Nicky knew talking about it was not going to be easy, but she wasn't prepared for the explosion that actually occurs when she brings up the subject of Lorna getting professional help.
One minute, Lorna's sitting quietly on the couch, flicking through a magazine, making stupid jokes, and the next she's screaming and crying and threatening Nicky with a pair of kitchen scissors.
Even after everything she's learnt about Lorna pre-Litchfield, Nicky has never had justification to feel afraid of her, not until now, anyway, and it puts a completely new kind of panic in her to see her acting so irrationally. As much as she loves her, as much as she knows it's an illness talking and acting, consuming the woman she loves, she's still scared. Lorna is scary. And that's a horrible thing to admit. It settles in her stomach like poison, makes her mouth dry, and when she grapples the scissors out of Lorna's hands and curls around her, holds her still, she can still feel her heart pounding all the way through her body, from her head to her toes. Lorna is sobbing, and she's rocking her back and forth, pressed against the back of the couch, and she realises that tears are falling steadily down her own face, that she hasn't even noticed.
She knows Lorna needs help, but she now knows that it's not going to be as simple as finding somewhere for her to go, and sending her there.
Once Lorna's finally calmed down, she won't stop saying sorry, and it's not particularly surprising when that leads to sex. Nicky knows it's become Lorna's way of apologising, of making things right, that it shouldn't be her fallback, that she should be telling her no, but she just can't do it. It's enough her problem as it is Lorna's. But when it's over, she feels guilty, and makes a silent promise to try harder to say no next time.
Lorna sleeps. She looks peaceful when she sleeps. It's almost a relief to watch her sleep, and Nicky thinks that must be how parents feel when they put their toddlers down for a nap. She immediately regrets that thought, because it's patronising, and she's promised Lorna she won't handle her with kiddy gloves anymore, won't treat her like a child, but here she is.
She's exhausted, but she doesn't want to sleep. She wonders if that's how Lorna feels all the time. For just under half of their time together in Litchfield, Lorna was hiding herself from Nicky, hiding the storm that raged on inside of her, and Nicky can't even begin to imagine how exhausting that must have been. She's well versed in pretending things are okay when they aren't – isn't that exactly how she wound up down that particular rabbit hole in the first place? - but she knows it's far, far more complex for Lorna, probably more complex than she even understands herself. It shouldn't be surprising that her initial reaction to opening up and sharing all of that with someone is fear and rage. Nicky knows from the countless NA meetings she's been forced to go to – it's a part of her parole agreement, actually, and she fucking loathes it – that sharing is not easy. She usually falls back on humour because it's never let her down, but she knows it isn't the same for Lorna. She knows no matter how hard she tries to understand the demons in Lorna's head, she probably never will, and that's the most frustrating thing of all.
So, she doesn't push. When Lorna wakes up the next morning, she doesn't mention it. She gets dressed and goes to work and tells herself she's not going to spend her whole shift worrying about what Lorna's doing, and it sort of works. When she gets home, Lorna's watching television, having obviously spent the day cleaning the flat, and Nicky knows that's another part of it, that that's another way of Lorna apologising, but she doesn't mention it. They have a normal night in with take out and a trashy movie, and Nicky pretends she doesn't spend the whole time worrying that Lorna's suddenly going to snap again.
"Franny's pregnant again," Lorna says, about a week later, and Nicky realises by the deep frown lines across Lorna's forehead that that's not a cause for celebration.
"Oh," she says, because honestly, what else is there to say about somebody you don't know and a situation you're not a part of. Lorna's family have made it quite clear that she isn't welcome to be a part of it, even if Lorna tries to pretend like that isn't the case.
Lorna doesn't expand on that piece of information, but she does ask Nicky to drive her over to the house, and when she comes back, several hours later, she's even quieter than she was when she went. Nicky doesn't ask her about it because it's none of her business.
"Ayy, you mind turning that down, I'm tryin'a read over here."
The television's blaring Wheel of Fortune and she's not even convinced Lorna's watching it. She thinks there's a high chance it's only on so the noise will drown out the static in Lorna's head. It's something Nicky understands from months of having to have the tv, or the radio, or something on to even be able to sleep. That's the effect Litchfield has on you. But at the same time, it's different when it comes to Lorna, and she gets that.
Lorna looks at her blankly, before fumbling around for the remote, shutting the television off entirely.
"Why are you holding that book so close to your face, can't you read it from far away?" she says, after a moment, "I always noticed you did that before. Must be somethin' wrong with your eyesight Nichols."
Nicky glares at her, but there's a smirk lurking in the corner of her mouth, "hey, maybe you're right. That would explain my attraction to you, right?"
Lorna laughs, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes, and Nicky immediately regrets that poorly aimed joke. She's always been good at saying the wrong thing, but especially lately.
"Seriously though, your eyes are doing that whole squinting thing," Lorna continues, gesturing vaguely with her arms, squinting her own eyes, "are you sure you shouldn't have reading glasses or somethin'?"
Scoffing, Nicky shakes her head, places the book face down, open, on her lap, looks at Lorna roughly, "you sayin' I need to go get my eyes tested, is that it, kid?"
Lorna grins at her, and Nicky can't help but grin back because it feels so long since she's seen her whole face light up like that. When Lorna moves to the armchair Nicky's occupying, takes the book out of her lap and crawls into its place, she doesn't feel even slightly annoyed. She tangles her fingers in Lorna's hair, stares into those beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and lets her smile spread to her whole face as she draws Lorna's face closer, pulls her into a kiss.
"Is my face close enough for you? Can you see me okay?" Lorna says as they part, and Nicky pushes her, threatens tickling until Lorna holds her hands up defensively, curls herself around her instead, and Lorna kisses her deeply, pressing herself as close to her as possible.
"Nah, you're right, I think you're gonna need'a go across the room," breathes Nicky after a moment.
Lorna swats at her, the first open-mouthed smile for days drifting over her features, "I reckon you'd look hot with glasses," she whispers, brushing Nicky's hair out of her face, ghosting a kiss to the corner of Nicky's mouth, moving down to her jaw.
"Eyy, don't tell me you've been holding out for Vause this whole time," Nicky says, lifting her head as Lorna continues down her throat, "I don't think my street cred can take any more d-" she's cut short by Lorna reaching that spot on her neck and nibbling at the delicate skin there, eliciting a husky "fuck" from Nicky, and any talk of glasses is long forgotten.
Their second attempt at a day with Piper is much more successful than the first, primarily because it's in a relaxed setting, and even though Piper's house is full of fancy ornaments and weird kitchen appliances that she can't begin to work out the use for, it's not public, and that makes all the difference for Lorna.
She hates thinking about it that way. She hates thinking about her like she's some pet that she can't take out in public. Of course she and Lorna go out. They go out for dinner, and they go out for walks in the park, and grocery shopping, and she even put up with three hours of Lorna dragging her around clothes shopping. It's different when it's just the two of them, though.
So, Nicky's grateful when Piper announces she's going to cook for them, even if she is somewhat weary of her ability in the kitchen. Then again, this is coming from someone who lives off take-out and microwave meals, the occasional balance bar during her lunch break at work. She's in no position to judge anybody's cooking. She already knows what the contents of Piper's kitchen looks like; organic vegetables, packets of seeds, granola, cheeses with unpronounceable names. It's not entirely different from the home Nicky grew up in. She can't imagine anything worse.
Lorna spends an hour getting ready. She sleeps in curlers, spends longer than usual taking them out, longer than usual applying her make-up perfectly. Nicky likes to watch her because it only takes her five minutes to change, apply mascara (two of those minutes is waiting for the first layer to dry) and pretend to tame her hair, so she's got time. She remembers something Lorna said when they were still in Litchfield, when Nicky was making fun of her for re-applying her whole face after they'd been at it in a broom closet, realises it's still relevant now. There's not much Lorna can control, but she can control her appearance, and Nicky knows it's important to her to look nice, so she would never dream of teasing her about it now. Besides, she kinda enjoys the process.
Lorna wears a black crop top and a bright pink high waisted skirt that matches her lipstick exactly and before she's even done primping in the mirror, Nicky knows she's going to spend the whole evening wanting to tear that outfit off her.
To her credit, she makes some effort. She pushes on a nice pair of shoes instead of her grubby Doc Martens. Even attempts to flatten her hair out.
Before they leave she sneaks a hand up the front of Lorna's outfit, tries to capture her lips in a kiss that will last her the rest of the evening, but Lorna swats her away, protesting that she's going to mess her lipstick up.
The aroma that hits Nicky's nostrils as soon as she walks into Piper's flat is enough to convince her that okay, maybe Piper had a right to insult Red about the food, because damn whatever she's cooking smells delicious (thought she will never ever admit this to Red).
"Eyy, Chapman, how comes you never cooked for me before? You saving your culinary skills to impress my missus?" she asks, going straight for the cooker and lifting the lid off a boiling pan of sauce, but being slapped away before she can taste the contents.
"Don't even think about it," she says, pushing Nicky in the direction of the door, "go and sit down and I will bring some nibbles through."
Piper's got her back to her before she can even make a pun on the word nibbles, and Nicky does as she's told, finding Lorna staring at a framed photograph of the Chapman family that's sitting on the mantle piece in the living room. There's a weird expression on her face, but Nicky doesn't get a chance to question it before Piper's thrusting a bowl of organic olives and feta cheese at her.
"You call these nibbles?" Nicky calls after her, but she plucks an olive out of the bowl anyway, tosses it in the air, catching it in her mouth.
"You've got a lovely house," Lorna says after a moment. She's moved to looking at a shelf of exotic fish ornaments, and her eyes are bigger than usual, drinking it all in, "real nice. Nick, look at this stuff."
She looks but she doesn't really see what's got Lorna so worked up, the source of the wonderment in her eyes, maybe because she grew up with stuff like this, or maybe because she's spent too much time in Piper's house prior to Lorna getting out. Either way, she pretends to look, mostly just to humour her, until she catches glimpse of a picture of a teenage Piper, and can't help but snatch it up off the shelf for a closer look.
"Man, I always saw you more as the debutant type Chapman... what's this, soccer practice?"
Piper appears, snatching the photograph away, "if you must know, I used to play hockey," she pauses, sighs, "well, until I got hit in the face with a puck on the second day, anyway."
Nicky can't help but lose it at this, laughs so hard tiny tears are threatening at the corners of her eyes, and the indignant look on Piper's face just makes it worse. She catches a look at Lorna out of the corner of her eye, and she's stifling giggles too, and that just sets her off again.
"I'm sorry but you gotta admit that's pretty funny," Lorna agrees, patting Piper briefly on the arm, "and if it makes ya feel any better, my dad made me play softball when I was a kid. I got hit square on the mouth once, lost a tooth."
"Softball, huh, that makes some things make a lot of sense," she shoots back, raising her eyebrows in Nicky's direction, and she can't help but smirk in response, watching Piper head back to the kitchen, leaving her to try and explain to Lorna who is less than pleased about being left out of the joke.
Dinner's nice. Conversation flows easily, revolving mostly (unsurprisingly) around Litchfield and old friends and the havoc they used to wreak there on a daily basis. It fills Nicky with hope that Lorna spends the night laughing, and talking, and stuffing her face methodically like only she can. She seems so much more alive than she has in a while, and on their way out, even Piper comments (quietly, when Lorna can't hear her) that she seems better.
Better, unfortunately, isn't a fixed state, but Nicky doesn't want to mention that. She knows it's difficult for Piper, who doesn't see Lorna every day, doesn't live with the demons, to understand.
The drive home is quiet, but its a comfortable quiet. Lorna spends a lot of it looking out of the window, a soft little smile on her now not-quite-bright-pink lips, and Nicky keeps catching glimpses of her when she stops for a red light. She seems content. The kind of content that she only usually is when she's sleeping (and that's when she isn't being hounded by night terrors).
Later, when Nicky's finally got her out of that sexy little outfit, and they're both tangled up in the sheets, sweaty and quiet and fulfilled, Lorna's mood has shifted. She lies on her side, staring at Nicky, and her eyes are serious, far more serious than they have been, and the feeling of dread is already beginning to settle in Nicky's stomach before she even opens her mouth.
"Will you go for an eye test?" Lorna says, after an uncomfortably long time, and Nicky almost laughs at the absurdity of it. At the thought that that somber little look on her face is about the possibility of Nicky needing glasses.
"It's really not that big a deal-" Nicky starts, but she can tell there's something else, something Lorna's trying to say without saying.
"If you go for an eye test I'll..." she sighs, looks away, swallows, and Nicky thinks she knows where this conversation is going, can see how hard Lorna is trying to muster up the strength to say it. Nicky threads her fingers through Lorna's, brings her hand up to her face, brushes kisses across her knuckles. Lorna cups her face with her spare hand, rubs her thumb across Nicky's jaw, "I want to try," she finally breathes, her voice no louder than a whisper.
Nicky knows that that's as much of an admission of defeat as she's going to get, and even if she hasn't completely agreed to getting help, it's a start, and that alone means everything. In the morning, she wakes up early and makes an appointment at the opticians, leaves a leaflet for the local doctor's office pinned to the fridge for Lorna. It's a start.