Chapter Twenty
Lorna swallowed a thick volume of saliva which had been making it a challenge to breathe properly. Being pressed into Nicky's chest by Nicky herself was undeniably comforting. Yet it also caused her to wonder if Nicky truly hadn't believed she wouldn't try to end her own life. Was Nicky so scared Lorna would give into the occasional suicidal thought that popped her in mind that she didn't feel safe releasing Lorna from her embrace? She wanted to question Nicky on that, though, also hadn't wanted to unintentionally initiate an argument by doing so.
So, she took in a breath and pressed a kiss onto the cotton material where her face had been resting atop of the last few minutes. The pounding of Nicky's heartbeat underneath her told her how exceptionally worried and apprehensive she was over this whole situation. Lorna swallowed a lump and felt a knot shape into the pit of her stomach. She didn't mean to cause Nicky to worry so much, to have an intense amount of apprehension when it came to her. But she felt out of control with her thoughts, her mind, her fucking self-hatred side that made her unintentionally hurt the people she loved. The people she wanted to make happy yet couldn't properly do so.
Therapy was her only hope. Her only hope to regain control and have a healthy relationship with the woman she loved more than anything on this planet. Her only hope to possibly beat whatever mental condition it was she had been dealing with for the majority of her life. But the echoing of Susan's comment about this only being the first session of many tightened her chest right up. That meant she would have to continuously discuss topics, feelings, emotions, she really hadn't want to bring light to. She would have to face things she spent years and years burying deep within herself. It was a terrifying thought. However, now that she was able to pull slightly away from Nicky and get a precise look at her, Lorna knew she had to push herself with the therapy. She had to push past the fear and trepidation. Nicky deserved to have a girlfriend who would be there for her just as Nicky was there for she.
Lorna sighed and cupped her hands around each of Nicky's cheeks now that Nicky's grip on her own body had lessened somewhat. Each hand caressed palm-side down along the length of either cheek. It was clearly going to be a long process and she was already exhausted at the thought alone of how lengthy said process would be. "I love you, hon," she whispered with her lips lightly touching against one of the cheeks she had been caressing. A quick, warm, kiss was planted on the spot after and then Lorna shifted herself onto the cushion beside Nicky and brought her attention back onto Dr. Fischer and the information being flung her way.
"Erm, exactly how many sessions do ya think there will be? Because my mind is real real messed up, Fischer, and I don't see how a few appointments with you is gonna fix that, ya know?" Lorna raised an eyebrow and upstretched her arms to fold across her chest. Air puffed through her mouth between words as she sat staring fiercely at the therapist opposite she and Nicky.
Though the statement enticed Nicky to take a protective hold of one of Lorna's hands, she kept her mouth zipped. Nicky recognized repeatedly telling Lorna to stop degrading herself wouldn't magically take away the years and years of self-loathing that she harbored. She inhaled a silent breath and bit down on her tongue to assist in refraining from butting into the conversation.
The sympathy on Susan's face only intensified per hearing Lorna's disheartening queries regarding the appointments alongside the degrading remarks of her mental health. This was exactly the reason she deemed the stigma of mental health and therapy desperately needed to be changed. "I can't say a specific amount yet, Lorna. But I can assure you it'll be more than a few. I usually see patients anywhere from once a week to once a month for years at a time," Susan disclosed with a hand gesturing in the air simultaneously.
Once a week? Once a week? Lorna's mind screamed out the words in utter disbelief. Who could possibly need therapy every week? Who could fucking afford therapy once a damn week? She couldn't imagine having to sit through an hour long session like this one every single week for years. That seemed insane to Lorna. Absolutely insane. But maybe that was fitting since she was absolutely insane. Deep down, Lorna sensed she needed an infinite amount of therapy if she wanted to even make a dent in her faulty wired mind. However, to admit it out loud—to hear Susan Fischer just say how the majority of her clients came to see her on a regular basis for years overwhelmed Lorna on a level she couldn't begin to explain. Admitting it out loud was not even on her radar right yet. It was too soon for her to admit she needed that amount of fucking therapy.
"You, uh, you see some people once a week?" Her voice cracked at the end which inflected the disbelief she experienced at the mere thought.
She didn't want her life to revolve around therapy. Didn't want to make Nicky's life revolve around it either. She felt her throat closing up with each thought tearing through her mind. Instinctively she grabbed her Mountain Dew, chucked the lid off, and guzzled down a decent volume. The cool temperature of the soda was enough to open up her throat some. She set the bottle back where it was and opened her mouth to breathe in fresh air.
"I do. It depends on the client and what exactly they're dealing with for me to determine how often to schedule an appointment. And I base the decision off the answers you give me in the welcome packet I've handed you to fill out," Susan told her, pointing her hand at the very stack of papers she had seen sitting on the table in front of Lorna. "That's why you need to fill it out open and honestly, Lorna. No matter how hard it is or how much you don't want to face whatever feelings you're trying to push down. If you want the correct treatment plan, you have to be truthful. Brutally truthful. Does that make sense?"
Once the pair were in Nicky's car on their way back to their apartment, it felt like an entire lifetime had gone by to Lorna. She couldn't wait to get the hell out of there and the second they got inside of Nicky's vehicle Lorna pushed back the passenger seat and lay her head against the head rest connected to it. Fatigue took over her entire body. She felt as though a ton or so of bricks were being held against her body making moving quite the challenge. However, now that she was reclined in the car next to Nicky she had no desire to move her body anyway.
The car roared to life as soon as Nicky turned the key in its ignition. She turned her head to glance over at Lorna and her throat immediately grew raw when she took note of the complete exhaustion Lorna's eyes blatantly excreted. Before even switching the handle into reverse, Nicky reached a hand across to take hold of Lorna's with. A tender squeeze she gave to it. "I know today was a lot, kid. But I hope you know how fucking proud I am of you for going through with the appointment. I mean it. I am so damn proud of you for wanting to move forward with regular therapy. It definitely won't be easy but it'll really help you. And you deserve to be helped, baby, you really do. And I'm gonna support you through this all. That's a promise," she softly assured Lorna, retaining her stare on her. Her thumb stroked soothingly along the inside of Lorna's hand when she saw the faint twitching of her lips.
The softness of Nicky's hand pressing into the flesh of her cheek innately had Lorna nuzzling closer towards it, closing her eyes in the process. Breath hitched in her throat knowing how true to her word Nicky was. Emotions came guzzling to the surface. There were not enough 'I love you's' in the world for Lorna to tell Nicky as a means to display how extremely appreciative she was of Nicky's endless love and support. All she could do was put forth all of her energy and effort into the therapy sessions regardless of the difficulties they might make her face.
"I'm just real glad Officer Fischer is my therapist—I always liked her when we were in Litchfield. I feel a little less scared about therapy now…at least Fischer is a genuine person, ya know? I can tell she ain't just there for the money and that makes it kinda not so terrifying to talk to her about personal things. I mean I still don't know how ready I am to talk about certain stuff but at least when, or if, I am I can trust Officer Fischer with it. And you too, hon."
A sad, soft, smile molded to Nicky's face hearing that. It was relieving to hear Lorna rather optimistic about the therapy, something even only a month ago was a mere impossible dream. She gave a tender pat to Lorna's cheek while also continuing to hold her gaze. Compared to how Lorna was in prison this same time the previous year Nicky believed she had come a long way since then. Prison Lorna would have never agreed to meeting with a therapist—hell, she would have never admitted she needed one. Okay, Nicky corrected, it was more old Litchfield Lorna who likely wouldn't have considered the mere thought of therapy. Maximum security Lorna gradually helped to shift Lorna into realizing just how much she did need help outside of herself and Nicky couldn't express how vastly grateful she was for that shift.
Coming out of her busy mind, Nicky gave a final pat to Lorna's cheek then released her hand from it altogether. She leaned forward until their lips innately locked together due to the closeness allowing them to glide into one another in a warm and delicate kiss. "I'm glad she is, too, kid. She's a good person and I think she'll really help you," Nicky started off once she had unlocked their lips and inched her face backwards enough to properly peer into Lorna's brown eyes.
The corners of her mouth curved into an empathetic smile. Two strands of lengthy brown hair fell upon the crevices of Lorna's eyes which Nicky lovingly stroked away with the tips of her two thumbs. "It's okay, doll, you don't have to face everything all at once. This is a process, it'll take a lotta time and patience. Ya just gotta start talking about what you're feeling. Like, for instance, if tonight you feel sad over a random show we watch instead of ignoring the sadness, you need to tell me about it. I'm not sayin' that'll happen tonight but just like an example of how ya can slowly stop pushing your feelings and emotions away. Does that make sense to ya, babe?"
Lorna couldn't resist from chuckling at the example Nicky shared. It was highly ludicrous, incredibly off the wall, but also completely and utterly something she knew had a possibility of occurring. The smallest—dumbest—of things had the ability of making Lorna lose her mind, both literally and metaphorically. "Yeah, I get what you're sayin' hon. I don't think that'll happen but if it does I'll try not to shove the feelin's and shit away," she nodded intuitively and allowed out another chuckle.
Quickly, however, the chuckling subsided and Lorna suddenly grew serious. She lifted her hands up and framed them tenderly around each of Nicky's cheeks, steadying Nicky's face in front of her own. Fingers rubbed warmly along the flesh of each cheek. "I love you so much, honey. Really. And I am real grateful to have your support in all this therapy shit. You're the most patient person in the world to be able to deal with me every day, Nicky, with the biggest, warmest, kindest heart. I said this before but I'll say it again; you are truly an angel, my angel, and I will cherish you until I take my last damn breath," Lorna murmured, her breath softly trickling onto Nicky's face from the short distance between them.
"Aw, shit, kid," Nicky sputtered out, her cheeks heating up fiercely as a result of how Lorna's tender words made her melt inside. Her body tingled the second a warm sensation had come over her. She placed a hand on her chest holding it there to cease her heart from beating right out of it. "You're truly too fucking sweet for this damn planet, Lorna Morello. God, doll, you're gonna rot my teeth with all your sweet compliments. Seriously. I can already feel cavities forming," she said and the pair shared a warm laugh.
Pushing her face even closer to Nicky's, Lorna smashed her lips over hers for a hot peck and then rapidly released it. A smile left in place of where Nicky's lips just rested upon her own. "Well, ya betta get used to it. I'll never stop rotting your teeth with compliments, hon. You've been the only person in my life who's never judged me for my faulty mind and I just—I can't say enough how much I love you for that, how much you mean to me. I will spend what's left a my life showering you with all the love I have and all the compliments possible."
Tears unexpectedly spilled over Nicky's eyelids at that point. The two had been sitting in her car in the parking lot for likely fifteen minutes now and Nicky still had no plans of putting the car in reverse anytime soon. No, instead, she unfastened her seatbelt and turned completely around in her seat so she could more easily encircle her arms around Lorna's waist. Immediately, she pulled Lorna closer—as close as she could with the middle console separating them—and doused the top of her head in the warmest of kisses.
"Fuck," her voice cracked from the plethora of emotions oozing throughout her body. Another round of kisses were placed all over the top of Lorna's head. "This is why you're too fucking pure for this world, this universe. Why I get so damn pissed when I hear other people have been bullying you or teasing you. Why I fucking can't stand when you berate yourself all the time. You are just a sweet, pure, angelic soul who desperately needs to be loved. A precious soul who just was born with some kinda mental condition that makes you do things out of your control. If you didn't have whatever mental condition you have, I know damn well you would have never made choices resulting in you getting sent to prison. And, maybe, you might also take care a yourself if ya didn't have this mental illness. Maybe you would value yourself like you should. God, fuckin' shit. I hate this mental illness—I wanna know what it is so I can help ya recover from it. So we can try to heal it and maybe then you will be able to see how fucking good you are, Lorna. Because you are fucking good—you're great, doll. Incredibly great and you deserve to see that in yourself."
Coffee brewed in the kitchen late that afternoon. Caffeine after three o'clock probably wasn't the wisest thing for Lorna to be consuming when falling asleep at night had already been quite the challenge, yet, she couldn't resist from preparing herself a cup of it. She prepared one for her and another for Nicky. Nicky's was easy, just a mug and the plain black coffee poured into it. Her own required a bit more work. Two packets of sweetener and a little bit of half-and-half creamer mixed in with the darkly-colored liquid. Lorna stirred it together with a teaspoon she begged Nicky she needed when the pair had gone shopping for household items the week before they moved into this apartment.
Once her coffee turned from the normal translucent shade of black to a golden brown color Lorna went ahead and carried both mugs into the living room with her. Before handing Nicky hers, she placed her own onto a coaster on one of the end tables then walked towards the older woman and offered the remaining mug to her. Nicky graciously took it and Lorna settled onto the sofa right beside her scooting closer until she was easily able to rest her head onto Nicky's shoulder.
Nicky smiled at her after having a sip of her coffee and feeling the weight of Lorna against her. Naturally, she wrapped her arm around Lorna's waist tugging her even slightly closer. Lips found their way onto the side of her face and pressed onto its flesh in a warm, tender, kiss. "Ready for a snuggle are ya, kid?" The bobbing of Lorna's head gave her the answer she already presumed. Nicky's smile widened a bit more. Arms secured further around Lorna.
A few kisses more were peppered onto Lorna's cheek. "Are ya comfortable the way ya are, doll? Or ya wanna lay on my chest instead?"
Lorna lifted her head enough to peer back into Nicky's eyes. Cheeks reddened faintly and a sheepish smile spread its away across her face. She didn't voice a response right away first deciding on retrieving her coffee she had set aside on the end-table. Several decent sized sips were taken of the warm liquid before the cup was placed right back down.
Chuckling softly, Nicky took that as her que to lie back against the sofa and then she pulled Lorna down atop her so that Lorna's head naturally fell onto her chest where she knew Lorna had desperately been wanting to be cuddled up against. That was Lorna's safe space and Nicky wouldn't have it any other way. She raked her fingers lovingly through thick brown strands of hair cascading out of Lorna's scalp. Lips melded into a warm smile the longer she repeated the soothing motion. "You're so precious, Lorna. No matter how much your stubbornness gets on every last one of my nerves, I will always fuckin' love you. I mean that. Okay? Don't ever doubt my love for you, doll, because that's the one thing in life I know will never go away. Nothing can make me stop loving you."
Nuzzling closer against Nicky's chest Lorna slightly leaned her head backwards to gaze affectionately up into her big brown eyes with. She placed the tips of some of her fingers onto the bottom of Nicky's chin and stroked them tenderly along its flesh. A matching smile shaped onto her face. Lorna could feel her heart bursting with an excess of compassion for both Nicky herself and the heartfelt words she had just spoken. "You believe in soulmates then, hon, like me. Soulmates can't unlove each other no matter how messed up one of them might be. And you're not the messed up one, I'm not tryna say that. Just a generalization is all," her voice murmured as her mouth inched closer to Nicky's face until it innately pressed onto the delicate lips attached to it.
Multiple soft and slow kisses were shared between the two before Lorna gradually pulled away and framed Nicky's cheeks in her hands. Eyes continued to warmly stare up into the bigger brown ones of her girlfriend. "I will always love you, too, hon. And I'll try to not be so stubborn all the time. I hate frustrating and upsetting you, I really do. I don't mean to do it intentionally. I just, I do things without thinking sometimes and I don't know why. I wanna be betta. I hope the therapy helps with all this because I really want us to have a good, healthy, relationship this time. I don't want to be toxic to you anymore. I don't want to hurt you like I did millions of times before."
Breath faintly hitched halfway into Nicky's throat. Before prison—before meeting Lorna—Nicky didn't even consider the possibility of having a meaningful relationship with another woman. Soulmate talk was much less a consideration. Wasn't the kind of thing Nicky believed in, either. However, Lorna changed all of that for her from the first day they laid eyes on one another. The old her would scoff at the cliché of this all—scoff at the fact the new Nicky fell in love the second her eyes landed on Lorna that first day she saw her skittishly enter inside of Litchfield nearly four years ago. Scoff that now she believed soulmates were real and she actually had one.
Nicky swallowed and leaned closer to Lorna, brushing their foreheads together in the gentlest of touches. "You've turned me into such a cheesy, mush-ball of a cliche, Lorna. And to make me even cheesier, I wouldn't change a thing about this. I love you so much and I would never wanna go back to the life I led before you. Before prison. I like who I am with you much better than the heroin addict I used to be. Just don't tell anyone I'm not big tough Nichols anymore, yeah?" She chuckled and felt Lorna chuckle as well from the vibration of Lorna's lips against her own.
It was heartwarming to see Lorna acting rather carefree and playful for the first time in a long while. Nicky couldn't resist the smile her lips curved into once she had locked them with Lorna's for a quick peck then released it. Her thumb pressed onto the flesh of Lorna's cheek tracing little circles around it in a soft manner. "I know you don't purposefully try to be stubborn and get on my nerves, doll. It has to do with your mental illness and that's why I am so glad and so proud of you for giving therapy a real good try. As long as you're open and honest like Fischer said, I really do think the therapy will help you. We will have a healthy and loving relationship, baby, we just both gotta be honest with each other. We both have to open up more and share our feelings no matter how hard that is. Neither one a us are good at being vulnerable, huh?"
Another light-hearted laugh was shared between the two women. Lorna moved her lips up until they came to Nicky's nose where they pressed down on its tip in a gentle, comforting, kiss. "I think me and you are real pro's at self-destruction, what do ya think hon?" She placed another comforting kiss over Nicky's nose and then removed one hand from her cheek so she could wrap a protective arm around Nicky's torso instead. "I wanna take care a you, Nicky, just like ya always do for me. I know ya still sometimes think about heroin and I wanna help ya not give into that, ya know?" Her arm gave an automatic squeeze to the torso it was encircling.
"Of course, babe. We'll take care of each other. That sounds perfect to me. You're perfect to me and believe me, I want to stay as far away from heroin as possible because I don't want to fuck things up between us. I don't want you to ever fucking witness me high. Not out here."
Lorna rubbed a hand along Nicky's spine when she noticed a twinge of sadness shine through her eyes before it quickly faded away. Her smile shifted into a frown. Nicky had things of her own she needed to deal with and work on and Lorna was determined to be there to support her through that the same way Nicky was supporting her with the therapy. "I won't leave or abandon you if there ever came a time where ya might have a slip up. I'm not sayin' ya will, hon, but if that were to happen I want you to know I'll still be here. I'm so sorry if, in the past, I ever made ya feel abandoned over your drug addiction. I'm so so sorry, my sweet Nicky," she murmured, voice cracking at the end when raw emotion began to express itself through it.
A snuffle was sucked in through her nose. Lorna secured her arm tighter around Nicky's torso and brushed her lips warmly upon one of her cheeks. "I know ya didn't choose to have an addiction just like I didn't choose to have a faulty mind. And I promise from now on I will not ever fuckin' judge ya for that ever again. I'll be here to give you as much support as you do for me, honey. I swear on my grave I will. I love you more than anyone and I don't want to risk losing you. So whatever I can do to help ya, hon, just let me know."
Emotions became too powerful and Nicky had no control over the tears that forced their way from her eyes. She wrapped her own arms fiercely around Lorna's waist and lovingly yanked her back down onto her chest. Her head tilted just enough for Nicky to be able to drop a warm kiss over the top of Lorna's head. "Just having you here in my arms is helpful, babe. Living with you and supporting you through therapy helps me, too. I love you with all my damn heart, Lorna. Always and forever. We're gonna be just fine together. I know it."
Weeks flew by. The two had been settling into their apartment and new routine rather seamlessly. Lorna was able to obtain a new job working the night shift alongside Nicky at the local convenient shop which gave them even more opportunity to spend time together. When the pair weren't busy tending to their jobs at the store they were either relaxing together in the comfort of their own place or attending one of Lorna's therapy sessions that currently occurred once per week for the time being. Or on the occasional Saturday afternoon taking a trip up to the max facility to visit with Red.
Visits with Red were rather hard on Nicky. It appeared ever since the prison had moved her to the Florida cell-block the condition of her dementia had rapidly worsened. Half the time Red sat on the other side of the glass staring at the two of them as if they were strangers, as if she hadn't spent four years in Litchfield with them—mothering and mentoring them. The other half of the time Red would repeatedly ask the same question of whether the two were getting along on the outside, questioning over and over if they had found a place yet. No matter how many times Nicky or Lorna gave her an answer, Red would ask it again a few minutes later.
Each time they left and got back inside of the car, before even putting the key into the ignition, Nicky would sit blankly in front of the steering wheel gazing out of the windshield with an overwhelming sensation of grief coming over her. Only a minute or two of sitting there and then her eyes always flooded with an excessive volume of tears. There wasn't much she could do to avoid it and even if there was, she didn't have the energy to do so. The emotions were too daunting, took up the majority of said energy for her to use any of it on ceasing the tears.
This visit was no different. Two hours sitting opposite of a glass window separating them from Red as if Red even had the stamina to become violent. Fuck, Nicky thought, even when Red was her normal lucid self she was never a violent person. Red wouldn't hurt a damn fly let alone another person. At least not without good reason. But, regardless, they remained only able to visit through a glass window. The same played out with Red staring at them, clearly unsure of who the two were, and then an hour later some switch clicked and Red suddenly remembered her prison daughters. Started asking the repetitive questions she asked at every visit and the cycle continued.
It ended swiftly, feeling more like only two minutes had passed rather than two hours in Nicky's mind. The glass meant no goodbye hugs or any sort of physical contact which made it that much harder having to leave Red behind. Nicky stood there watching with broken eyes as one of the guards led Red away, who had to hold onto his arm to steady her gait from the apparent new issue she had with keeping herself balanced. The realization shattered Nicky's heart even more than it already was. She couldn't even wait to get to the car to cry this time; the tears were already starting to flow and a sob forced its way through her throat. This was becoming almost impossible to witness—Nicky loathed watching her chosen mother regress further and further at every visit and the prison blatantly allowing it to happen without intervening.
Lorna wrapped a soothing arm around Nicky's shoulder and pulled her in for a tender embrace. There weren't any words she could say to make this any better or easier for the older woman. She knew that, however, she couldn't just stand there and let Nicky suffer in silence like it was incredibly evident she was. Her chin lovingly pressed onto the top of Nicky's head inadvertently tucking it into the crook of her neck. "I'm so sorry ya gotta see her like this, hon. I know it ain't easy. I wish there was something we could do for her. Red needs us but she's stuck here and it ain't fair," Lorna whispered gently, gradually swaying back and forth as she held Nicky close against her own body. Kisses were comfortingly pressed on the top of Nicky's head.
Despite the spiraling emotions and the urge to throw every item in her sight, Nicky ignored the desire and allowed her body to relax into Lorna's warm arms. Arms that were the only thing to keep her from completely falling apart right this second. She nuzzled her face further into the cotton covered chest underneath it. Tears remained pouring along her cheeks; sobs sporadically shook out of her throat. Nicky snaked her own arms fiercely around Lorna's abdomen, "No, doll, it ain't fuckin' fair what's happening to ma. She should be out here with us where we could take care a her and bring her to a see doctor but this stupid corrupted prison just threw her away into fucking Florida where there's no help at all. She needs us more than anything but we can't do shit. This planet sucks. People fucking suck."
A frown morphed upon Lorna's face. She felt at a loss for words so she pulled Nicky closer and planted another round of gentle kisses upon the top of her head. Every word Nicky said was the truth. Litchfield was undisputedly a corrupted prison system if they thought throwing mentally unwell women into their own cell-block was going to do anything to make them better. It wasn't fair and certainly wasn't right. Lorna sighed, rubbing one hand up and down the length of Nicky's back.
"What about compassionate release?" Lorna unpredictably blurted out when she suddenly remembered an elderly woman being given exactly that back when they were in original Litchfield a couple of years prior for suffering almost identical issues as Red suffered now. "Like what they did for that one lady—er, I think her name was Jimmy? She had dementia like Red and they gave her that compassionate release thing. Maybe we can convince them to do the same for Red."
For a moment Nicky felt the tears cease and the sobbing fade to sniffling. That was an idea she hadn't even considered but now that Lorna had mentioned it there came a faint sense of hope. She inverted her bottom lip out of habit and lifted her head from Lorna's chest to stare her right in the eyes. "I mean it wouldn't hurt to try, huh? Maybe that'll work. We could talk to the warden or whoever the fuck is in charge a this shithole and beg them to have mercy on ma. The least I could do for her after all the good she's done for me. Then she can come live with us and we can get her proper medical care. She might do better if she's living with us where she's actually loved and cared about, yeah kid?"
Lorna nodded with a sad smile. She leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss onto one of Nicky's temples. "I think she'll do a lot betta if she's at home with us, hon. I always believed love is the greatest healer of all. I mean, ya know, when babies are neglected they get that thing called the failure to thrive? Or somethin' like that. Doesn't that prove ya need love to thrive and survive?"
"I think you're on to something, doll," Nicky agreed and returned a gentle kiss onto Lorna's temple.
A heavy sigh released itself from Nicky's body. The previous emotions plaguing her body gradually began to dissipate. She knew if they were somehow able to get the warden to agree to compassionately release Red then there was a chance they could help her become the lively woman she once was. And that was enough to shape a faint smile onto her face. There was hope for Red and that was all Nicky needed to realize to regain her strength. She was determined to obtain the compassionate release for Red and she wouldn't stop until that was exactly what happened. Red was more than deserving of being the hell out of the decrepit prison system.
It took a month for them to get in and speak with the warden about the possibility of compassionate release for Red. Though Nicky had been skeptical over the whole thing, she was rather surprised when he actually agreed to releasing Red. However, another month passed by after their discussion before Red was officially released from the prison. The day came and both women couldn't be happier driving up to Litchfield max for likely their last time ever. Once Red came to the apartment with them there would be no need to go back there anymore.
A whole thirty minutes was all it took for them go and retrieve Red from the prison. Much quicker than either women expected considering it took two hours on the day of their releases' to actually be released. Neither questioned it, though, wanting to get out of there as quick as possible so they could help Red into their car, drive her home, and assist in getting her settled—acclimated. Nicky chose to sit in the backseat of the car next to Red to secretly keep an eye on her even though she told Red it was just because she missed her. Of course she had missed Red, undeniably missed her—missed being near her, missed her warm, motherly, embrace. But she also knew Red wasn't the same person she used to be and needed to be watched a lot more closely.
The drive went by smoothly and it wasn't long before the car was being pulled into a parking spot in the apartment complex's parking lot. Lorna placed the stick in park, turned the ignition off, and then got out to assist Nicky with Red. They took the elevator up to the third floor where their apartment resided and since Nicky was busy holding Red's hand to keep her balanced, Lorna grabbed her key from her purse and used it to open the door.
She flicked the lights on the second they all entered inside and then grabbed Red's other hand as she and Nicky carefully led her over to the sofa. Each woman sat on either side of the Russian matron both grabbing a hold of one of her hands in theirs. Red smiled at the comforting sensation, peering between the pair of them as she gave each of their hands a tender squeeze. "You girls have a lovely apartment here," her smile widened upon complimenting her new surroundings.
It still seemed rather surreal to Red that she was truly out of prison for good. She had been there for so long that she believed her end days would be spent behind bars. Even more so did she believe such fact after what went down with the riot. She was supposed to spend the rest of her life in Litchfield maximum security prison—she remembered clear as day the judge declaring so in the trial she had after the riot happened. Eyebrows curved ponderously above her blue eyes which stared unreadably between her two girls. "I don't understand how I'm sitting in this lovely apartment with you two, my precious girls. I still have oh what—a good sixty-seven years left on my sentence? How did that get reduced to none? I mean I know I haven't been all there lately but I do know for a fact sixty-seven years have not passed," she pointed out and chuckled at her own comment.
The younger women copied Red's chuckle with their own two. Nicky couldn't resist from the smile threatening to mold itself to her face. She released her hand from Red's and instead wrapped an arm securely around her shoulder giving it a tender squeeze. Her head leaned closer to her surrogate mother's head and cheek naturally pressed against cheek. "Well, ma, Lorna had the wise idea of convincing the warden to give ya compassionate release and he agreed to it. So you don't have to worry about being in that shithole anymore. You're free to live with us now, ma and we're gonna get ya all taken care of. I've been looking up doctors who specialize in neurology and shit, see if we can set up an appointment for ya. Maybe they can give a second opinion on the dementia, yeah? Or at least get ya on a treatment plan to stop it from progressing so much."
A sigh escaped Nicky as she tried her hardest to sound as hopeful as possible. She was hopeful but also completely terrified there would be nothing any doctor could do for Red. Her arm instinctively tightened around Red's shoulder the more her mind ran wild with every scenario under the sun. She turned her face slightly and brushed her lips softly upon the flesh of her mother's cheek.
Red mirrored Nicky's gesture by securing a protective arm around her upper torso. Gentle fingertips stroked repeatedly up and down the length of where her arm held its grasp. Being lucid and seeing how much it blatantly hurt Nicky to witness her regression with whatever illness it was clutching her in such a suffocating manner hurt a lot worse than the illness itself. Her daughter's pain always hurt worse than anything physical. Red could handle an illness but to see Nicky struggling—that was merely too much to bear. She would do anything to take the hurt away from her Nicky.
"I love you girls so much," her voice much more soft-spoken than it used to be. Lips twitched into a saddened smile; she nodded her head, continuing to stroke her fingers along Nicky's spine. "Sure, my Nicky, I think seeing a real doctor and not a prison appointed one would be a wise idea. There could be another reason for my memory issues but we all know how terrible the prison doctors are, they would never pay for actual medical tests to confirm such a theory."
"I have a good feelin' about ya seein' another doctor about this, Red," Lorna chimed her way into the conversation after having sat silently for the majority of it. Her hand squeezed the Russian matron's comfortingly and a warm smile shaped onto her face while she peered at her. "I bet they'll find something that's causing it and be able to get rid of it so you'll be all betta."
Turning her head towards the brunette, Red returned her smile with one of her own. She always appreciated the optimism that emanated from Lorna. It made the dreary Litchfield a little less dreary. And now it gave her a little hope that things would work out well for her. Things already began working out since she no longer had to serve time in prison. It could go only up from there, she thought. She hoped. "I believe something good will come of this too, sweet Lorna. Even if I do really have dementia, there might be treatment they can offer me. But either which way I think I'll do a lot better out here with you two darlings than I was in that damn prison. Anyway, enough about that for now, shall we have a cuppa tea? You girls got a teakettle don't ya?" Eyebrows furrowed, stare darting between Lorna and Nicky.
Nicky gave a light-hearted smirk and nodded her head. One final squeeze was given to Red before she released her grip and pushed up off of the sofa. "Yes, ma, we gotta teakettle. I made sure to buy when we moved in because I know how much you love your tea. Wouldn't dare have ya move in here without one," she snickered then took the lead of heading into the kitchen to prepare a kettle of tea for the three of them.
Things were going to be okay now, she told herself, Red was home now and Lorna was getting therapy. Her two loves were safe and home with her; she didn't have to stress so much anymore. The worry didn't have to eat at her the way it had when she didn't have control over the unknown. Having the two women under the same roof as herself, not in prison, meant she could keep a close eye on them and easily tell if something was amiss. That gave her the peace of mind she needed when they were locked away in Litchfield.
"Mhmm…uh-huh."
The mumblings of a neurologist were strangely comforting to Nicky as she sat in a chair near the examination table where Red was sitting in a basic hospital gown awaiting the results of her MRI scan she had done a week prior. Lorna was in the chair next to Nicky's and Nicky felt even more comfort when Lorna's hand cradled around her own. She turned her head in Lorna's direction giving a soft smile when she observed the compassion oozing through Lorna's warm brown eyes.
Peering right back at Nicky Lorna caressed her thumb soothingly along the inside flesh of Nicky's hand. A gentle smile morphed onto her face mirroring the one she witnessed on Nicky's. "Whatever it is, honey, everything will be okay. Red has us to help her with it. Don't stress too much," she murmured, leaning her head closer to the redhead until it naturally landed on her shoulder. Lorna's face turned and lips connected with the skin of Nicky's cheek pressing a tender kiss onto it.
Nicky nodded while nuzzling her head atop Lorna's. She focused her eyes on the doctor's face hoping his expression might give way to what possibly the results could be but it was rather indistinguishable. Air huffed out of her in the form of a heavy sigh. The hand of Lorna's which remained cradled around her own she gave a fierce squeeze to as a means for reassurance.
Moments drew by before the doctor finished peering through the papers containing Red's scan results and placed them down onto the counter right beside where he was sitting. He looked up from his glasses, smiling kindly at the patient sat in front of him. "Well, I have good news. These scan results show exactly what's been causing your sudden onset of dementia. It's not just because of getting older. There's physical proof that you have Frontal Meningioma or in normal words, a brain tumor located on your—"
"Woah, woah, woah," Nicky hurriedly interjected the second the word tumor was brought up. "Back up there, doctor. Ya said ya got good news but how is a fuckin' brain tumor good news? When exactly would any form of tumor be fucking good news?" Automatically she scooted her chair closer to the examination table and grabbed a tight hold of Red's hand with her free one.
Feeling the rising tension from the evident knots forming around where her arm was grasping onto Nicky, Lorna brushed the tips of her fingers softly along those specific spots hoping to stroke them away in some capacity or another. Lines creased onto her forehead as she, too, sat there rather baffled by the doctor's proclamation of Red's results being good news. In what world was a brain tumor good news? Any kind of tumor usually meant cancer and cancer was certainly worse than just dementia. Cancer could be acquainted to a death sentence quite frankly.
The doctor retained his smile and shook his head. He clasped his hands together then picked up the scan results once more holding it up so that all three ladies could have a look at it. He pointed to a particular spot on the paper and opened his mouth to explain, "This right here is the tumor causing you to have this onset of dementia, Mrs. Reznikov. It's a very small tumor on the frontal lobe of your brain and the reason I say this is good news is because these types of tumors are benign. There's no cancer in them despite the symptoms they cause and that makes it rather easy for us to treat it. You'll need to undergo an operation to have this tumor removed and within a few months you should see significant improvement with the dementia. By six months you should likely be completely back to your normal self."
Red's throat suddenly dried up and the brim of her eyes moistened with a batch of tears. Tears of relief, of graciousness. She thought she would never have the chance of a normal life again when first being diagnosed with dementia—or now wrongly diagnosed. Nicky's hand gripping hers Red gave it a warm squeeze. She turned to look at Nicky for a moment and through her tears she smiled at her daughter. After, she returned her stare onto her doctor and nodded her head.
"Indeed that is good news. How soon can I schedule the surgery? I want my life back. I want to be able to remember my girls all the time not just certain days." Though there was a bit of fear settling into her stomach at the idea of having her brain cut into, more than anything did Red want to be cured of this god awful dementia that was wreaking so much havoc in her life.
Setting the imaging from the scans back where he'd originally placed them, the neurologist grabbed his appointment book and started flicking through the pages until he was able to find the correct month. His finger traced along the page trying to locate the next available slot he had open. "I have an opening for three weeks from today, it would be on a Tuesday morning. Would that work for you, Mrs. Reznikov?" He told her, staring up from the reading glasses covering his eyes at the very person he'd been addressing. An eyebrow inquisitively arched while he waited for a response.
A fervent nod was given to acknowledge the inquiry. Red took a second to stare over at Nicky and Lorna, both of whos' faces were rather pale and unsettled at the mere thought of Red's having to undergo such a risky procedure. She sighed at their noticeable unease and again gave a squeeze to the hand holding her own, this time a reassuring one. "That will work for me but can I have some time to think it over and talk with my girls about it before it's set in stone?" Eyes drifted back onto the neurologist.
"Of course. I'll pencil you in for the day so that no one else can schedule for it but one of my nurses will call you in a couple of days to check in and if you're certain that you want to proceed, they'll set it up and give you instructions to follow. And, of course, if any questions arise before then you're always welcome to give us a call. Take care ladies."
Three weeks passed; Red prepared for brain surgery. Nicky and Lorna had been rather skeptical at first but eventually saw the benefits outweighed the risks and supported Red through her decision to undergo such a major operation. They were both there by her side the day of the procedure, each sitting on either side of Red's gurney holding her hands in theirs and stroking the palms of them more as a comfort for themselves than for Red who hadn't seemed too apprehensive over the fact that her brain was about to be cut into shortly.
The procedure took nearly eight hours, though, it went smoothly and without any unforeseen issues. Nicky and Lorna sat in the waiting room, agonizing the entire time as they waited for some sort of news. They were eventually brought back to a consultation room where the doctor explained to them how well the surgery went, the tumor having been entirely removed, and that now they just needed to see Red through the long recovery period she had ahead of her.
At the three month mark after the operation—as predicted by Red's neurologist—most of her symptoms had improved. She still had the occasional moment where her memory became hazy and she couldn't entirely remember who she was or where she was, however, there were many more lucid days than there were before the removal of the tumor. Slowly and steadily Red was recovering and regaining her former personality. Regaining the ability to be the woman she was previous to this disease that gradually took over a part of her brain. She was unexplainably gracious her daughters' were able to find her the neurologist they had and was given this second chance at life. That she wouldn't have to spend what was left of her life relying on the care of Nicky or Lorna, that she could go back to being the independent Russian woman she always was. Of course just because she had gained her independence back didn't mean she was going to move out—it was rather nice living under the same roof as the two younger women. They were her family and she enjoyed living there with them, making sure they ate well and took care of themselves.
Six months post brain surgery and Red was around ninety percent back to her previous self. She had monthly check-ups with her doctor to make sure her brain was healing properly as well as for surveillance purposes to make sure the tumor didn't return. If it had returned, with their monthly exams, they would be able to catch it much earlier and stop it before it got too large. Fortunately all of her appointments thus far had come back clean as a whistle.
Fall was making its entrance; Red was seven months post-op and Lorna had been five months out since her last therapy session. With everything going on with Red Lorna believed it was best to pause her therapy appointments so that she could be there to support both Red and Nicky through the major brain operation as well as the long road of recovery. Plus, she knew how costly Red's medical care was and figured it would be wise to forgo her own treatment to be able to pitch in for Red's. Red deserved to have her health back and Lorna certainly hadn't minded in the slightest taking a break from therapy to help Red out. It was amazing to see how much the Russian matron was becoming her old self again. To see how happy and less distressed Nicky was to have her mother back—not just in the physical sense but also the mental sense.
However, now with fall on the horizon, Lorna felt more and more blue each morning she awoke. It wasn't an overnight occurrence rather a gradual switch. She had to force herself to smile even though all she wanted to do was crawl right back in bed and bury herself underneath the blankets. She couldn't understand why she felt so down when life was treating her incredibly well. It caused shame to overcome her at the fact she was sad for no good reason. There truly wasn't a reason to feel the way she was—Red was doing exceptionally well with her recovery and Nicky had the light return to her eyes which Lorna knew hadn't fully been there since before Red had been wrongfully diagnosed with dementia back at the prison's medical ward nearly eighteen months earlier. Hell, even she was doing better working the night shift with Nicky at the convenient store.
But, apparently, the latter wasn't entirely true anymore. Lorna didn't have the desire to get out of bed. Didn't have the desire to prepare herself for the day ahead. Didn't even have the desire for a cup of coffee. Her beloved cup of coffee and now, as she drearily sat up in her and Nicky's shared bed, the thought of a cup of coffee revolted her.
The door to their bedroom creaked open and Lorna's eyes instantly darted towards it to see who the culprit was. When Nicky came in through it Lorna wasn't surprised at all and pursed her lips into a smile. A smile that felt as cold as her heart. But she couldn't let Nicky find out she wasn't entirely okay. Nicky hadn't been this stress-free in a while and Lorna couldn't bear to be the one to ruin that for her. "Good morning, hon," she greeted a little too chirpy than was likely necessary.
Nicky did not return the smile. Instead she silently made her way to their bed and sat down on the mattress right beside Lorna. Arms quickly found their way around Lorna's waist, pulling her down to her chest. She secured it there by resting the top of her chin over the top of Lorna's head. "It's noon, doll. I was coming in here to wake you…what's going on? This is the third day in a row you've slept past morning and that's not like you. You're a morning person, an incredibly chipper morning person who would annoy anyone but I adore ya because a that," her thumb caressed delicately along the flesh of Lorna's forehead.
She sighed deeply uneased at the fact that this was becoming a repetitive habit. Something wasn't right. Lorna was usually the first one up every morning, the house smelling strongly of coffee by the time Nicky awoke an hour later. "Talk to me, Lorna, tell me what's going on with you. Are you sick? Or are you depressed?"
Depressed? Lorna physically shuddered at the mere word. Lorna Morello would never be seen in the dictionary under the word depressed. One would consider that an oxymoron. But the clear fact she was barely able to get out of bed lately, that she couldn't even bring herself to fix a measly cup of coffee—that wasn't the definition of an optimist, either. Lorna didn't know what she was. Shoulders raised up to her cheeks while a breath of air puffed through her mouth.
"I don't know, hon, I don't know what's going on with me. I don't feel sick or nothin'," she shrugged and sighed again. Shame formed a tight, sharp, knot into her stomach.
Nicky sighed, too, lips then fell into a disheartened frown. Never in the time that she knew Lorna did Nicky ever imagine describing Litchfield's most bubbly, cheerful, inmate to be depressed but that was the only word that could be used to describe Lorna's current new habit. "Well, what exactly are you feeling? You gotta be open and honest with me, remember? We promised each other there would be no more hiding things."
Eyes averted onto the comforter wrapped around her lower body. Lorna placed her fingers atop its thick, cotton, material and caressed it in a circular motion. "I feel sad, hon. I feel sad and I don't understand why," she started off, sucking down on her lower lip. "Life is real good right now I have no reason to feel sad but I do and-and I just feel like staying in bed all day. Even, er, even coffee don't sound no good to me. I don't know what's wrong with me, hon."
A tightness gradually formed in Nicky's chest. She secured her arms around Lorna's waist pulling her closer and slowly rocking her back and forth. Lips brushed tenderly over the top of her head. "Aw, no, my sweet Lorna," Nicky murmured, nuzzling her chin softly against the scalp of Lorna's head. Hands rubbed warmly up and down the length of her spine. "You might be depressed, sweetheart. It's okay. We can get this treated, we should probably schedule a therapy appointment. It's been a while since you've had one, kid, you still have a lotta shit ya gotta deal with. Therapy is something you need in order to get better. I think now's a good time to get back to it, yeah? Red's doing really good now and now it's time for you to get your treatment."
"I don't, erm, I don't know if I want to go back to therapy yet, though. I mean I've been doing okay without it—"
"Babe, you're depressed and haven't been getting up like you usually do. You're not doing okay. You need to go back to therapy whether you want to or not. I mean I think you do want to go back but your mental illness doesn't want you to."
Lorna swallowed uncomfortably and bit down on the side of her mouth. She lifted a hand and slicked back her brown waves. "I don't want to put any strain on you, Nicky. You seem so happy now with Red back and doing good. I-I don't wanna drag ya back down my rabbit hole of problems and make you stress out again. I love seeing you happy. Please don't let me take that away from you, hon. You deserve to be free of—"
Shaking her head violently, Nicky gritted her teeth together and swiftly halted Lorna from speaking any further by pressing her chest softly, yet firmly, against Lorna's face. "Don't even think about finishing that sentence. Fuck. You're going back to therapy and that's the end of it. You clearly, desperately, need it. You're starting to regress and I'm not gonna let you spiral down that path again. I have ma back and I want my Lorna back, too. You deserve to be doing as good as ma is, Lorna. You deserve to fucking get treatment so that you can live a happy and healthy life just like ma and I."
A pause was taken so that Nicky could calm her rising anger. She tightened her hold on the brunette and softened her approach. Fingers raked gently, repeatedly, through the thick strands of brown hair cascading from Lorna's scalp. "I love you and ma more than anyone on this fucking planet. I will never stop loving either one a you, Lorna. And because I love you I want you to get the help you need and I want to be there with you through it. I'm gonna support you and give ya all the love in the world. I know you want help, too, you do. You're just dealing with so much self-hatred that it's hard for you to believe you're worthy of help, of love, of anything fucking good. But, sweetheart, you are absolutely worthy of all of those things. You are worthy of getting better and living a life full of love, happiness, and good health. That's why you need to get back into the therapy so you can eventually get to a point where you don't hate yourself with such a damn burning passion. It won't be easy or quick but you're not gonna do it alone, baby. You'll have me and Red—we'll be here to support you through everything. Okay?"
Lorna snuffled, nodding her head reluctantly. "I don't want therapy but I know I don't want to be a burden to you so I'll er I'll go back to meeting with Fischer. I love you more than I can ever say and I, I wanna be betta for you, hon. I know I need the therapy to be betta I just I hate facing reality."
Nicky couldn't resist the chuckle that escaped upon hearing Lorna's revelation. She nodded and pressed a warm kiss atop Lorna's head. "Oh, believe me, I know you hate facing reality, baby. You've always put up an act, always tried to make people think you've lived this happy, go-lucky, life. Most were dumb enough to accept that as fact but you've never fooled me, Lorna. I've always had an inclination you've been struggling with something and I was right. And I wish I had been wrong because a woman as sweet as you doesn't deserve to be struggling with such a heavy mental condition. No matter what your self-hatred tells you, Lorna baby, you don't deserve to suffer. You deserve to be helped and that's exactly what you're going to be receiving moving forward is help. You deserve to be loved and taken care of, too, kid. By me you will be both of those things, loved deeply and unconditionally and taken care of for the rest of our lives. And we have many years ahead of us, so, ya better be prepared to be stuck with me for a long time," lips twitched into a light-hearted smirk at the latter. Nicky temporarily lifted Lorna's head from her chest to gaze into her eyes; they shared a warm laugh and then a tender kiss on the lips.