Nicky stared at the bathroom mirror. The quiet of the early morning always had a calming effect and now, especially now that Red had been released a few months previously, it was her place of solace. The dark engulfed her, and unlike the suffocating ill-lit dormitories, it allowed her to breathe properly. She didn't know if it was the fact that it was where she first met Red; she didn't know if it was because the cubicles reminded her of Lorna, or if it was the fact that for five fucking minutes she could finally be alone. Whatever the reason, she reveled in her blissful solitude in the sweet moments before anyone else was awake.

She exhaled a heavy sigh, her shaking hands coming to rest gently on her flat stomach. She ran her fingers up her abdomen, her eyes squinting in the darkness. Not wanting to think anymore, she squeezed her eyes shut. The heroin she had managed to get her hands on the previous day still gave her a buzz, and, even though it was duller than yesterday's, it made her think less and that was the only thing she had wanted...the only thing she had planned for.

Swallowing hard, Nicky tried not to dredge up the events of the past. She looked down to the floor - nothing could change what had already happened. Her breathing ragged and legs weak, she tried to keep her tired eyes open in fear of being caught.

The janitor closet door slamming shut behind her. "This is what you want, Nichols?"

Her isolation is disturbed firstly by a mop that pokes through the bathroom door, then a muttering of complaint. "This bathroom's always dirty. Especially with the shower pooper..." Crazy Eyes stares at the other inmate, surprised to see her without a mop or another girl.

"What a fucking mess," Nicky murmured, her voice barely a whisper as she attempts to push the other inmate out of her mind and sight. The reaction is just what Suzanne was coveting, and her face beamed with a smile; finally, someone understood the misgivings of being on janitor duty, and even if Nicky wasn't strictly talking about the state of the shower stalls, Suzanne didn't seem to notice or care. Reluctant tears drip down Nicky's cheeks as she continues to stare at herself in the fingerprint smeared mirror.

"Sometimes the feelings inside me get messy like dirt. And I like to clean things, pretend the dirt is the feelings, and this floor is my mind. That is called coping..." she stopped her speech to look up at Nicky, and held out the mop hesitantly. People were forever looking at her like a freak; she didn't want yet another snicker but somehow it felt right this time.

Nicky's head snapped up. "If a mop could solve all our problems none of us would be in this shit-hole in the first place." Then she saw the expression she had caused as she emerged from the anger that had somehow been blinding. The expression that had been hers so many times from Marka's disappointment, from her dismissal. And she relented through gritted teeth, fingernails dug into the splintered wood handle, unsure of where her anger was even directed at. "Thanks, kid."


Nicky sauntered over to the table where Red waited expectantly and sat down heavily. Red leaned forward, her eyebrows raised, surprised at her lack of emotion. Her own emotions bubbled beneath the surface and she was shocked that she'd managed to not get up and run to her. "Nicky," she breathed, her hands immediately scrabbling to the younger woman's hair, fingers ghosting along her hairline to caress her face. It had been at least month since they'd last seen each other, and although they'd spoken on the phone, most of the conversation was taken up by Nicky feigning excitement for Red's release and reunion with her family. "How are you, malyshka?"

Nicky nods quickly, her curls bouncing around her face. "Good," she answered, a lie easily spilling from her lips, her eyes meeting Red's for the first time since she'd sat down. Nicky shook her head and relaxed into Red's touch, irrevocably familiar to her. "You didn't have to come. You haven't seen your boys in a long time." Nicky's voice tapered off and she shrugged hopelessly, her gaze falling to Red's scarlet fingernails. She shrugged as if she didn't care - because if you didn't care, you couldn't hurt - and let her body language tell a different story as her fingers held onto Red's like a baby's wrapped around its mothers. "You're probably really busy."

"I spent all week with them," Red answered honestly, doing all she could to stop herself from sounding too excited. She missed her girl more than words could ever say. "And you're my girl. You know, my right hand, my girl Friday, my V.P," she teased. "I missed you. Didn't you miss me, hmm?" Her fingers flipped through her newly colored red hair. It was surprising what an expensive salon could do to make someone feel lighter.

Nicky sniffed and tried not to look indignant. Didn't you miss me? Nicky screamed inside of her head, staring straight ahead into those blue eyes that had been both the wide open ocean, full of hopes and dreams, and the lifesaver for her, and tugged at the bottom of her shirt. She had only thought about her around a thousand times a day. Every time something mildly interesting, her first thought was still to tell Red, and there was still an ache of disappointment in her chest when her bunk was filled with someone else. When the kitchen was filled with the sounds of humming and not angry Russian yelling. But she had digressed, and tried to focus on Red once again.

"More than skirts," she said quietly, her fingers squirming underneath Red's own clammy hands. She exhaled heavily. More than almost anything.

Red laughed and took a deep breath. "And what about you? You've been behaving yourself, yes?" The hope in her voice was almost too much for Nicky to bear. Sweat prickled under her arms as she gazed uneasily back at Red.

"Yeah," she smiled, her teeth baring in more of a grimace than a grin. "I've been trying," she replied honestly. "What's going on with you?"

Red shook her head. "Oh, you wouldn't believe it." Her eyes narrowed and she leant on her elbows, leaning closer to Nicky. She had all but forgotten her own question, and seemed satisfied by Nicky's seemingly truthful answer. "It's Vasily's wife."

Nicky's head snapped up in surprise. "Sparkle Tits?" A ghost of a smile appeared on Nicky's face as she remembered all of the times that Red had complained about her. "But I thought she took the kids and the tits and the Guinea pigs and moved to Sheepshead Bay?" Nicky said, a thick and angry Russian accent spilling from her lips as Red watched on, finally quirking her lips into a smile.

"That's right," Red continued, fuming with anger. "Two months ago. My son might be useless but he's still a father, and he's not even going to live with his newborn. And taking the little one away from his babushka is just criminal." Red tutted and tucked her hair behind her ears. The mundane conversation made them both feel almost normal, and then Red finished her rant. "She thinks she's pregnant again!" From her mouth, the word sounded almost sinful, and Nicky winced. Red gave a snort of derision, but her eyes softened. "Of course I'll love the baby. But I'm just saying," she sighed, "I think there are better situations to have children in."

It could be worse, she thought grimly. Nicky nodded absently, her mind wandering. "When you're right, you're right."


Nicky played with the phone cord as she punched in an oh-so familiar number. So it was a shock when an unfamiliar voice rang out with her name. "Nicky! Mom's out but she'll be back any minute. How are you?"

"Who is this?" Nicky asked after a moment of silence. It could have only been one of three, and her question was clearly a delay tactic to the previous question, but the voice on the other end laughed.

"I thought you called me," the voice on the other line boomed with laughter. "It's Vasily! Mom told us all about you. I guess you're like a sister. Huh."

Nicky laughed softly, letting herself admit that it was nice to think like that. "Well, congrats bro. I heard the news about Sp-" she stopped herself for a moment, before continuing, "I heard the news about your wife."

"Of course you did," he sighed. "But she's not my wife, you know - Ma just says that. And thanks. But she got it wrong. Told me this morning."

Nicky didn't even have time to process the information before a breathless voice interrupted. "Nicky!"

After the easygoing conversation with Vasily, Nicky swallowed. It was always hard to hear her voice and not be able to look at her, to exchange laughter. She didn't know how her sons had survived all this time without her. Fuck, she didn't know how she was going to survive her last year in Litchfield without her.

"Red," Nicky murmured. "How are you?"

"Relieved!" Red almost sung. "I heard Vasily telling you. It was a stressful couple of days, waiting to hear back from the doctors. It was for the best," Red said, and Nicky wonders if she was giving that signature smile to Vasily. "Honestly, malyshka. For all of your troubles, at least you won't be getting pregnant."

"Yeah, Ma - here's the thing…" Nicky begun, her voice faltering. She wasn't sure what to say for the best - or, indeed, if it was better to say nothing at all.

"What is it?" Red hissed. "Is it drugs? Oh God, please - anything but fucking heroin." Red doesn't give Nicky a chance to continue. "Was it Luschek? Son of a bitch."

"No," Nicky said slowly. Great. Start with another lie. "Not him. Or drugs. Not really. Something worse," she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking. She gripped the phone tightly with both hands and felt relieved that no-one ever wanted to use the phone on movie night. The guards had swapped and there was no-one listening to the phones, so Nicky felt able to continue. "I guess it was about a month or two ago…" she shook her head. "It's hard to remember."

"What is?" Red asked desperately. "Don't fuck me around!"

"I'm not!" Nicky insisted. "I was alone. At least I felt it. Lorna was busy with whatever his name is. I don't know why I did it." She hesitated. "That's a lie. I did know. I do know, I mean. I wanted to forget for a little while. To feel good." Red groaned on the other end, but said nothing. "I didn't ask," she said, as if that made it better. "He said he had it. Told me that he'd heard why I'd gone to max. He said he only wanted one thing for it...obviously."

"Oh, Nicky," Red said softly.

Nicky ignored the pleading voice, and the plea that came with it - tell me it's not true. "So I did it." She closed her eyes. "I just pretended I wasn't. Went somewhere else in my head. He ignored me after, which was fine by me."

"So it ended okay? You've done something stupid, malyshka, but end it here. No more drugs. Do the rest of your sentence with no trouble. I want to see you when you get out, not be dead by then."

"But Ma-"

"No excuses! Just fucking do it," Red said irritably, wishing she could be there to keep an eye on her.

"Ma," Nicky's voice had grown desperate. She lowered it even though there was no-one around. "I missed my period."

There was a moment of silence. Just a nano-second, so short-lived that anyone else might not have noticed it. So lacking that anyone else would have questioned its meaning and mere existence. And then she laughed. Nicky wasn't sure if she was laughing at her, or with her...or just because of her. It wasn't her usual laugh; it wasn't deep and throaty and relentless when she wished she'd take her seriously. It was almost hysterical with undertones of disbelief, like something horribly wrong had happened along the way to it escaping from her lips.

"Okay," Red said finally, as she leant on a counter top for strength. Her head span and she felt as if both the world and her lungs were collapsing in on her as she tried to catch her breath. "Here's what we're gonna do..."