Chapter 2

A/N: I was going to wait to post this until tomorrow but I physically couldn't because I'm impatient, so here! Two in one day! Lol I'm obnoxious.

Red stayed in the washroom a long time after Nicky left, staring at but not really seeing the place her daughter had just been.

Taking in a new child, to protect and care for, was always a lengthy process for Red. She never trusted them fully immediately, especially those who were detoxing. So how had this been so easy?

Red supposed she'd seen how lost Nicky was. The other girls all had begun with some sense of distrust toward all their fellow inmates. That Red could understand - after all, prisoners weren't known for their hospitality.

But Nicky had been able to trust Red so easily. She'd shown Red her most vulnerable state and been completely unembarrassed about it, and that fact alone made Red inclined to help her further.

Another part of it, Red supposed, was the fact that Nicky had never had a real mother before. Not in the most important sense. Her other girls, for the most part, had parents on the outside who cared for them. Nicky's mother -from what little Red had heard- sounded like she couldn't care less about Nicky.

That woman should never have been a parent, Red thought angrily, if she can't even take the time to help her own daughter!

Red surprised herself with the fierceness and depth of her devotion to Nicky, which seemed to have developed in less than an hour.

Am I going soft? She wondered.

The next day at lunch, Nicky stood out to her just as much, if not more, than she had before. But this time, it wasn't the orange that caught Red's eye. It was the tired, gaunt look to Nicky's face, making her features appear long and weak.

As Nicky joined the lunch line, Red took one of the servers by the shoulder and pulled her to the side.

"I've got this one," she said. The woman gave a knowing smile. Red returned a smirk.

Nicky stepped up with an empty tray. Red caught her eye and watched her seriously.

"Sleep well?"

"Not really."

"I can tell." Red gave her a little extra, just to show that she cared, and Nicky responded with a small, half-hearted smile that tugged at Red's heartstrings.

"Thanks," she said, and walked away toward the seating area. Red turned the service back over and watched Nicky find an unoccupied table. She heaved a small sigh and went into the back.

Nicky picked at the food Red had given her, trying to eat but knowing it would all come back up later. She glanced around at the other tables and watched as women -friends- spoke to one another. Nicky had never, she was sure, felt more alone than this.

Back home, she could have called a buddy to go hang out with even if Marka was being a bitch -which, admittedly, was often.- Here, nobody knew her. She didn't know them. There was no point in getting to know them, really.

She managed a small bite of eggs, grimacing as it aggravated her already sore throat. A swishing sound caught her attention.

Looking up, Nicky saw a small carton of yogurt sitting in front of her, next to her tray. Glancing around, confused, her eyes landed on Red just across from her.

Despite herself, Nicky grinned and picked it up. This must have been difficult to spare.

"Hey, thanks!"

"We had extra," Red replied, waving her off. But Nicky understood that this was a gesture that meant more than leftover food.

Red was showing her that she was not alone here. Nicky couldn't believe how quickly she had forgotten that. Red was her friend, fast becoming so much more than that, and Nicky needed her. Red had just shown that she knew that, and that she was here for Nicky.

She fought the urge to get up and hug the Russian, right here in the cafeteria. They both had images to maintain. Instead, she opened the container and cautiously dipped her spoon into it, sighing in relief as it went down easily.

"Yogurt's the best for a burning throat," Red said. "I thought you might need it."

"I did," Nicky responded gratefully. "Thank you."

"What are mothers for?" Red gave a modest smile, a small thing, and left Nicky to think over her words.

What were mothers for, anyway? Nicky had a rather skewed perception. Marka had never done anything remotely motherly in their entire association. Nicky supposed a child wasn't in her plans for life.

Red had been a mom before meeting Nicky, she knew. So Red had experience, and Nicky guessed she could trust what Red was doing to be a much more accurate representation.

Nicky doubted she'd ever know what a 'normal' mother looked like. It simply wasn't in the cards for her. But Red did give her a sense of contentment. Something solid in a sea of unknowns. Someone steady. Nicky could already see that Red cared deeply for her, and she for Red, and that seemed all that mattered at the moment.

The next few weeks passed, not without difficulty, but with routine. Some days were worse than others - some nights were spent in the washrooms. But Red held her hair back and whispered soothing words, and when the nightmares came gave her a place to go. To feel safe. To feel loved. Sometimes, they would talk. Others, they would just lie together. It didn't matter to Red, as long as her daughter was okay.

There were constants. Every day, Nicky would wake at the same time, though she didn't specifically intend to. She would change if she felt like it, but if not nobody noticed. Her hair always looked messy, so she didn't do anything to it, and she was always early to breakfast.

Red was always there, and she always said the same thing:

'Today will be as good as you choose to make it, Nicky. Make it worth something.'

And Nicky began to believe her, bit by bit.

She began to make friends, people who would sit with her during meals and come to her aid if needed. And she would come to theirs - even if it was about something as stupid as fantasy wedding plans.

Precisely three weeks after her arrival, she received her khakis. Her emotions were mixed that day.

For one, she felt like she wouldn't stand out so much in a crowd anymore. That was good. But at the same time, home seemed that one step further away.

"Look at it this way," Red had said when she'd explained this, "Instead of it being one step away, you're one step closer to finishing your sentence and getting out of this hellhole."

"You always know just what to say," she'd responded.

"It's my job, honey."

For the first time since her arrival at Litchfield, Nicky's life felt decent. Not just a piece of it, not just a person, but everything felt… almost normal. Lorna was obsessing over Christopher, as usual, Norma was silent, as usual, Gina was… Gina, and Big Boo was terrorizing anyone she could get her hands on.

And, of course, things with Red were perfect. They were growing closer every day, and learning more and more about each other as they did. She felt like she could go to any one of them and they wouldn't hesitate to help her out, with Boo being the possible exception, but exceptions made the rule, right?

They, she was sure, were the closest thing to a family she'd ever know, and their bonds were only growing stronger with time.

But it only took one mistake for everything to come crashing down on her head.

It was a particularly bad day for Nicky. Her detoxing was taking a lot longer than she'd expected it to, and even now she was still finding it hard to stomach some things. She barely noticed when a girl she didn't know slid in next to her.

"Hey," said the newcomer. "I'm Miller. Tricia."

"Nichols. Nicky," she replied, rather automatically.

"Nice to meet you." Tricia, too, was only moving her food around on the plate. "Hey, uh, listen. I heard you're detoxing right now, huh?"

Nicky couldn't think of much to do but nod, so she did. Tricia smiled.

"I'll make you a deal," she started. "Actually, nah. Consider it a gift. Remember me later, or some shit." With that, she got up and left the table.

Nicky had been so lost in thought that it took her several seconds to notice the bag of what she guessed was heroin that Tricia had slipped into her hands.

Shit...