Author's Note: Thank you, Unnamed Guest and vausesandspanishharlem, for the lovely reviews on the last chapter. I very much appreciate that. I'm so very sorry, again, for taking forever to update this story. I've just been so busy working on my other story that I haven't been focused on this. Therefore I'll understand if people have quit reading this because of that. I'll be shocked if anyone even cares for this story anymore, honestly. Sorry. Please feel free to review, however, those always make me happy. Thanks. Enjoy.
Chapter Seven
It's only half past seven in the morning as Red hovers over a hot stove. She scrambles a batch of cheese-covered eggs on one burner while frying up fresh bacon on another. The delightful aroma hits her nose graciously; she smiles at her creation. It fills her heart with warmth to cook for other people again. Reminds of her the mornings she would get up at the crack of dawn to prepare a home-cooked breakfast for her late husband before his departure to work. Nurturing and nourishing others has always been a strong part of her nature. Makes her happy to have taken in both Nicky and Lorna—two young girls who so blatantly need a maternal figure in their lives.
The smile only grows wider when she catches a glimpse of the two very people cautiously entering her kitchen. She turns to face them after turning the heat down, looking both over thoroughly. "Good morning girls," she says, "How was your first night? I'm sure much more comfortable than the hospital, yes?"
Nicky, who's arm hasn't moved from its secure spot around the small brunette's waist, can't stop her mouth from curving up into a light smile. Anything is better than being in a hospital, she knows. But staying in a house like this—a house she can sense is full of love and security—is something she's always dreamt of. Something she never imagined would happen for her.
"For the most part it was nice. Thanks again, Red, for giving Lorn and I place to stay. It's been a long time since we met someone this kind," is her honest response. Even in school, she had no one to truly care for her well-being. Other than her best friend. It's such a foreign concept having a complete stranger willing to give them a home. Yet, it fills her with so much warmth.
Red nods intuitively, walking over to where her coffee pot sits and opens up the filter to place a fresh batch of beans. "Oh, really, you girls don't have to thank me. I wanted to have you stay here—it's so obvious you need a place and I could use the company. It's been real lonely here since the passing of my husband," she truthfully informs them after she's finished readying the coffee maker.
Eyes alert with an ever growing curiosity, Lorna stares over at the older woman with a sympathetic gleam shining through her face. "I'm sorry ya lost him—how long were ya married?"
"Oh, please, there's no reason to be sorry. I've come to peace with his death. We had time to prepare, to say goodbye and plan. He was diagnosed with cancer and we had six good months before he passed. Oh, let's see—I met him in my last year of high school and we married shortly after and he was fifty-three when he died…so just under thirty years."
"Wow," Lorna gushes, eyes glistening with a wavering interest. "Thirty years? Do you have any kids?"
Slightly nudging her on the shoulder, Nicky gives her a stern stare. One that informs her she's getting too personal with her round of inquiries. Something she knows her best friend is all too good at doing.
Turning the knobs of each burner off, the Russian woman removes both sets of pans to place on the granite countertops. She divvies out spoonsful of each onto three plates while glancing over her shoulder at the young brunette. "Long time, isn't it? No, I couldn't ever get pregnant—we did foster kids for a while up until his cancer diagnoses. Haven't done that for a while now…there's still a young girl I have contact with but that's as close to a parent as I've ever become. So, I adopted a kitten last winter—he's probably hiding up in my room; he's skittish around new people," she rambles while carrying two plates over to the circular wooden table. She motions for the girls to follow suit and smiles when they occupy two of the seats. It's been quite a long time since she's had the company of others.
Nicky grabs Lorna's hand under the table and holds it snug in her own as she listens to their conversation. She's not at all surprised to see Lorna easily taking to the motherly Russian—she's always been known to get along with others effortlessly.
"A kitten? Oh I just love cats! What's his name?" The younger girl's eyes wide with wonder.
A light chuckle escapes from Nicky—she throws an arm protectively around her shoulder and shakes her head. Leave it to Lorna to gush over a damn cat, she thinks with an affectionate smirk.
Red smiles as she carries the coffee pot over to pour in all three of their mugs. "Boris, I named him after the cat I had when I was a little girl in Russia. A chubby little tabby cat he is—I'll go search for him later after breakfast." She sets the pot back in its place before retrieving her own plate and joining her new housemates at the kitchen table.
"Ah, I knew ya had some kinda accent," Nicky subtly chimes her way into the conversation. "How long did ya live in Russia? What made ya move here?"
Picking up her steaming mug of plain black coffee, Red sips it slowly—the smile on her face slightly diminishing at such inquiry. "My mother passed away right after I began the junior high school and my father…he never really got over that, so, he shipped me here to live with a distant relative of ours," her tone filled with a faint pang. One of the few things she can't stand to discuss with anyone. She sighs and takes another sip of her coffee.
"I changed my name and created a new life for myself. That event is one of the main reasons I turned to fostering children, really. Hell, at one point, Dimitri and I had almost six kids living under this roof with us."
Having a much desired sip of her own steaming coffee, Nicky nods intuitively. If only her mother had the nerve to give her up when she was still a child—maybe she might have had the chance of being adopted, or fostered, by a woman like the one sitting beside her. A woman who wishes to better the lives of children/adolescents. "Those kids were real lucky to have someone like you willing to give them a home and care," she finally voices her opinion, eyes gazing ahead into the other's.
"I can only hope," she responds. She looks at the two girls with a smile. "Go on and eat. I'm sure it's been a while since someone's cooked you breakfast, huh?"
"The food looks real good and smells like Heaven," Lorna chirps, grabbing her fork and picking at a piece of scrambled egg. Once it hits her taste-buds, she realizes the taste is just as heavenly as the smell. Her eyes avert over to Red; a thankful expression seeping through them. "It's the best meal I've seen—thanks, Red. Where'd ya learn to cook like this?"
Spreading a layer of raspberry jam over her slice of toast, Red only smiles brightly at the heartwarming comment. "Watched my babushka a lot when I was little; I loved the smell of her cooking. Now, I like to keep my house smelling of the same scents."
Nicky shakes her head in disbelief, biting into her own piece of buttered toast. "You're a woman of many talents, yeah?"
With a light laugh, the Russian woman only shrugs. "I suppose," she mutters, having another sip of coffee. "Now, enough about me. I want to know who you two girls are—what on Earth happened for you to get in that situation?"
"I, being the wise twelve year old that I was, persuaded Lorna to skip school with me. And instead of a few hours a day of misery, that stunt landed us a whole decade of misery. Guess I shoulda stayed in school, huh?" Nicky chuckles, the only way she knows how to cope with her pain.
Tilting her head slightly, Red's blue orbs quickly fill with sympathy. She reaches across the table to cover a hand soothingly over Nicky's, letting her thumb stroke over pale knuckles. "You were a twelve year old child—it's a dumb choice anyone that age has the possibility of making. Now, that doesn't make what happened after okay at all. This man just picked the two of you up off the street?"
Lorna swallows uncomfortably. She immediately stops eating and sets her silverware on the plate. "What did ya say the cat's name is?"
Nicky notices the change of subject comes from a place of terror. She immediately pulls the brunette's head to rest softly over her heart, allowing her lips to press comforting pecks against her head. "It's okay, sweetie. Talking about how it happened isn't going to make him come after us…remember Red locked him up, yeah? We're safe now," she lovingly assures her, combing a hand delicately through dark waves.
Nodding her agreement, Red covers a hand over each of theirs. "He's never going to be able to hurt either one of you again, I promise. He's going away for life, don't you worry."
The redhead gives a grateful smile though her arm remains in place around Lorna's waist. "Good, then we have nothing to worry about. We can finally live without someone trying to abuse us," she says, trying to believe her own words. Trying to convince herself to see the truth in them—that she and her best friend never have to fear for their lives in the same way they had only days earlier.
"Even thinking about it makes my stomach hurt," Lorna admits, eyes focusing down on her half eaten plate of food. She takes her fork and moves a piece of sausage around the plate—soaking it in the juice from the eggs. A faint lump forms in the back of her throat; she can't stand to remember how the two of their lives changed on that particular day. How one little decision cost them years of their lives. It was unsettling to say the least.
Massaging the tips of her fingers delicately along the outline of her shoulders, the older woman nods knowingly and brushes a soothing kiss atop her head. Of course, remembering and discussing what happened is painful and exhausting. It sits heavy on her heart often—she hates to think about the torture the pair of them has endured over the last several years. Loathes bringing it up even more, but realizes that may be the only true way for them to heal from it.
"Believe me, kid, the same happens to me—but it's not gonna make it happen again just by talking about it, remember that."
Red gives an encouraging nod, eyes looking them over with overpowering sympathy. "That's right. You've already endured the pain and survived it. All you have to do now is work through the pain it's left you with and overcome that. And yes, that's not going to be easy nor quick…but it will happen, I guarantee you that."
"Ah, the one thing my dear best friend absolutely hates," Nicky murmurs, subconsciously resting her cheek against the brunette's. A tiny breath of air expels from her lungs. She cups a hand tenderly around Lorna's cheek, stroking its flesh softly with her thumb. "She hates talking about anything that causes her pain. Hell, I don't blame her…not after what that monster did to us. Even I'm not fond of sharing that fucked up shit with anyone. Way too raw and soon."
The sympathy only rises at hearing such comments. Blue eyes stare warmly at her two young housemates. She's had many children live under this roof with her—many of which who have endured painful pasts/home lives. But nothing as gut-wrenching as what she assumes these two young women endured. It eats her up inside to think of what kind of pain they've been caused over the last several years. And to know that their own families didn't care enough to search for them…that's something she can never comprehend.
"I know it's a lot to deal with. You girls don't have to share anything with me of what happened. Not if it's too rough—I don't want either of you to relive whatever you went through," she finally answers, placing a comforting hand on each of their shoulders. "But I want you both to know that I will be here if you ever feel comfortable talking about that."
The sun shines brightly in the sky as Lorna sits on a wicker chair in the sun-room of Red's house. More of a home than her own growing up. At least from what she can remember of that life. A distant, almost faded, memory that is. She sighs, a content sensation washing over her. It's a relief to be able to do things without the fear of being abused or tortured. A smile gradually forms on her pale face; the warmth from the sun comes as a strong comfort to her.
Standing in the doorway, Nicky watches her adoringly. She slowly enters into the room and walks up behind the brunette. Her arms encircling around her head from the back. "What're ya doin' out here looking so sweet for, huh?" She inquiries while pressing a tender kiss atop her head.
"I'm just thinking," her voice softly answers, head instinctively leaning against the familiar warmth. She pats the spot next to her, tilting her head upwards to glance gently into Nicky's big orbs. "Sit with me, hon. It's such a pretty day out," Lorna softly commands, the smile on her face only growing.
Nicky nods and plops herself down right beside her best friend. She immediately snakes an arm snugly around her waist, pulling her to lay against her own body. Her face nuzzles against Lorna's. "What's on your mind, kid? Everything okay? Something bothering ya, doll?" The questions spill rapidly from her mouth, concern immediately taking up the expression on her face.
Resting her head on the taller woman's shoulder, Lorna reaches a hand up to lightly stroke against her cheek. She shakes her head with a loving smile. "Nothing's bothering me, hon—in fact, it's quite the opposite. I'm thinking about how lucky we are to be here. How lucky we are for escaping that house and to have Red in our lives now. I just…she seems like she really cares, ya know?"
Running a hand softly through her brown waves, Nicky gives a slight nod. It's a pleasant feeling to have met a person like Red—someone who truly does show empathy and affection towards others. Something she's never had with her own mother. Her mother who apparently doesn't seem to care that she's been missing for so many years.
"I think I know what ya mean. I like Red—even more now that we know a little bit about her past with how she fostered kids and whatnot. Kinda makes me wish my own loss cause of a mother would have just gave me up…maybe then I woulda had the chance to be fostered or adopted by a woman like her," she truthfully tells her, closing her eyes in dismay. Even referring to Marka as mother twists her insides. That woman wouldn't know how to be a mother if it hit her right in the face, she knows.
Hearing that forms an empathetic knot in Lorna's stomach. She wraps her arms warmly around her neck, pressing a comforting kiss to her cheek and sighs. "I guess that means you're not interested in finding our families, huh? I don't really blame ya…not like they gave a shit about us or anything," she mutters, laying her head near her best friend's gently-beating heart.
Nicky huffs out a scoff. Like hell she's interested in finding Marka—the woman who put money and men over her own daughter. Yeah, not even if hell freezes over, she thinks to herself. "Marka can rot for all I care, kid. She's probably happy I'm not there, she never gave a shit about me to begin with," the bitterness not hard to hear from her voice. A sigh escapes her as she tugs the smaller girl closer. "If you wanna search for your family, of course I'll be here to help ya. But how come they haven't took the time to look for you? Keep that in mind, baby."
"I'm so sorry," the brunette whispers, eyes gazing sadly up into Nicky's. She lays her thumb over the flesh of her cheek and caresses it lightly. "I wish I woulda known sooner that your mom was hurting ya…maybe I coulda done something—"
"Stop it, baby. You had absolutely no way of knowing; I'm good at hiding shit like that. Besides, you were kinda busy going through your own hell with your abusive ass father," Nicky sternly points out. Fingers brush softly through short waves.
Eyebrows curving curiously over muddled eyes, Lorna lifts her head slightly. Remembering life before the kidnapping is something she struggles with. Their captor did his best to erase her former memories, she unfortunately sees. "My dad abused me? I can't remember anything about my family, Nicky. I don't understand. Am I that weak that I let some man brainwash me? I mean I must be since you still remember everything before he threw us into that torture contraption."
"Hey, don't fucking degrade yourself like that, kid. You're not weak—ya just, you're more vulnerable than most people…and that makes it easier for a sick man like that monster to manipulate ya the way he did. You're not anything even close to weak, sweet girl, look at all that we've gone through. And you still smile that angelic smile a yours," the older girl firmly informs her; her hands continuing to stroke her dark hair.
"I don't know. I still feel weak compared to you."
Nicky shakes her head and takes Lorna's into her hands. She leans their foreheads lovingly together, "Don't feel that way, baby. You're my strong girl. You fucking saved my life, kid. You are stronger than any other person I've ever met. And do not compare yourself to me, yeah? That's not healthy."
Nestling closer to her, a small breath of air escapes from her lungs. "Ya think I'da let you die? Not unless I went with ya. I couldn't live without ya, hon. You mean more to me than anyone on this entire planet. I love you," her voice murmurs, breath warm against Nicky's ear.
The palm of her hand cradled tenderly around her cheek, Nicky tilts her head and peers into her eyes with an overpowering softness. "You never have to even worry about what that's like. I'm always gonna be here with you. I love ya too, kid, so much and I promise we'll get through this mess together. We can survive anything as long as we got each other."
Two weeks slowly pass by. The two young girls gradually begin to ease into their new life in Red's house. She grows on them—quickly becoming a maternal figure that both, especially Nicky, never knew they needed. The care, affection, and stability she provides for them comes as a comfort. A heartwarming comfort that they've craved for ever since being locked up in their captor's basement.
Still, neither have brought up the events of what they've actually gone through—the pain too fresh and raw to share with a person they hardly know. However, Red doesn't push them. Only reminds them that she's willing to listen when and if they ever have the courage to talk to her about it. Something that warms each of their hearts tremendously.
A lump sits uncomfortably in the pit of Nicky's stomach as she sits beside Lorna in the backseat of Red's car that Friday morning—on the way to their scheduled appointment with Gloria Mendoza. She isn't fond of the idea of talking with a therapist, even if her best friend's right by her side. The thought of bringing up what occurred during their kidnapping or even past child abuse—it's too much and too soon, she deems it.
Peaking at the girls through the rearview mirror, Red gazes at them with nothing but the utmost sympathy. She can't even begin to imagine how hard it is to live with the aftermath of what's been done to them. To have to think about it as often as they do—she knows that must be exhausting and draining of their energy. A sigh tumbles through her larynx. She can only hope that seeing and talking to the therapist helps them cope somehow.
"How're you two feeling about this appointment? A little nervous I assume," the Russian woman gently breaks the silence with her inquiry. Eyes filled with compassion and empathy.
Taking Nicky's hand softly in her own, Lorna strokes her thumb lightly over her knuckles. She lifts her head from where it lay on the brim of the window and gives a small smile. "Yeah, but I think it'll be good for us. I hope so anyway," her eyes shift over to her best friend, love shining through as she realize just how anxious she seems to be.
"I'm only going because I don't want Lorna to do this alone," is Nicky's honest response. If it weren't for Lorna, she'd have never agreed to this. Therapy is the last thing she wants to endure. Dwelling on the past is not going to change the fact that it happened, she bitterly thinks.
Red nods sadly, still staring at them through the mirror. A sympathetic smile makes its way to her face. "I think it's a wise choice to meet with a therapist—I know you don't see this now, but I promise you talking about what happened will help you two to move past this. Just take it easy…I doubt she'll make you go into detail about anything today. You're the ones who decide when and what to share. Remember that."
Sitting in the waiting room only strengthens the anxiety Nicky's experiencing. Out of habit, she bites the side of her mouth while her eyes look nervously around the room. The pictures that decorate the warmly-colored walls are, obviously, supposed to induce relaxation but not for her. In fact, they seem to have quite the opposite effect. She sighs out of irritation. The only good thing is that she's not going through this alone. She reaches for Lorna's hand and squeezes it rather hard.
"It's not gonna be that bad, hon," Lorna softly assures, using her free hand to lay gently against the flesh of her pale cheek. Fingers stroke lovingly around it. "We'll get through this together, remember? You said we can handle anything together and the same goes for this. It won't be that bad."
Nicky inhales a deep breath and nods slowly. She wraps the smaller woman in her arms for a comforting embrace. Lips brush against the back of her head. She'll forever be grateful for having met Lorna in grade-school. A friend any person would ever be lucky to have, she thinks. A friend who's been there for her through the worst of times. "You're right, doll. We will. I just—you know I don't like getting emotional in front of complete strangers. Makes my skin crawl."
"You don't like getting emotional in front of anyone, Nicky," the brunette lightly jokes, a small smile sitting on her face. She snakes her arms soothingly around her neck, gradually pulling her closer to her own body. Her hands stroke delicately through thick red curls. "But seriously, ya don't always gotta be the tough one, ya know? Sometimes we all gotta breakdown. It's part a life."
"When did you get so deep, kid?" Nicky warmly chuckles, yet her eyes peer warmly down into Lorna's.
Lorna shrugs and lets her head rest on her friend's shoulder. "I have my moments."
Shaking her head, Nicky only chuckles once more before dropping a soft kiss atop her head. Leave it to Lorna to always find a way to brighten a dreary situation, she tells herself. "You're a precious soul, ya know that? Thank god I have you in my life, baby, I don't think I'd of survived half the shit we've gone through if I didn't know ya."
"That goes both ways, hon. I know I wouldn'ta survived any a that without you."
Before the conversation has the chance to go any further, Gloria Mendoza stands in the doorway—clipboard in hand—and glances over at the two with a kind smile, "Lorna Morello and Nicky Nichols?"