Prompt #13: After sneaking in the kitchen to steal some bread, Lana discovers that Sister Eunice likes to lock herself there and sing. Lana quickly falls in love with her voice, and hides in the pantry once a week to hear her sing— until she gets caught.

Chapter Rating: K

"Oh yeah I'll tell you something, I think you'll understand, when I say that something I wanna hold your hand…"

A soft, sweet voice came from the bakery, a voice that made Lana feel she had nothing to fear despite having spent three months in the asylum already. Her bruised body was fragile now, no memories of a the strong, tough journalist that had entered there looking for answers. She remember having heard that song a month before getting caught exploring the insides of Briarcliff. She still remembered how much it had made her think about Wendy, her beautiful girlfriend— the one she had learned to stop loving after being shown the statement signed by Wendy and a judge, remanding her to the asylum's care. Now Lana saw Wendy as a painful mistake she had loved, the betrayal she felt inside having consumed her day after day.

"Oh please say to me you'll let me be your man, and please say to me you'll let me hold your hand. Now let me hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand…"

The journalist sat inside one of the lower cupboards of the pantry, in complete silence and trying not to move. Mary never sung unless she was sure she had locked that corridor's door and there wasn't anyone in it— though that day Lana had been there stealing some bread and had had to hide quickly behind some large flour bags. She smiled, her eyes closed as she listened to the song and tried to not to hum along. Mary's voice was enchanting, an angel's voice that made lana forget about her confinement. She wondered how could Mary have learnt a non-religious song, or why would she sing it. Maybe when the nun went to do the shopping to the local market she made a stop to listen to the recordings they played in the shops, or that maybe she escaped at nights to go dancing— the thought made Lana laugh softly.

"And when I touch you I feel happy inside. It's such a feeling that my love, I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide..."

Mary was kneading on the dough, singing softly. The asylum's bakery gave her a kind of peace that she couldn't find anywhere else in the building. Being alone there, maybe sometimes accompanied by a quiet, fragile Pepper, gave her a sense of solitude that she used to think about her time in the asylum. She liked being able to help, to heal the inmates wounds and bruises and read to the elder ones that had their sight blurred. Still, she did not feel she helped at all. She could not avoid people going through electroshock therapy, or aversion therapy, or simply to not to be beaten whenever they made hateful comments that were accidentally heard by the guards.

"Yeah, you got that something, I think you'll understand. When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand..."

She usually chose religious songs to sing, but that day something else was occupying her mind. Someone, actually. A brunette, short haired woman who had turned all her beliefs upside down. She did feel something for Lana, but she did not know what it was. She wanted to be her friend, to be able to sit down with her and ask her to tell her about herself, to know her deeper. She wanted to be her protector, to help her avoid the awful therapies she had to attend to, to cure her wounds if she did not save the other from the electroshocks. She wanted to kiss her, to know how did her lips taste. For the first time in her life, she wanted to kiss someone, she felt these butterflies that she had thought were a myth. And she was scared, because she felt that for a woman. Jude said it was wrong, like many other people in the country. Lana received therapy to cure it, and it scared the nun that she could end like that too.

"I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand..."

"The night we met I knew I needed you so, and if I had the chance I'd never let you go. So won't you say you love me, I'll make you so proud of me, we'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go..."

A month later Mary sung another song, Lana hidden again in the pantry as she heard the nun sing. She had decides to sneak in the kitchen once a week to just hear her sing, the perfect voice that escaped her thin, pale lips making Lana's heart melt. She had learned to appreciate the smallest things in life as she was in the asylum, from the homemade bread they were served to the unknowing company of the nun. Mary always left the pantry's door closed, but that day she didn't. And Lana saw something that made her gasp.

"So won't you, please, be my be my baby. Be my little. baby my one and only baby. Say you'll be my darlin', be my be my baby. Be my baby now, my one and only baby. Wha-oh-oh-oh…"

Mary was dancing. Her body moved slightly, just a bit awkwardly since she couldn't move her feet— the nun's mind was focused on baking. Lana smiled, her eyes set on the other's body, and she couldn't help but let out a soft giggle when the nun really got into the song, the volume of her voice increasing dangerously before she moved away from the journalist's sight. Lana leaned forward, wanting to spot the woman again, and accidentally pushing one of flour bags forward. She quickly went to reach it and pull it to its place again, closing the door. Though it was too late and Mary was already rushing to the small storage room. "Is anyone there?" the nun asked in confusion, taking a few steps forward in Lana's direction but not seeing the brown eyes that looked at her with fear. "Must have been the rats." she commented before walking out of the room.

Rats. RATS. Lana couldn't help but let out a disgusted scream as she pushed the flour bags forward, the doors of the cupboard opening soundly as she crawled out of it— obviously alerting Mary again. Suddenly the nun was on the door, observing a flour-stained, disgusted Lana stand up and shake off the flour from her hospital gown. "Sister…" she muttered, her eyes lifting to look at the nun. "Hello…"

"Miss Winters! What are you doing here?!" the other told, quickly going to help Lana clean her gown and then pulling back to look at her. "Why were you hiding in the pantry? Did you— Did you steal something?" the nun questioned with innocence. It was endearing, but when she saw the other's hands completely empty she furrowed her brows in confusion.

"I'm sorry, Sister. I came to steal some bread, me and some other inmates were hungry." Lana told, looking at the nun with fake guilt. She had come just to listen to the nun, but it was better for the other to not to know. "I did not meant to interrupt your work. You do sing really well, Sister."

"Oh, Lana, I— No, I don't. It's just a habit, I..." the nun told, walking back to the kitchen and going back to her baking tasks. "Please don't tell Sister Jude." the nun muttered, looking at Lana with worry. Jude did not like when she sang non-religious songs, and more than once she had been threatened to be caned. Mary looked at the journalist and her eyes widened in realisation before she went to take one of the finished breads and cut some slices and wrapped them with a cloth. "Please, don't tell her." she begged softly as she gave Lana the bread.

"I won't." the journalist promised, taking the bread and hiding it under her nightgown. "And sister… can I come to help you with the baking? It might help me think about something else, and well… I like how you sing."

"Of course, Lana… come back tomorrow and I'll teach you. But please, don't tell Jude."

"I won't if you don't." the brunette told with a smile before walking out of the room.

Reviews will be very appreciated. Remember that you can ask for prompts via PM or review if you want! :)