D is for deceived
"She's not right," I whisper to Red, flickering my eyes up to meet hers, which look equally as concerned. "I know she's on something. I don't know what it is, but look at her, Red."
Red nods absently, though most of her attention is on Nicky and not what I'm saying. She hmms softly in agreement. "That fucking girl," Red says. There's no trace of venom in her voice. She just sounds tired, and I can understand why. "When will she learn?"
When she's dead. Those are the first words that spring to mind, and it's terrifying. I don't say anything because I know from the look on her face that Red is thinking the same thing. I shrug my shoulders which seems so careless, but I just don't know what to do anymore.
"I lost Tricia." Red states quietly. "That was awful enough. But Nicky?" She shakes her head, not caring that her hair falls out of place. Making no attempt to fix her hair, she looks me in the eye, and her stare is hard. "I won't lose Nicky." I open my mouth but before I say anything at all Red cuts me off. "No," she says, with another shake of her head. "Don't say anything, please." Red always seemed to defy her age, especially in prison. She never sat with the other older ladies, the Golden Girls. She was always so strong. But now she seemed to have aged ten years, and I know why. The reason is sitting across from us, trying desperately to cover whatever was wrong with a joke.
"You won't lose her," I say despite her protests. "She's not stupid." I glance over at Nicky, who sits with Chapman and Yoga Jones. She's laughing like everything's okay. Making jokes like she always does. I wonder if she did that with her mom; if she laughed off her concerns and did whatever she wanted to do regardless. Then I feel guilty, because her mom is standing in front of me. Nicky doesn't tell me much about Marka, but from what I've heard..well, it's her fault she's on drugs to begin with. I feel anger building in my chest. Nicky...she's not perfect. But who is? She's funny. She's beautiful. She's smart. She...loves me. I fight the tears that threaten to spill, wiping my eyes carefully. Why is it that everyone I care about hits self-destruct? Fight their way to get away from me? First Christopher. Now Nicky. Only Nicky's way out wouldn't let me break out of prison and lay in her bathtub. I'd be lying on her grave. The thought sends a shiver down my spine.
Red shakes her head again in a vehement argument. "I know," she says, her eyes crinkling. "But she's not very smart either, is she? Putting that shit in her body."
"I don't know what goes through her head," I admit. I scrape my hair back with my hands, watch her from across the room. I can't bear the thought of her not being here. Even though I push her away, I need her more than anything. Is it my fault? She thinks she's so unlovable. But I love her. I do.
I walk away from Red, though I can hear her calling my name. My heart pounds as I get closer to Nicky, and she smiles up at me. I force a smile back, hoping my lipstick emphasizes it and people focus on that rather than the fear in my eyes. From the quirk of Nicky's eyebrow, I can tell I'm not fooling anyone. Especially not her.
"Hey, Morello. Seen a ghost?" Nicky says almost instantly as I slide down next to her.
Not yet, I think weakly. I shake my head. "No. Just you," I say tiredly.
Nicky looks at me then glances at Chapman, who shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. "What?" Nicky says easily. "What the fuck are you talking about?" She's always been good at lying. So good that I almost believe that she's not on something.
Almost.
"Nicky…" My voice trails off as she glares at me. Her eyes blaze with a mixture of anger and fear. "Please. Let's talk about this somewhere else." I look around, gesturing to the busy room. "I'm worried."
"No," she whispers harshly. "Let's not." I look down at the table, blinking back the tears. I can see her demeanor changing as she shifts in her seat. In my peripheral vision, I see her scrape back her hair and look down at me. "Kid," she says, her voice desperate. She's struggling for words. I look up and see Red's eyes trained on us. Full of hope that she's wrong. Blind hope, because she knows she's not. "I'm a lost cause, okay?" She looks up to Red, throwing her hands in the air. "Sorry, Ma," she says, coming to a stand.
Red watches Nicky, her blue eyes swimming with tears. A lost cause. Her eyes follow Nicky out of the room and she moves swiftly into the kitchen, ignoring the stares she got from other inmates. I follow Nicky out into the hallway, watching her anxiously tug at the bottom of her shirt and bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Don't, okay?" Nicky says without turning around to face me. My cheeks burn red with embarrassment and frustration. "I don't need a lecture. I don't need you." She keeps walking until she reaches the bathroom, and I follow her.
The words stung, but I try to brush them off. She's never herself when she's on drugs. Always too much. Too brash. Too angry. Too fragile. "Well," I say, fighting tears and trying to find the right words, "I need you, alright? You don't get to be angry here, you're the one who's off the wagon again." I don't mean to sound so nasty. So bitter. But as usual, my mouth runs away with me. "We're all worried about you and you don't even care. You lied to me."
Finally, she turns, leaning against the sinks. "You don't get to be concerned!" Her stance is defensive, her fists balled up by her sides. She scoffs. "You're worried? What does it matter, anyway? I was always hopeless." She shrugs again. "I told you - a lost cause," she says dejectedly. The cigarette she somehow got a hold of rolls between her fingers, unlit.
"It matters to me." I walk to her. Reach for her hand that rests, shaking, on the side. She tugs it away with a frown, shaking her head. "So you're a lost cause? You're my lost cause."
She laughs. "This isn't West Side Story, Lorna. This is real life and real life doesn't have happy endings." She glares again and rolls her eyes. "And I don't need you ratting me out to Red. She's already pissed about the kitchen." I don't say anything, just watch her. "Listen," she says finally, after moments of silence. She pushes her hair back out of her eyes and faces me. "I only lied because I didn't want to hurt you. Okay?"
"Not really." I say. Sometimes life turns out perfectly. Like me and Vince. I know she's wrong about that. "You don't need to lie to me." I hesitate. "I'm not like Marka, or whoever else made you feel like you weren't worth it on the outside..." I watch how she reacts, but she doesn't. "If you're using again," I say, deliberately giving her the benefit of the doubt, "Then you can tell me. I want to help. I need you, Nicky."
Nicky sighs, her eyes rolling again. But this time it's through tiredness, not malice. She glances at me. "Stop needing hopeless things," she says tiredly. "It'll only end in tears."
"Yours or mine?" I ask. Nicky laughs hollowly. "You might be hopeless and a lost cause and you've got cold feet in bed but I'd rather have you than hope and I've always been good at finding things and I'd rather cold feet than a cold slab of marble with "Nicole" written on it, Nicky," I blurt out in a ramble. "I'd rather have you. Just you."
"Then you're a fucking masochist, Morello," she says, rubbing her temples. I laugh at her. Humor is her first line of defense, and I'm relieved that she's at least with it enough to make jokes.
"You've already said that you don't want to hurt me, Nichols." I reply. I take her hand, knocking the cigarette out of her hand and letting it drop to the floor that I really should have cleaned better.
"At least you're listening," she says with her eyes closed. "I'll try," she says at last. She opens her eyes. "I'll try. For you. And for Red," she adds, a guilty expression clouding her features. She bites her lip. "I'll probably fuck it up, but...well that's just me, isn't it?" She exhales through her nose.
"No," I say, holding her close to me. I pull her closer and rest my cheek against her soft hair. The scent of apples encompasses me and I run my fingers through the locks of hair. "You're just...human. Humans ruin things. But sometimes we find things worth fighting for."
"Oh yeah?" Nicky says, her head resting against my shoulder. "Like what?"
I smile at her, for once the one to reassure her. She looks up at me, her brown eyes wide. I wonder how anyone could look into those eyes and not fall in love. She might be a liar and a junkie, and she might be a lost cause...but whatever she is, she's mine. I laugh, shaking my head. "Like you!"
So here's D! Johanna-002 suggested this word and I loved it and hope I did it justice. :) Please suggest what you'd like to see next (AU too!) and tell me what you thought in a review.