This one takes place sometime mid-season six. Nichorello ft. baby bump. :) Or, Kitten, as they both affectionately call it. :) I love that Nicky goes along with the nickname just to make Lorna happy. :) I wrote this when I was around halfway through season 6, so it may not align. Regardless, tell me what you think! :)
The morning sickness – more like every-minute-of-the-day sickness, had finally stopped sometime last week – or was it last month? Yesterday? Nicky had once told her that time in here doesn't pass like it would on the outside, not that her fried nuerons had even registered time the normal way – it was more like a waiting game until her next high, like a shit rigged game of Deal or No Deal.
Not that Lorna even knew what that meant. She'd guess it was some sort of TV show, but she'd been here too long to have that guess be even remotely educated. Nicky though, Nicky knew everything, or at least more than she did, and was always there making sure that Lorna didn't get her pretty little head with those niggling motherly instincts, caught up in some ridiculous gangbang on a quest for righteousness.
It was comforting, having her there. Everything about her was comforting now, Lorna thought, in a place like this no match for an innocent, expecting mother wanting only what was best for her child.
Kitten couldn't live in a place like this, a place full of injustice, with integrity in the shitter along with literal shit, and the smells, oh the smells, a precious, soft little baby nose would never stand a chance. Frankly, Lorna was losing the fight herself.
And Nicky knew that. Somehow, Nicky had always known what she'd been thinking, was always able to get her runaway thoughts back to stable ground, would whisper soothing words to her for as long as it took, even sometimes going as far as sneaking into her bunk during rec-time and nearly giving her a heart attack – and her Daddy had died from one when she was seven, so that was a scary premonition…wait, no, it was a predisposition, eh…uh…something to do with genetics.
Anyway, Nicky took it upon herself to make it a habit that they'd take naps together, because Lorna got next to no sleep during the night.
She'd come in her bunk and press herself against Lorna's side – also a new development, along with the disappearance of the morning sickness, was that she was forced to sleep on her back. And she hated it. Kitten was a total every-minute-of the-day-owl, kicking, and kicking, doing some tumbling like he was in a tiny tots Gymboree (she made a mental note to sign him up for that when he was a bit older. Seemed like that was his thing).
And so, in part of a mother's sacrifice, and in part because of Nicky tracing her fingers very close to her pubic bone ('it's just your bump, babe, I promise. He's kicking and I'm trying to calm him. Nothing dirty I swear') Lorna was doomed to sleeplessness.
Sometimes, Nicky didn't sleep either. She'd just stare at Lorna, obviously thinking she didn't notice and was also obviously wrong, with this look on her face that made Lorna feel like she was the light that sourced the entire world. Having someone look at you like that was something else, and distracting. Very distracting. And she'd told her so.
"Okay, you gotta stop looking at me like that. I can't sleep."
"Yeah, you can. It's easy. Just close your eyes."
"You gotta close yours too, then."
"No can do, kid."
"Why not?"
Nicky had never answered her question that day. And eventually, she did fall asleep. Probably with Nicky watching her. But that was okay. It reminded her of her mom's lucid days when she was young, and Lorna was barely six, and nightmares were her tormentor, until her mom, with her magic touch, featherlight against her back, made them stop. Those nights were her fondest memory of her mother, of the lively person she'd used to be, putting her children's needs before her own.
And here, Nicky was doing the same thing. Sure, Lorna was past thirty and hardly needed a mommy anymore and was actually due to become one herself, but the comfort was nice. Having her there was nice.
Sometimes, neither of them would sleep. If Kitten was restless beyond the confines of their calming, Lorna would be flat on her back, the hardness of the mattress felt more than normal, and Nicky beside her, a hand against her belly, fingers splayed along its hump. They'd both feel kicks in rhythmic silence, one more deeply than the other – Lorna felt like her insides were being bruised purple, while Nicky felt strong fluttering at the most.
She could remember the first time the baby kicked. She'd been moved to tears in the middle of lunch and she could remember Nicky being so confused and mildly frustrated because 'babe, there's nothing to feel. Seriously. You gotta sack up before one of the guards drags your pregnant butt down to Psych'
Yet, sometime later, after weeks, maybe a month or so had passed, Nicky had felt them too. And when she did, Lorna couldn't help but wipe a thumb under her eye and kiss away the tears. With her thumb against her lip, she smiled, as Nicky grabbed tightly onto her wrist and shook, pure extasy there on her face. It may have been the happiest Lorna had ever seen her. 'Jesus, Lorn, did you feel that? Holy shit, that's fuckin something. That's life right there, kid.'
Tonight, the kicks were abundant, and sleep was unforthcoming. Lorna stared up at the ceiling with its cracked moulding, praying to every, single, god up there that the ceiling wouldn't fall and kill her and her baby. It was a runaway thought and Lorna breathed deep, once, twice, three times, in and out, to will it away.
The panic kept rising and her palms were sweaty, and the baby's kicks were getting more and more needy and it was dark, and her roommate was taking a stark-naked shit in the corner and the muffled groans were ghostly and Nicky wasn't here, and she didn't know what to do.
"It's okay, Kitten," she murmured, rubbing gentle circles along her belly. "Mommy's here …"
"So is Auntie Nicks," a voice spoke softly in the dark.
It sounded like it had an echo, like it was far away, tinny and heavy with exhaustion. It was then that Lorna realized it was coming through the vent adjacent to her bunk.
"Go to sleep, Kitty Cat. Your Momma needs to sleep too, okay? You're being very rude, you know."
"Nicky," Lorna breathed, then a bit louder, but quiet enough not to rouse her now sleeping roommate. "Nicky!"
There was a chuckle and she could practically see Nicky bite her bottom lip and feel her hand carding through her hair. "I'm here, baby. Live and in-stereo. So, you can't sleep, either, huh?"
"No. I've tried. I wish you were here."
Nicky sighed, and Lorna could practically feel the longing in her voice. It was a strong pull. "Me too, kid. But hey, let's try this."
"Try – "
"Before Lorna could even voice her question, Nicky's voice, soft and gentle, filled the cell.
"This one's for you. And the fetus inside of you. Hey, Kitten, you hear that? Listen up."
Nicky's singing was sweet, unmarred by the violence and hate of this world and had a rising, quiet, vulnerability. Like a child's.
With her fresh face, curly hair and swooping banana bangs, she looked the part too. But past her juvenile features, cute and delicate, two things she was furthest from, was a brooding adult brain.
The juxtaposition always seemed to make her heart beat tenfold. From the moment she first saw her in Gen Pop. It wasn't from lust (not all of the time, anyway, but still, those hormones were impossible to ignore), but from something else, something much more intense and impassioned, something that made her both inexplicably happy and inexplicably sad. It was something so close, yet, something so freakin' far. There was always something standing in its way.
She tried not to think about that right now and instead, while still rubbing circles on her belly, focused hard on Nicky's voice.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you… Please don't take my sunshine away."
Just as Nicky drew in a breath, Lorna did too, but there was no more stirring from Kitten. He was asleep.
'That was beautiful', Lorna had wanted to say, so, incredibly taken aback. That was new. She had no idea Nicky could sing like that.
Instead, what came out was "you're beautiful" which made her blush crimson with embarrassment and she covered her cheeks even though there was no way Nicky could see them.
Nicky just chuckled. But there was light reflecting through it. "Thanks, kid. So are you. Now, go to sleep. Or do you need me to sing you to sleep, too?"
Lorna wanted to laugh. Could she ask her to? Or would that be weird? Lorna shook her head. There was nothing that she couldn't ask, she knew that. Nicky had made that clear.
"Could you?"
Her voice was shy, a little fearful. She knew that Nicky needed her sleep, too, but she also knew that there was nothing that she wouldn't do for her. That, too, was something else.
"Gladly, sweetheart."
And Lorna wanted to laugh again. That was her term of endearment. Stealer. She grinned.
And then Nicky started to sing again. The same, sweet song. And Lorna was asleep within seconds.
The next morning, when Nicky sat down for breakfast, she placed a sneaky kiss to the top of her head while her palm rubbed softly just below her bellybutton, unrushed because the table concealed what she was doing.
"How are my sunshines, this fine morning?"
Lorna gave her a wide smile, leaning into her side. "We're well rested, thanks to you."
Nicky winked at her, the action inconspicuous to those around them. "Glad to hear it."