A/N: Sorry for the ridiculous wait guys...things have been super busy, and this chapter is pretty long. Only one or two left after this, I THINK. But don't quote me on it, I'm famously bad at estimating length.

General Fic Warnings: PTSD, depression, lightly evocative of self-harm

happiness (damn near destroys you)

Less than two minutes after hugging them goodbye in the visitation room, Piper finds Alex still waiting in the bunk. Alex's smile is like a wave of warmth, the first step inside the house after being left in the cold.

"Hey. How was it?"

"Okay," Piper says, just that, but Alex's eyes dim anyway.

"Who came?"

"My parents. Cal's at his in-laws." Settling onto the bed beside Alex, Piper leans against the wall and cuts her eyes sideways. She wants, badly, to fold herself against Alex, huddle for warmth, but she holds back.

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Not right now."

Piper's nervous Alex might push her on that, but she just nods, soft eyed and understanding, then asks quietly, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." It slips out too fast, and Piper flinches at how unconvincing she sounds.

Silence wedges between them, long enough that it almost turns uncomfortable, but then Alex wraps her fingers around Piper's hand, squeezing gently, her eyes lit with sudden purpose.

"Will you come with me somewhere?"

"Sure," Piper tries to smile at her. She agrees without even wondering where Alex means, grateful to seize onto any distraction, but then Alex stands up, grabs Piper's heavy brown coat off the hook and tosses it to her. "What - ?"

"We need to stop by my bunk for mine. It's cold as fuck outside."

Alex shrugs into her the bulky coat and nods her head toward the exit of the dorms. Piper keeps close, following her through the prison without asking questions, and when they get close to the door Alex reaches back and reclaims her hand.

She hates how anxious she feels already, her heart slipping around inside her chest like it's come untethered. She pushes out the door and hears Piper say her name like a question.

The yard is mostly deserted, though she can spot Watson and a few other die hards running the track in sweatsuits, a solitary CO standing to the side, uniform covered by winter layers. He glances over at them when they emerge, and Alex automatically drops Piper's hand. Her gaze jumps straight to the greenhouse, looming through another layer of black fence.

Without meaning to, Alex stops walking. For the first time, she feels really afraid of what she might do, and she's questioning whether she really wants Piper here to see it. But then Alex feels Piper's hand on her back, and she moves close enough to slide their fingers together again.

Warmth catches between their palms, and it feels like strength. It makes it easier to breathe.

Then she just does it.

Alex walks across the yard, the route she easily took every day on grounds crew, until they're right outside the greenhouse.

Piper's voice is close. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

And she is.

Alex has built this up in her head for months now, as weak as it's made her feel. But nothing happens; standing there doesn't suck her into a thick pit of memories. It actually makes her feel good, like this means something, like it's really over. She even catches herself looking forward to telling Berdie about this.

Feeling bold, she squeezes Piper's hand. "Let's go inside."

"Really?"

"Just for a second."

She can see where it happened, a few splotches in the floor where the wood is darker. It doesn't really look like blood anymore, if someone didn't know. Just stains, spilled varnish.

And she's fine.

Piper looks less so, her fingers tight in Alex's, her eyes aimed up at the ceiling. It's finally Alex who squeezes her hand and asks softly, "Wanna go?"

Piper's voice is strained, but she just says, "Only if you're ready."

Together, they walk back, not talking much, their boots crunching into dirty, iced over patches of snow across the yard. They're nearly to the door when Piper asks tentatively, "Why today?"

Alex knows what she means, and she throws a smirk in Piper's direction. "I figure if you can take your parents, I can deal with looking at a fucking building no problem." Piper's staring straight ahead; there's no reaction in her expression that Alex can read. They're back in the eyeline of the CO now, so Alex just bumps her shoulder lightly against Piper's, softening her smile. "You make me brave, Pipes."

She means it; she's seen every ounce of effort Piper's been putting in, ever since that first night she woke Alex out of a bad dream. It's all gotten easier for her, now, Alex can see it, but she'd also seen Piper slogging her way through pain in order to get to that point.

But now Piper's face tightens into something like a grimace, and she still isn't looking over at Alex.

"I mean it," Alex says, more forceful, her voice acknowledging Piper's seeming rejection of the statement. "I'm really proud of you."

"Don't be," slips out between Piper's teeth. She finally turns her head, expression pained. "You shouldn't be proud of me for finally trying to act like a decent human being."

It's been weeks since Piper's said anything like this, and her voice is harsh, an electrical shock of sudden intensity. Alex feels sick all of a sudden, like she's about to watch all their progress unravel. "Okay, what the hell happened? What did they say to you?"

Piper exhales hard enough that it puffs out in the winter air, but she doesn't answer. They've reached the main building now, and Piper's hunched over, arms crossed tightly at her chest, so she shoulders the door open like an angry little kid, quickening her pace almost like she's trying to leave Alex behind.

"Piper."

Alex says her name in that firm, no-bullshit way she has, but Piper can't let herself stop moving. She feels tightly wound and scared of herself in ways that have been absent for awhile now. She wants her tattoo gun, wants a fresh needle, but at the same time she's thinking those words - you make me brave - don't belong on her skin anyway. She's been letting Alex tug her forward, past everything she's done, but the truth about herself keeps catching up and nipping at Piper's heels.

It's never going to stop. And it's going to be all that's waiting for her when she gets out of here without Alex.

She feels Alex tug, hard, on the back of her shirt. "Piper, whatever your parents said - "

Piper finally twists around long enough to grit out, "Come with me."

Alex shuts up, probably just relieved Piper isn't trying to get away from her.

They're both quiet until they get back to Piper's bunk. With a grim sort of purpose, she sits on her bed, legs stretched out in front of her, and she takes a second to glance around the dorm, make sure no one's hovering. Standing over her, Alex demands, "What is wrong?"

"You know, Alex," Piper says quietly. "You've always known..."

Before Alex can ask her to clarify, Piper slides a little lower on the bed, pulling her pants down at the waist and tugging one side low enough to reveal the tattoos on her thigh.

She'd done them like a list, neat and even, upside down to anyone but Piper herself, so Alex drops to her knees on the floor, scooting forward a little to see. Piper can't see her face while she reads. "It's always going to come back to that, Alex," Piper says quietly, utter exhaustion clinging to every syllable. "You just keep figuring it out, over and over."

Alex isn't turning around, even when Piper reaches down and pulls her pants back up. There's nothing left to look at, but Alex still doesn't move until all at once her shoulders shudder and then bend, head dropping into her hands as she starts to sob.

Piper's stomach lurches. No no no that isn't what she meant to happen. "Alex, don't cry." She's not soothing, just begging. "Please don't..."

But Alex does, just sits and cries with her knees on the floor and her elbows on Piper's mattress. Piper makes herself stay still and listen, but she doesn't let herself touch Alex.

Finally, Alex goes quiet, and it takes another minute before she lifts her head and turns to look at Piper, every movement slow and deliberate in a way that's almost frightening. Her eyes are blazing, and her voice sounds strangled by tears. "Is that all you think you are to me?"

"I..." Something about the way Alex is looking at her neatly punctures Piper's conviction. "It's just - "

"That's so fucked up, Piper. Fuck." She pushes her hands through her hair and glares up at the ceiling, still fighting back tears. "Think about the worst things you've ever said or thought about me, I'm fucking sure there are some gems...you want me to get a goddamn tattoo of them?" Piper flinches, trying not to hear echoes of her own voice; she used to say anything about Alex, to Larry, to her parents, to Nicky, she hadn't fucking cared: anything to make Alex the bad guy. "Do you?"

Piper shakes her head, fast. She can't look at Alex anymore, she's more upset than Piper expected. It's making her feel like she's done something awful. Like she's taken something.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Alex spats. "This is so fucking unfair, Piper. Fuck." Her voice is almost soft, but it feels like she's yelling. "How about every good thing I've ever said to you, every time I've told you I loved you...where the fuck is that on your goddamn leg? You know that's going to be on you forever? All of that shit is, but especially...Jesus, what were you thinking?" She pauses, breathing hard, then asks, "When did you do it?"

There are tears stinging Piper's eyes now. She hates this, and she's nearly forgotten her reason for showing this to Alex in the first place. "A few hours before you broke the gun."

Alex makes a crooked, seething sound. "All of it?"

"Yes."

"Of course you did." Alex shoots to her feet, suddenly, and the movement makes Piper look up at her. Her face is twisted, a mask of devastation and anger. "How the hell did you think that was gonna make me feel?"

"I..." Piper's voice starts breaking all over the place. "I don't know - "

"Well let me tell you then, Pipes, it makes me feel like absolute shit." They're both crying by then, and Alex turns on her heel and starts walking toward the cube's doorway, but she only gets three steps before she spins back in the other direction, pacing in tight, frantic circles.

"What...what are you doing?"

"I don't know." Now she is almost yelling. "I'm really fucking pissed at you, Pipes, but I can't walk away, cause I think maybe that's what you want." The fight drains out of her voice, leaving it tired. "Christ, I don't fucking know anymore..."

"I'm sorry," Piper nearly whispers. "I didn't mean...I didn't mean for you to feel bad."

Alex stops moving, and she looks at Piper for a long time. She comes closer and kneels down again, meeting Piper's gaze. Her eyes are red, voice rough. "I don't know what your parents think of you, Pipes. But I know there's a pretty good chance they're wrong. And I know that this..." Delicate, like she barely wants to touch it, she splays her fingers over Piper's leg. "...isn't what I think of you. You know that." Her voice snags. "But now it's...it's on you. Permanently."

Before Piper can think of an answer, Alex is standing up, her lips barely brushing a ghost of a kiss on Piper's forehead as she goes. "Let's meet back up before for dinner, okay?"

She walks out without waiting for the affirmative, not heading for her own bunk but leaving the dorms entirely, covertly wiping her eyes when she does. It makes Piper's chest hurt because she knows, a deep irrational knowing, that Alex isn't really leaving because she's angry; she's going in case she breaks down again, so she won't do it in front of Piper.

When she's out of sight, Piper rolls over on the bed, pressing her face into her pillow. She's had the look on her dad's face in her head since she left him, and now Alex's is there, too. She can't stop screwing up, letting everyone down. She flips over on her back again, her hand inching under her shirt, dragging her fingers across her ribs. Every single tattoo is screaming.

Impulsively, she stands up and heads out of the dorm, walking to the bathroom with a vague notion of looking for Alex, but it's empty inside, not just of Alex but anyone, and for some reason Piper doesn't leave right away. Keeping her eyes low, she walks to the edge of the sink furthest from the door and positions herself a few feet back from the counter.

She lifts up her shirt and looks in the mirror; her face is barely in the reflection, but she makes sure not to look at any part of it, focusing on her ink scribbled torso. She's never looked at it properly, and hasn't looked at all since she stopped adding to it. Somehow it's worse than she thought; more tattoos than blank skin. Her fingers shake as she uses one hand to keep hold of her shirt, the other freely roaming the strange canvas. It's messy work. Slanted, tremulous words aimed in varied directions.

She doesn't need to see her leg again. Piper knows how that looks.

Her hand uncurls and her shirt, wrinkled now, falls back over her torso, hiding the evidence. And finally, Piper's eyes roam up until she's meeting the gaze of the person in the mirror.

That's what it feels like: like looking at someone else, a separate entity. Her lungs are slowly folding in on themselves, but Piper can't stop staring. Her reflection is disheveled and sallow. It is bones and shadows. For a crazy second, Piper is reminded of the way Alex looked the first day she came back from the hospital, fresh scars and ill-fitted skin and sickly complexion, looking like she was made out of tragedy.

Except Piper isn't a tragedy. She is a horror story, and she's turned her body into the haunted house.

When Alex walks away from Piper, she goes back to the greenhouse.

She's not sure why. Maybe to get that feeling of strength back, use it to put herself back together. Or maybe she's hoping it will feel more like punishment this time.

She goes inside again, walks over her own faded bloodstains, and she slips her hand under her shirt, consciously tracing the thick, ropey skin on her stomach, but all she can think about is Piper's damned tattoo, uglier than any scar.

Alex hates Piper a little bit, for putting it there, fucking memorializing that, but she maybe hates herself a little, too, for saying those words in the first place.

She is so tired. Last night they were kissing in the snow and now she's trying not to cry in the exact place she was nearly gutted to death.

She doesn't wait until dinner, and instead goes back to the dorm barely an hour after leaving it. Piper's curled in her bunk, facing the wall, and Alex hovers quietly in the doorway for nearly a minute without being noticed before she decides what to say.

"You're going to get rid of those, right?"

Piper twists around to look at her; even her surprise seems dulled. "Huh?"

"Those fucking tattoos, Pipes, the ones on your leg...I know none of them are great, but those especially...when you get out of here, you're going to go to some fancy clinic and have them lasered off, right?" It's a question with only one acceptable answer.

Slowly, Piper sits, drawing her knees up onto the mattress and wrapping her arms around them. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and when she looks at Alex, dread settles over her face. "I don't really want to think about that."

"Yeah..." Hesitant, Alex moves further into the cube and finally sits beside Piper on the bed. "Could kinda tell you weren't thinking long term with the prison ink."

"That's not what I meant." Her face tightens. "Getting out...I'd kinda forgotten about that."

Alex huffs out a laugh. "You may be the first person in prison to ever say that."

Piper doesn't smile. "It's...less than three months, Alex."

"Yeah, Pipes, I know."

Piper's chin quivers, and she's blinking hard; it makes her seem heartbreakingly young, and Alex slides a little closer on the bed. "I don't want to go."

Alex isn't sure why this is what they're talking about right now, but she takes Piper's hand and repeats her joke, her voice gentle. "First person in prison to ever say that, too."

"I mean it."

"I know you do. But you shouldn't, Pipes."

"I didn't even think about...you've got years left, Alex. I didn't even consider that part when I made Polly report you. I wanted you back to be with me, but you're gonna be here for so long by yourself when you never should have been back at all..." She's getting increasingly distressed, talking too fast, her voice right on the brink of a whimper. "Maybe if I do something, if I try to get my sentence extended - "

"Whoa, okay...slow down." Alex touches Piper's chin, makes her look over. "Do you wanna think about that for a second, Pipes, or do I actually need to explain all the reasons that's a fucking stupid idea."

Piper makes a face, shaking her head in protest, "Alex - "

"Fine, explanation it is. You've been to SHU, what, twice now? Once for six weeks. Neither of us know what it would take to get your sentence extended, but whatever rule you break is way more likely to get you sent back to seg, or upgraded to max, and that wouldn't help anyone." Alex threads her fingers through Piper's hair. "And anyway, it's stupid to feel bad for being out before me. This is just...back to how it was supposed to be."

"What?"

"Pipes, you carried a fucking suitcase. Once. Because I asked you to. I should have years more prison time. The only thing that changed was Chicago, and I'd take that back if I could."

"You didn't do anything wrong in Chicago."

"I know that," she says evenly. "But it still sucked for you. And getting out, even if I'd stayed out...I never would have taken that deal if I thought Kubra wouldn't be locked up."

When Alex says that, Piper leans back against the wall and wonders what would have happened, if they'd never testified in Chicago, or if Alex had just lied on the stand...if they'd gone back to Litchfield together.

Alex never would have been in danger. Piper never would have had her sent back, wouldn't have been the reason for Alex nearly dying. There wouldn't have been that guilt, and maybe she never would have cheated. She'd never have had to see Alex lying on the greenhouse floor soaked in her own blood. Wouldn't have spent two months thinking she'd lost her.

But what fucks Piper up is slamming up against the realization that she still would have had reasons to feel guilty. She still would have been the one to recently break Alex's heart.

Piper would have wanted her again, of course she would have, right away. And maybe Alex would have thought it was only because Larry left, would have felt like a second choice instead of the love of Piper's life.

"I'm sorry," she chokes out suddenly. She's lost track of how many times she's said it.

Alex frowns a little, knitting her eyebrows together. "For what?"

"Just all kinds of stuff."

"Piper...you're here because of me," Alex says softly. "Don't think I don't know that, okay? It was fucked up of me to name you, and none of the rest of it would have happened if I hadn't. I've got my own shit to be sorry about. And I am."

They're both quiet for a moment until Piper asks softly, "Would you take that back if you could?"

Alex meets her eyes, wary. Carefully, she counters with, "Would you want me to?"

For a second, Piper unravels another what if? scenario, one that starts with her never coming to Litchfield. She feels so far removed from her life before prison, but the most impossible part is that she hadn't seen Alex in eight years, and never expected to again.

"No," she says firmly, holding Alex's eyes. "I wouldn't."

Alex's face relaxes into a smile. "That's good. Because I really wouldn't want to."

Piper catches herself smiling, too, and she hides it in the folds of Alex's shirt, leaning against her for a moment. She feels Alex kiss her temple, then lean close to her ear and whisper. "Your turn."

"Hmmm?"

"It's your turn to ask me."

Reluctantly, Piper lifts her head to give Alex a questioning look.

"Ask me if I'd want you to take back getting me sent here."

"I would - "

"Stop." Alex lifts her glasses on top of her head. "I said ask me."

"Would you?" There's no weight to the words.

"No." She half-smiles. "No way."

Warm tears well in Piper's eyes; she can't believe her. "Alex, you almost died - "

"Still no. I would have taken off to some other country and never seen you again." Alex smirks, but her eyes stay soft. "We're both assholes who got each other sent to prison. But personally...I'd rather be an asshole than lose you." She grins. "So it's kinda good we're so fucked up."

A thin, weightless laugh leaps out Piper, and Alex's smile widens at the sound. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Always make me believe you."

Alex tucks a strand of Piper's hair behind her ear, so tender it makes Piper's chest feel like it's breaking open. "It's cause I'm always right, babe."

Piper laughs again, but it's tearful. "I really don't want to leave you." She's still certain the only good she has in her is the ability to make Alex happy, to be there for her. And soon, too soon, she won't be able to.

"I know." Alex wraps an arm around her, and Piper gratefully leans into her side. "And I probably shouldn't say this, but I don't want you to go. But...it's not like we have to be over." Her voice warms, soft and teasing. "Be kinda fun to have visits." She's quiet for a bit, then murmurs into Piper's hair. "We'll be okay."

For just a moment, Piper lets herself be lulled into the easy comfort of Alex's words. She stays where she is, chin resting on Alex's shoulder, letting her mind run ahead. She doesn't have to take that job her dad mentioned. It won't make him happy, or any less disappointed with her; it'll just be something she owes him. She doesn't even have to go back home. She can get some crappy apartment close by, wait tables maybe - she has waitressing experience, from years and years ago, and she can probably get job placement through some program or another offering tax incentives for hiring her.

And she can come back and see Alex, any day she wants. She doesn't want to think about the rest of that yet...the reality of one hour visits at a time, from opposite sides of a table. Right now, it's a relief to just grasp onto a plan.

She doesn't think she'll need anything else. As long as Alex is still here, the least Piper can do is stay as close as she can.

That and try like hell not to hurt her again.

At dinner, they get to an empty table and Piper sits down first. Rather than take her usual spot across the table, Alex plops her tray down to the right of Piper, smirking as she sits. "Look, we're like those couples you hate in restaurants."

Piper tilts her head and grins at Alex. "We're the worst."

Alex sets her elbow on the table and props her chin on her hand, mock gazing at Piper, but it's barely a joke; she doesn't want to look away from her smile.

All at once, though, Piper's smile flickers and she slowly offers, "We don't have to do this anymore, you know. Sit alone." Her gaze tracks across the cafeteria to the table with Lorna, Boo, Yoga and the others. "I wouldn't mind hanging out with everyone else some."

Alex can read Piper like her favorite book, and right now her eyes are swimming with worry, like she's already beating herself up about leaving Alex alone so she's trying to set up play dates. Alex nudges Piper's leg with hers and throws her a small, grateful smile. "Maybe tomorrow? For Red's big Christmas dinner. Tonight it can just be us."

With perfect comic timing, a few of the older prisoners whose names Alex doesn't even know start heading for them, settling on the other end of their table. Alex starts laughing and after a second, Piper follows.

"Aren't you glad we're an annoying restaurant couple, now?" Alex says in an undertone, just wanting the laughter to keep going.

"Can I ask something?" Alex asks hesitantly toward the end of the meal, when they're fuller than usual and sitting in comfortable quiet.

Piper eyes her with a hint of anxiety, but she nods in agreement. "Of course."

Alex is already second guessing her own timing. She doesn't want to ruin the contentment that's settled between them, but she can't help but want to know, "What happened? With your parents." Piper's expression turns instantly impassive, but before she can dismiss the question, Alex adds, "Something made you want to show me those god awful tattoos, Pipes."

Her face tightens, but she nods. "A lot of it was just...my dad started pushing me about what I'm going to do when I get out, kept saying I need a plan because I only have a few months...I don't know, it sounds so stupid, but I hadn't even thought about getting out in so fucking long. Not since..." Her eyes move to Alex's scar, and Alex can see her forcing herself to keep going, tightening her jaw and saying steadily, "...since you got hurt. I never even really thought about you being in here so much longer than me. It's a pretty fucking clear reminder of how selfish it was getting you back here."

"Hey, we covered this, Pipes. I'm glad it happened."

"Yeah, but you know what it mean. Even if you're saying it worked out better this way...I don't like being the person who did it."

"It's only fair, right?" Alex asks softly. Then, frowning softly, she adds, "Was that everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, just...I thought maybe it was your parents. Especially your dad. How was he?"

Piper shrugs with a dismissive sort of lost cause expression, but her eyes are loaded with pain that makes the fight rise in Alex's throat, like she wants to confront Piper's parents herself, defenses swinging. "The same as last time. Hating being here, probably hating me for it." Her voice catches, just a little, and Alex rubs her back, comforting. "It feels like...he just doesn't like me anymore." Piper always sounds so fragile talking about this, like a sad little girl, and it breaks Alex's heart every time. "My mom and I were never that close, but my dad...he was always really proud of me." Alex knows all this already, but she doesn't say so. "But I don't think anything he was proud of was really me, you know? Now he knows I'm not the good kid."

"Screw that, Pipes," she says immediately, maybe a little too forceful. She swallows back a rising tidal wave of a rant about Piper's family. "He knows about one fucking thing you did, almost ten years ago. Because of me. You've got nothing on him, being a cheater's much worse."

It just slips out, with no thought to the implications, but Piper looks immediately stricken, and Alex winces before she can stop herself. The air between them clouds over, but they don't break eye contact. It's a long, loaded look, a silent acknowledgement of the one thing they hardly ever talk about.

"I'm sorry," Piper says at last, the words barely audible.

"I know." Alex reaches for her hand and squeezes it. She waits, letting any leftover sourness dissolve before she continues on like nothing happened. "I feel like I should point out, Pipes, that you're totally still the good kid. If there's an adult version of a goody two shoes, you're it."

Piper still seems tangled up in the earlier comment, half out of it when she mutters a reply, "Yeah, right."

"I'm completely serious." Alex is quiet for a moment, thinking, then she says, "Remember when we got the Appalachian mountain troll sent to psych? She was a homophobic asshole who basically put you in SHU, plus her crazy was at least half real. But you still risked going back to seg to get her out. Just because it was the right thing to do. And it wasn't just to look good, cause the only person who knew was me, and I told you outright it was fucking idiotic." Piper looks at her, cautious light returning to her eyes, and Alex softens as she finishes, "You are a good person, Pipes. You don't get to just decide that's never been true."

Piper sways forward, just a little, not like she meant to do it, and her eyes are tight and narrow on Alex's face. Like she might kiss her. Anticipation swells in Alex's chest even as she smirks and nods pointedly to their surroundings.

Lips crooking into a tiny smile, Piper seems to check the instinct, and instead just says softly, "You're doing it again."

"What?"

"Making me believe you."

"Good. I told you, kid. I'm always right."

Piper does kiss her later, when they're sitting shoulder to shoulder on Alex's bed, sharing earbuds from a radio and listening to quiet, cheesy Christmas songs.

The dormitory is quiet and still; the Christian prisoner contingent is hosting a Christmas Eve service in the chapel, and more than the usual churchgoers seem to be attending. Alex's eyes are half-closed, lazy, and Piper's feet are bare; she knocks her heel lightly against Alex's ankle to get her attention. "Hey." Alex opens her eyes and turns her head as much as she can without yanking out the headphones, waiting. "I love you."

Then Piper's mouth is on Alex's, barely a breath later; still not letting her say it back.

Piper wakes up the next morning when one of the CO's voices comes over the intercom, the usual wake up call, this time with information about extended holiday visiting hours and chapel services. She sits up in bed, and her gaze moves automatically to Alex's cube, always her first instinct of the day. Alex is already standing, her eyes waiting for Piper's. She smiles, mouths Merry Christmas, then nods toward the bathroom. Piper smiles and nods, going for her towel and shower bag. She likes this, that they have morning routines now, and today she's filled up with relief that her parents' obligatory Christmas visit happened yesterday. It's over, out of the way; she could call home later if she wanted to, have the phone passed around the various judgmental relatives, all of them faking pleasantries, but she knows she won't do it.

Today, she only has to talk to Alex.

It's a good day. They sit in a corner of the TV room for awhile and watch It's A Wonderful Life, but then an argument starts when someone tries to turn it to an all day marathon of A Christmas Story instead. Alex rolls her eyes at Piper as a CO intervenes; she's eating a candy cane that was attached to one of the generic Christmas cards all of them got handed this morning, sent from various volunteer church groups. Alex is holding it around the hook, licking the end into a sharp point.

"You're going to cut yourself with that thing," Piper says dryly.

Alex grins. "I'll be careful." She's quiet again, and Piper glances back at the TV. Apparently It's A Wonderful Life won out. She's about to settle back into watching when Alex says in an undertone, "This is nice." Piper looks at her, unquestioning, but Alex clarifies anyway. "You. Christmas." Her eyes flash with mirth and she adds, "We're like our own two person prison family."

She's kidding, but for some reason, it makes Piper's eyes tear over. Her heart feels light, full of air.

She never thought of them that way, like family. Alex has always, always been a choice - not loving her, but being with her - and Piper has never thought of family as something you get to choose.

She takes Alex's hand and plays absently with her fingers, too many emotions tangling in her chest. She's happy, almost unbearably so, but she can already feel a shadow ache over what's coming, an ache that will turn into missing her.

Piper still thinks it's unfair that Alex will be here for so much longer than she will, when the whole reason for sending her back was that Piper wanted them to be together. But even more than that, Piper doesn't want to leave her, so much so that being here seems worth it. Somehow everything's gotten twisted: Alex feels like home and Piper's waiting family feels like a prison, like the thing that will trap her.

She kisses Alex again when no one's looking; she tastes like peppermint.

Three days after Christmas, Alex meets with Berdie for the first time in nearly a week.

"Vause," she smiles in greeting as Alex sits in her usual chair across from Berdie's desk. "How was your Christmas?"

"Fine," she answers, dismissive, wanting to cut through the small talk and get to the big, important news.

"I know holidays in prison can be rough - "

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Your attack? Nothing. But I'd be your counselor even if we weren't having extra sessions..." She smirks. "Nothing wrong with talking about other things, too."

Rolling her eyes, Alex counters bluntly, "Well, can we just stay on topic?"

"Sure. What's going on?"

"I went to the greenhouse." Damn it. Alex is trying really hard not to sound proud of this tiny, pathetic accomplishment, but it's there in her voice anyway.

The impressed beam Berdie throws her isn't helping matters. "Good for you, Vause. How did it go?"

"Fine," she says firmly. "I mean, completely fine. Nothing happened. I went twice, even went inside. You can still see the fucking blood, but I didn't feel anything."

Berdie is smiling at her like Alex just won a Pulitzer. "That is awesome to hear, Alex. Truly. You feel good about it?"

"Sorta. Also kind of stupid, for turning it into such a big deal when it wasn't."

"Well, it was a big trigger you knew how to avoid. Most of the time, you weren't prepared for them...when the guard grabbed you, or seeing something that made you think of blood. But seeing the place it happened...that was in your control." She turns down the wattage on her smile into something more gentle. "You weren't afraid of a greenhouse, Vause. It was the flashbacks it could have caused."

"But it didn't."

"No, and that's great."

"So...we done here?"

Berdie lifts an eyebrow, but she doesn't look surprised. "Do you feel done?"

"Yeah. I haven't had nightmares in like two weeks. And honestly, when they happen, I've figured out how to deal with them." Alex doesn't mention that dealing just means Piper waking her up, pulling her back to safety. "It's been even longer since a panic attack. And we both know I'm not really saying anything useful or new in these sessions, anymore. No breakthroughs." She stops talking, but Berdie still seems to be waiting for more, so Alex sighs and tries not to sound irritated. "I feel good. Really. And honestly, the only time I really think about it is when I'm in here and forced to...feels like it's getting counterproductive."

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, we can scale back to less frequent counseling sessions. If you feel ready. Just as long as you know you can still come to me anytime if it starts getting bad again." She takes Alex's file and starts making a note of something as she talks. "We can meet the same amount as any inmate and counselor, but I'll still want to check in on how you're doing with everything for awhile. Fair?"

"Fair." She can hardly get the word out. Even though Alex had convinced herself before coming in here that she had a rock solid case, that there was no excuse for Berdie prolonging this anymore, she still feels dazed with the surprise of getting what she wants.

Berdie finishes writing, then closes the file to give Alex a kind, genuine smile. "I'm proud of you, Vause. Really. You've been through a lot, and you're kind of in a horrible environment to deal with it. But you're doing great."

"Thank you." Alex looks away, uncomfortable with the sincerity of the counselor's gaze. If it wasn't for her job, Berdie might almost remind Alex of the type of person she would have been friends with, years and years ago, before the travel became constant and she still had friends outside the cartel. She sighs, and like it takes a lot of effort, adds, "For everything."

Piper waits in Alex's bunk while she's in her session with Berdie, and when Alex finally comes back, she's smiling almost triumphantly, and she doesn't sit down on the bed, just hovers. Piper raises her eyebrows. "How'd it go?"

"Great," Alex replies, which isn't an adjective she's ever used to describe a counseling session. "I'm done."

"Done, like...?"

"Like, finished. Cured. No longer certifiable. Out of the bell jar. Etc." She grins, sardonically holding her hand out to Piper. "C'mon, you gotta give it up for that."

Piper smiles back, tamping down a strange, instinctive concern. She dutifully slaps her palm against Alex's, having to lean up to do it. "Why are you standing?'

Instead of answering, Alex says, "So there was something I was going to maybe do on Christmas. I was going to play it off like it was your gift, but I wanted...I almost asked..." She trails off for a moment, smile tilting and turning almost sheepish. "If you wanted to be my weird prison girlfriend again."

It's the last thing Piper's expecting. She scoots back on the bed, leaning against the wall so it's easier to look up at Alex, sudden anxiety gripping her. "You...you changed your mind?"

Alex's face softens. "No. Not at all. It just seemed...unnecessary. Like we already were, without asking. But now I guess maybe I should double check with you..." She smirks. "You my prison wife or what, Pipes?"

It feels like it's been years since Piper was asking a similar question, since Alex said yes and gave Piper everything she had wanted, only for her to immediately start ripping it to shreds.

But Alex is right; this time, it's barely a question. It doesn't do any good for Piper to obsess over whether she deserves this or not; she already has it. "Yeah." She smiles, easily. "I am."

Alex's face lights up. "Good." She extends her hand, palm open, fingers waiting. "Let's go."

Piper takes her hand and lets Alex lead her away, tugging her through the prison like they're weaving back through time, shedding months of pain and uncertainty, until once again they're bursting into the chapel, ready and wanting, and Alex fists the front of her shirt and pulls Piper into her.

Alex pulls off Piper's shirt and she doesn't even mind; she can't hear the muttering of her tattoos over everything else.

"God, I missed you," Alex gasps against her between kisses, breathy and frantic. "I missed you like this."

Piper's got both hands on Alex's face, and she kisses her hard, feeling like they could make the world shake with this, with their sheer force of love and desire and need. Somehow they manage to stumble their way behind the altar, and once they're on the ground, Piper on her knees between Alex's legs, she pulls Alex's shirt over her head, arching over her so Alex has to ease down onto her back, lying on the floor underneath Piper.

She kisses her way down Alex's chest, loving the feel of her hands swimming through her hair, wanting this to feel a gift. And it's fine, she's fine, she doesn't even remember what's waiting until she gets there, when her hands come against rough, thick scar tissue.

It shouldn't matter; Piper's gotten herself used to the scar on Alex's face, but she hasn't seen this one. She leaves her hands where they are, doesn't recoil, but she lifts her head enough to look. She inhales once, sharply, it shoots panic to her lungs. Her palms start to feel wet, slick with blood that isn't there anymore, and now she does snatch them away, just as her whole body starts shaking.

Alex lets out a throaty, frustrated groan. "Really, Pipes? Still?" She sits up a little, irritation and hurt warring on her expression, but they give up as soon as she sees Piper, wiped out by concern. "Piper? Hey, hey, look at me, it's okay..."

Piper closes her eyes, so tight it hurts; her chest feels heavy, like there's no room for air, and all of a sudden she feels fingers circle her wrist and it sets her off, an alarm screaming through her whole body. She wrenches out of the grip, a whimper jerking itself free from her throat as Alex comes closer, trying to calm her, but all she sees is the scar arched across her stomach. Alex touches her shoulder and Piper thrashes away, cowering, because all she can think about is that day...

He'd cut her in half.

That's what Piper kept thinking, afterwards, when her hands were itchy with dry blood and the ambulance was long gone. Alex had been laying on the ground, torn in half, and there was no way she could stay alive after that.

Piper's hands start flying across her own torso, trembling and urgent, pressing her fingers to spots where she knows there are tattoos, words Alex has said since she came back from the hospital. Proof she's been here.

She never expected Alex to live. That's all it is. Sometimes even now, months later, Piper gets sick and panicked when Alex isn't right in front of her. She's never stopped to examine that, why she's nearly knocked sideways with relief every time she sees Alex after any length of absence.

She should have died. The thought floats, unbidden and unwanted, through Piper's head. It won't shut up.

It felt right, in some sick sort of way, when she thought Alex was gone. Not because Alex deserved to die...but because Piper deserved to lose her.

But Alex is here, alive, right now, and she's rubbing Piper's back and telling her to breathe; slowly, Piper regains some control, and as soon as she's done hyperventilating she starts to sob.

"Pipes..." Alex is pulling her shirt back on, probably trying to hide the scar from Piper's sight, and that makes her feel terrible.

"I'm sorry..." Piper shrugs away when Alex tries to put an arm around her, furious at herself for ruining this. "I'm really sorry, Alex, I didn't mean...I don't mind the scar, I just..."

"It's okay," Alex voice is quiet, strained, but she reaches out to stroke Piper's hair.

"No, it's not..." Piper wipes her eyes, sets her jaw, and makes herself look at Alex. "I'm really sorry. I wasn't expecting that, and I just started thinking about..." Piper's voice cracks. She wants to explain, but she can feel herself careening toward an edge, close to losing it again. "After the ambulance left, I didn't...I didn't wash my hands, Alex. Not for hours. There was so much blood, and...and they were asking me all these questions about seeing Aydin and I could barely talk to them, I just kept staring at all that fucking blood..." She's shaking again, the words coming out in a hysterical free fall, so it takes a moment to notice that Alex has moved away from her, her eyes big and uncertain.

"What are you talking about?"

"I...what?"

"What are you talking about? When did you see Aydin, why were your hands..." She trails off, shaking her head slowly, like she's rejecting everything Piper's saying. "What the fuck are you talking about, Piper?"