonde looks around the modest room. There isn't much that tells her this is Bea's room, except for the pictures.
Allie lets her gaze lingers on the pictures on the wall. It's the first time she sees what Debbie looks like, and she smiles at the similarities between her and Bea. She has no trouble picturing young Debbie running around, making a snails' hotel with the first cardboard box she finds.
She joins Bea and feels the mattress bounce as she sits more comfortably on the bed. She nearly moans at how perfect it all feels. She knows it isn't the best quality mattress on the market, but right now, it feels like she's sitting on a cloud. She can already imagine how perfect it will feel to fall asleep under the covers, snuggling up to Bea without having to worry about a thing.
She almost forgets what awaits her.
Almost.
Until Bea reminds her.
"You got one chance to this, Allie," Bea says gravely.
Allie knows she won't have time to enjoy the comfort of the mattress or her newfound proximity to Bea.
She'll be too busy puking her life out and cleansing her body from all the shit she's fed it.
She'll be too busy craving her precious paradisiac stash of white powder to think about anything else.
"It's not gonna be pretty," Allie warns.
It's going to be the ugliest shit you'll ever see, remains unspoken.
It's going to be freaking anarchy in your bedroom.
"I know."
Allie pleads Bea to really think this through. Whatever Bea thinks it'll be like, Allie knows it'll be ten times worse. And if she can spare Bea the torture of seeing her going mad, she'll gladly walk out in a second.
Bea stays immobile, her eyes conveying all the respect she has for Allie.
"I know," Bea repeats, asking Allie to trust her.
Allie does.
The next hour is the calm before the storm.
Allie tells Bea many anecdotes from her life. She laughs until her ribs hurt and she has to gasp for air. She tells Bea about her best childhood memories and her proudest moments. She tells Bea about the day she realized she was gay, and about her very first date with a girl she'd met at school. She tells Bea about the first time she was told I love you and the very first time she believed it. She tells her about the first time she said I love you and the first time she meant it.
She gives Bea all that she has, all the joyful moments of her life, all the times she was so incredibly grateful to be alive, because she needs Bea to hang on to them, to remind her of them when she can't remember them anymore. She needs Bea to keep them safe when she faces the worst.
If she doesn't survive this, she wants Bea to remember her as someone who had survived everything, as someone who is gloriously proud of who she is, and as someone who won't leave without a fight.
If she doesn't survive this, she wants Bea to remember her, because no one else will, and it terrifies Allie.
To be forgotten, just like that, within seconds. To fall into oblivion.
She doesn't want that. She'll fight until she has no energy left, and then she'll still crawl back to her happy place and fight some more. She won't go down unless it's the last option she has. She won't go until Bea believes that she has given absolutely everything she has, because she would rather be tortured forever than disappoint Bea.
Bea looks at her like she will never forget her.
Allie feels herself falling in love slowly. She wants to tell Bea, because what if she never has the opportunity again? What if she never gets the chance to tell her that Bea is the best thing that's ever happened to her?
When she finally thinks she's ready to tell Bea how much she cares about her, she can't open her mouth without feeling like she might throw up.
She doesn't tell her, not yet.
When the withdrawal comes, Allie is torn apart by its violence.
"I'm scared," she whispers when her mind isn't all that gone yet.
She's terrified.
What if Bea leaves?
What if Bea can't handle her at her worse?
"It's okay."
Bea stares at her like she cares for her more than ever, like she's going to fight for Allie when Allie can't anymore.
Allie smiles like she believes it.
She gets up quickly and starts pacing around the room, feeling the walls coming at her, wanting to squish her like the small insect she thinks she is. She screams when she thinks she sees the roof falling over her head and Bea rushes to her side, trying to calm her with soothing words Allie can't recognize as panic overcomes her.
She pulls at her hair, trying desperately to mute the voices in her head, but only ends up yelling more. She kicks the walls and punches the mattress, and throws everything she can find on the ground. She snatches a picture of Debbie from the wall and tears it in tiny pieces. She hears Bea calling her name, but she's too far gone to care. She wants to get out of this damn room so badly that she launches herself at the door.
She wants the fucking drugs and she wants them now.
At this point, if she had been outside, she would have gotten the drugs. She would have taken them. She would have found solace in her unperfect paradise and not given a fuck about the rest of the world.
She would have forgotten about Bea and this supposedly only chance at getting better.
But she's not outside, and Bea cannot be forgotten.
She tries to reach for the door, but Bea stops her, and Allie's rage explodes like a volcano that has been waiting to erupt for too long. She pushes Bea away and slams her hands against the door, her eyes filled with a depth of anger and despair that she's never known before. Bea comes from behind and strong arms hold her as she cries silently.
She accidently kicks Bea in the stomach when she's at the high of her withdrawal and she can't control anything anymore.
Bea winces in pain, and Allie hates herself even more.
She tears her shirt open when she feels so hot that she might pass out from the invisible heat. She scratches her skin until she bleeds, and she doesn't stop until Bea's gentle arms embrace her again and prevent her from destroying herself.
She thinks that she could die in Bea's arms, and despite how sick she is, she feels that it would be the best way to leave this world.
No matter how furious she is, no matter how intense the cravings are, she never insults Bea. The thought doesn't even cross her mind. She spits profanities at everything, but she spares Bea, because even in madness, she cares about Bea deeply.
She finally gets out of the room and she races to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her, not giving a fuck about whether Vera or anyone else hears her. She is followed by Bea, who tiptoes by her side and holds her hair as her body rejects itself and pours bile down the toilet. She feels better when her stomach's empty, but the nausea prevents her from standing up, and Bea delicately carries her back to the room.
She curls in a ball on the floor, and she places her head in her hands, tears still escaping her red and swollen eyes. She cries for what feels like an hour as Bea gently rocks her back and forth. She thinks that even Kaz would have left by now, and she sobs harder when she realizes Bea isn't going anywhere.
She doesn't even know why she's crying anymore. She just wants the room to stop spinning, the floor to stop shaking and the world to stop passing her by while she just stands, immobile and choking on her demons.
She is war.
She is peace.
She is beauty, and chaos, and redemption all at once.
She's exhausted and her body is aching painfully whenever she takes a deep breath. She barely has the strength to move and she doesn't resist when Bea drags her to bed and covers her with a soft blanket. She feels her soul momentarily leaves her body as she zones in and out of consciousness. Every time she opens her eyes, she sees Bea staring back at her with worried eyes, and it makes her heart skips a beat.
Bea looks at her like she's still beautiful, and Allie thinks she might be dreaming already.
She's about to fall asleep when she feels the bed shifting. She opens her eyes and sees Bea lying next to her. She feels a trillion needles poking at her brain. The pain is unbearable, and she moans as it gets worse. Her mouth tastes disgusting, and she's convinced she stinks like death, but when she opens her mouth to whisper, Bea still comes closer to hear every word she says.
"Why do you do this?" Allie pants as exhaustion takes her over.
Bea smiles gently, sliding under the covers to embrace Allie from behind. She could pass out from exhaustion, but she's fighting sleep in case Allie needs anything. It's been a long night, but she doesn't regret a single second of it. She'd do it all again in a heartbeat. She waits a minute before she feels Allie's breath grow deeper and even.
"I care about you," Bea murmurs quietly.
Allie doesn't respond, and Bea isn't sure if she even heard her.
When Allie wakes up the next morning, she opens her eyes to see Bea peacefully sleeping next to her. She clears her throat and tries to speak, but no sound comes from her sensitive throat and she ends up staring at Bea for a long time.
Her mind is running with everything she should tell Bea, every way she needs to apologize for trashing her room and pushing her away last night. She doesn't know how much time passes, but by the time she finally lets herself relax again, the sun is peeking brightly through the window.
She feels terrible, and the headache still haunts her, but she knows she's sober, at last. Whatever dose she had last night is gone, probably flushed away in the toilet. The hardest part is over. Now, she only needs to resist the urge to get high again. She can do it, she repeats in her head like a mantra.
She curses at herself when she notices the torn picture on the floor. She freaks out quietly, convinced Bea would never forgive her. What she feels like the last functioning brain cell she has tells her that Bea is lying next to her and isn't away, plotting her demise.
She needs to pee, and she tries to resist leaving the warmth of the bed, but she can't wait. She slips out of the bed, but she is stopped when Bea adorably pats the empty space beside her.
"Go back to sleep, beautiful girl," Bea mutters, her eyes still closed.
Allie grins so wide that she wonders if she's in heaven.
"I'm beautiful, eh?"
Bea hums absently as she drifts off again, and Allie chuckles quietly, exiting the bedroom. She can't wait to repeat those words to Bea when they're both awake. The hallway is empty as she makes her way to the bathroom and she sighs in relief.
On her way back, it's the opposite. She meets many people she doesn't know, and she recognizes the woman who was at Bea's door last night. She wants to run back to Bea's bedroom, but she's stopped just as she is about to enter the room.
"Oi, Blondie," Franky calls. "Wait up!"
Franky jogs to her. She has a suitcase in her hand and Boomer is following her.
"It sounded like the freaking exorcist in Bea's room last night. I'm surprised you're still here," Boomer says, an accusing look in her eyes. "Couldn't sleep all night."
"Yeah, Booms is right. It didn't sound like anything sexy was going on there. How you feeling?" Franky asks.
Allie doesn't say anything, not wanting to make conversation when a place next to Bea awaits her in bed.
Franky places her arm in front of Allie, blocking her access from Bea's room.
"I asked you a question."
"And I don't want to answer it," Allie shrugs, not the least bothered by Franky's attempt to intimidate her.
Franky smirks and exchanges a look with Boomer, who only looks confused.
"Feisty, aren't we? I'm Bea's friend. I'm just making sure she's still alive in there."
"She is," Allie deadpans.
"Are you sure you didn't kill her last night?" Boomer growls.
Allie sighs, unimpressed.
"You understand I'm just looking out for Red, right?"
"Franky, come on!" Bridget calls from the other end of the hallway. "You've got ten minutes to sign the papers and then you're out of here for good."
Franky keeps her eyes locked on Allie's. She thinks of her next move. She could insist and open the door to check if Bea's still breathing, or she could let go and join Bridget, and hope that Boomer takes over the job of the overly protective friend when she's gone.
"You hurt her, you got me to deal with," Franky warns.
Allie laughs, fearless.
"Righto," she shrugs.
Franky is two seconds away from shooting back an answer when Bridget calls her again.
"Coming, Gidget," Franky singsongs as she smiles innocently and skips away.
She leaves, and Boomer follows her, not without sending a threatening look at Allie before.
Allie shakes her head, her brain pounding in her skull, and she walks back in Bea's room.
She isn't sure whether to feel relieved that Bea has such caring friends, or afraid, but she figures nothing can scare her now that she's gone through the most painful withdrawal of her life. She picks up the pieces of the photo and places them neatly on the desk. She silently swears to fix it as soon as she's out of here. There's no way she'll leave it this way.
She takes back her place under the covers and faces Bea. The other woman is still sleeping calmly, and Allie feels her heart melt at the sight.
"I'm alive," she whispers with incredulity in her voice.
She's alive and Bea is still here.
Thanks for reading!