F is for face

"How do you do it?" Stella asked Nicky, sitting down next to her. Nicky didn't turn to face her, nor did she give any indication that she had even heard her. Finally, after rolling her eyes tiredly, Nicky shrugged.

"Do what?" She rubbed her eyes tiredly, already done with this conversation.

"Survive this."

If there was anything that Nicky memorized in this life, it was the faces of those she loved. She could recall every line, every freckle and every single feature. It was the only thing that got her through the hell called 'max'.

Sometimes she'd remember Red's face. Those blue eyes, sparkling in the light. The hair, of course - flicking out in every direction and being thrown back as she laughed. Smirking lips. A smile that lit up the room. Eyebrows that would raise oh so slightly as she asked a question that - frustratingly - she already knew the answer to.

Mostly, though, she'd think of Lorna's. Big brown doe eyes that implored you to do whatever she wanted. Plump red lips, leaving tracks wherever she kissed. Worries that appeared as a creased forehead. A nose that wrinkled in disbelief or distaste. Brunette locks that tangled and tickled...oh how she missed that face. And her body. And even the stupid things that sometimes came out of her mouth.

Yes, as she stared at the dirty ceiling in bed, those were the only things that kept her going. That kept her sober. Of course, until they didn't. Until not even their faces, that were beginning to become fuzzy at the edges, could keep her away from wanting to forget it all.

When that happened, she would think about what she'd say to her, if she found out. Praying that somehow she would, and thanking god that she hadn't yet.

It would be the angry, harsh words first. It pained her to think that she knew because she had been through it before too many times before. Maybe Marka was right - maybe she'd 'only learn when you're dead'. "You're smacked out of your gourd. What the fuck, Nichols?"

Then would come the concern. The flicker of Lorna's eyes when her own eyes were rolling back into her head. "Come on, Nicky...I'm worried about you. You don't need 'em."

Finally, it would be pleading. "Please!" Shrieking voices at a loss of what to do for the best, raw emotion and hurt evident in every waking moment that they spent with you. "I'll do anything if you just give that shit up!"

And she'd say yes and agree through it all as long as she could get her next fix. But lying to Lorna and Red wasn't like lying to Marka. Her brown eyes filled with unspoken hope and she clasped her close, whispering how proud she was. It was ten times harder yet she still managed. What kind of a person did that make her?

Nicky shrugged once again, letting her head loll on the wall behind them both. "How the fuck should I know?"

Lorna breathed out shakily as she tried to hold the yoga pose. Yoga Jones encouraged her from the front of the room. "Soft eyes, Morello! Hold that, perfect." She turned to the rest of the class. "I hope these classes help you get through tough times. I know they help me."

Tough times! Lorna scoffed as she exhaled. Prison was always tough. She had a feeling, though, that Yoga Jones' comment was aimed at her. Nicky's absence had hit her harder than she ever thought possible, and her legs wobbled in the pose.

Whilst Nicky was in max, Lorna dealt with her emotions in the only way she knew how to - by not facing them. She ignored them at every opportunity, and whenever she thought of Nicky, whenever she felt herself slipping, she got that pen and paper out and wrote another sappy letter to another skeevy guy. It was stupid and dangerous but the only way she knew how to make herself feel better. Feel normal.

When the pain built up in her chest and made her feel like she was going to explode from this awful mix of grief and loss and heartache, tinged with fury and hate and longing, she threw herself into the best guy she had encountered. She'd listen to his compliments and bat her eyelashes as their fingers entwined. Fingers that didn't quite fit with hers, that fumbled instead of caressing.

And she'd say I love you because that's what girls do. They doll themselves up and smile prettily. They get married! At least that's what Lorna had been led to believe for most of her life, exacerbated by the fact that she was the pretty one. Her sister was the smart one, the one with the babies and the one with the perfect life.

Lorna, she was in jail. It wasn't a shock that she wasn't exactly the family favorite. But she found something on the inside that she never had before. Despite her ramblings about Christopher and weddings, she found affection. Love, even. Someone to hold on cold winter nights when you felt alone. Nicky was different. She never shied away. She even defended her!

It wasn't just physical comfort. She had realized that when Nicky was gone...when it was too late to fix. When she craved someone to talk to, someone to laugh with. It seemed now that no-one wanted to laugh. No-one wanted to talk to the crazy girl.

She couldn't blame them. Without Nicky...well, what was the point? She could only wait for a miracle, if she deserved one after everything. She doubted it.

"Remember to breathe out as well, Lorna," Yoga Jones' called. Lorna exhaled heavily, looking over anxiously at her. "That's it," she smiled. "Now relax."

A/N:

Haven't updated in awhile but I hope you enjoyed it. As always, please tell me what you think and leave suggestions for the next chapter in a review. :)