Author's Note: I've always headcanoned that Nicky physically can't have children. Maybe it's me imposing my own life stuff onto her as a subconscious coping mechanism. I have no idea. But I did watch Antibirth the other day, which is ironic, since I've always headcanoned this about Nicky. Also, Anon, your requested story is coming, I promise. I'm taking requests now, people. So if you're interested, send me a message. But I'm done rambling now. Soundtrack: playlist?list=PLtJcZcvt9JqnqjE-CbPnUETegWxJYRxjO
WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of abuse, mentions of infertility, blood, mentions of drug use, and self-harm.
Lorna paces outside the greenhouse. There's a part of her that wants revenge, so badly. She knows it's wrong.
Revenge only ever causes pain. Even if it creates momentary elation. Besides, getting revenge for revenge is even worse.
Yes, she now recognizes Nicky's gossip as both an act of revenge, and an attempt to make sure Vince is a good husband. That's what makes her feel even worse. The guilt.
She's done wrong. But there's still a part of her deep inside that aches for revenge. To tell Nicky's secrets. Gather the family at the greenhouse and shout them all.
She knows enough of them. She knows of Nicky's childhood abuse. That she can't have children, something that both saddens and relieves her. The fact that she has a shelter cat named Jasper, that her old nanny occasionally brings to visitation with her.
However, it wouldn't have the same affect. These people likely either don't care or know already. Besides, they aren't her romantic partners. That Lorna knows of, at least.
Another stab of fury at that thought. Lorna storms off to the other side of the yard. The yard is mostly empty. It's freezing outside. Lorna doesn't notice.
There's a large oak tree, tall and strong. Lorna approaches it, and begins driving her fists into the bark as hard as she can. She sees her hands growing swollen and bloody, but she doesn't stop.
She hears someone behind her clear their throat. She jumps, before slowly turning. If it's a guard, she'll get sent to psych.
It isn't a guard. It's Nicky. She looks pitying and nervous.
"Uh…Hey." She shuffles, obviously uncomfortable. "I got some adhesive strips and alcohol wipes. Let's go back inside and get you fixed up."
Lorna's brow furrows. Why is Nicky suddenly being nice to her again? Numbly, she follows her inside.
She sits on Nicky's bunk, as the blonde rifles through her things. She lets out a noise of triumph, and holds up some medical supplies. Lorna can't help but find it ironic. The junkie with no regard for her own life has the supplies and the kindness to take care of others.
But, maybe that's a part of it. She takes care of others, because she doesn't understand how to take care of herself. Lorna feels her throat tighten. She knows that's the most likely scenario.
Nicky, though coarse and often unintentionally rude, is so kind. She loves with a passion Lorna wishes she has. Nicky cares so much about the important things.
She had always been the child bringing in strays, and sharing her food in school, and bandaging the other kids on the playground when they got hurt. Like now, Lorna thinks with a small smile.
Nicky's love, of course, comes from pain. Growing up with an abusive mother and step-father caused her to be caring and sympathetic with children. Even as a child, herself. Nicky has never wanted to ever carry her own child; the idea terrifies her. But upon finding out that she physically cannot, she felt a mixture of intense relief and horrible pain. The option would have been nice.
Lorna shakes the thoughts from her mind. Tearing up over her ex-girlfriend's past would be really awkward right now. She stares, dumbfounded as Nicky cleans her cuts with the antiseptic wipes, before proceeding to carefully place adhesive strips on them. They have little cats on them. Of course, they have little cats on them.
Lorna giggles. Nicky looks into her eyes, before beginning to laugh as well. Neither of them really knows what they or the other are laughing at, but it doesn't matter right now. For this one moment, they are ok.