23. Take the worst situation (and make it worse)
AN: Sorry for the frankly ridiculous hiatus. Almost as long as the actual OITNB hiatus, which is also ridiculous. I go through odd bouts of inspiration where I can write large amounts in a small space of time, conversely, I could be sat in front of a computer for five hours and not write a single word. Anyway, enough of the pandering and grovelling, here's another chapter. Love you all, dearly.
(Flashbacks in italics)
.
.
.
She left.
It had worked for a while.
But with each month that passed the cracks grew larger, deeper, wider. Just like the insidious chasms that appear along mountain walls or long stretches of road. The kind that develop slowly and out of sight. There was never any time nor warning when the road collapses and the mountain crumbles...you were just there left to pick up the pieces.
They had tried. Tried to make it work.
Maybe not enough.
But how could anyone try to fix a car smashed beyond recognition? How could anyone try to rebuild a house destroyed by the hot embers of a forest fire? How could anyone try to replant a hundred year old tree felled by the winds of a ferocious hurricane?
How could they have pretended that it was ever going to work?
It had all been a stupid illusion. A canvas of broken lies.
Because really what had been needed was so painfully simple: delete the past, forget the present, and rewrite the future.
None of those things had happened.
A new car. A new house. A new tree.
She left.
Piper had left.
.
.
.
The water was hot.
Burning and almost scalding her. But it wasn't uncomfortable. Alex was numb to all sensations, numb from the inside out. She forced herself to remember the events from the last few months.
She always did that.
Piper finding her drunk in her office, Piper trying to help. Piper leaving.
Alex drowning herself in alcohol and anger.
The thing that kept haunting her ever since Piper had left - that kept her awake at night and troubled her through her weighted days - was that look of sincere sympathy. The way her head had slightly tilted to the side, giving Alex her complete and unbroken attention. Alex had always been torn between relishing in the sympathy, letting herself give over to it or retreat back to that place.
That place void of emotion. That place that did not want sympathy. Did not want people's pity. Because surely? Surely that would mean she was not capable of living her life without the harness of sympathy to hold her up?
And why did Piper always do that? Why had she listened when Alex didn't talk. Why did she care when Alex had given her nothing?
Those looks of sympathy had been so bothersome.
Wasn't that the downfall of people who succumbed to that? Exposing your emotions for all to abuse and eventually run the risk of it being used against her. It had scared Alex. She'd never been one for overt emotion.
It's okay. Alex had long accepted that in addition to the destructive path she had taken, she seemed to function surprisingly well amongst the populace.
Even her mom had fallen for the magician's trick.
She had grown proficient at not letting her face betray the thoughts swirling inside her mind but it had been goddamn hard. Hard when Piper's almost sickeningly yearning look threatened to burn a hole through the brick wall she had erected around herself. The wall had started to crumble more with each successive encounter. It was no wonder she had to get out of there.
Get out before it completely collapsed and buried her underneath the rubble. Because buried she didn't know if she would ever be able to crawl out of it.
Alex turned the tap all the way. The stream of water so hot, it was almost scalding her. Blotches of raw and reddened skin appearing. At least it helped mask the throbbing in her leg and watered down the fiery ache burning across her shoulder.
Cambodia, Paris, Jakarta and Bali.
All the sights and sounds they had shared.
All that seemed like far-flung memories now.
Fuck her.
Fuck her.
She was too high on sympathy and longing, too wrapped up in this semblance of opening her heart up. Too fucking proud to admit she was falling apart. Too hurt for her leaving. Too resentful for not having stopped her.
.
.
.
Sacrifice.
It was such a revered act.
So honourable.
But nobody ever stopped to think of just how fucking selfish it really was.
Her bags were stacked by the door. Packed and ready.
Piper had spent the most part of the morning, packing her clothes and belongings into all of three bags. That was all it required to uproot everything and transport it three thousand miles away.
Three bags.
Alex had sat in front of the TV all evening - trying to drown out the sounds of Piper removing traces of herself from their apartment.
"Alex, have you seen my iPod?"
"First drawer of the bedside table." Alex swallowed up a stream of acid suddenly shooting up. "...my side of the bed."
She had then got up, helped with the bags, and followed Piper out to the hallway, and had stood by the door, waiting.
Alex had worked herself up to this moment, practiced it a thousand times over in her head. But the very last thing she's expecting is Piper closing the door again, suddenly turning around and grabbing her by the shoulders.
Unbalanced, she feels Piper lock lips with her and just for a brief second, Alex foolishly thinks Piper has changed her mind, but it was just a goodbye kiss.
It wasn't even the kind of kiss that spoke of warmth, nostalgia or longing but rather it felt forced. Obligatory. A kiss that was just part of an unwanted routine, reduced to nothing more than the mere action of touching lips. The insincerity of it stained Alex's lips.
She could feel Piper's searching stare roam over her face, searching for that kink in her armour, for that one falter in her stony expression. Because surely this was all wrong and Alex should just laugh, relax her shoulders and beckon Piper back into the apartment? Because surely farewells were injected with more emotional warmth than this? But Alex forced her expressions to appear neutral and impassive, her arms tucked loosely by her sides, fists clenched. After all, it was for the best.
"Have a safe trip." The words tumbled out in a hoarse, garbled fashion, barely even audible.
Piper nods. And Alex had been scared of this. Not of the goodbye but not being able to trust her voice. For it not to come out scraped thin and betraying the impending tears that would follow. She hadn't realised the goodbyes would be so uneventful and that's what bothered her the most.
"Thanks."
"Make sure you call when you get there."
"Will do."
"I-"
"What?"
"Make sure you call when you get there."
"Yeah."
"…."
"…"
"How long is the drive to the airport?" Alex asked, breaking the impenetrable silence.
"A couple of hours if the traffic's not bad plus it is only noon so I'll avoid the evening rush hour. I'll probably get to the airport super early."
"Ok."
"I'll let you know if there are any major developments."
A wave of cold dislike snaked down her back, stifling all idle chatter. Alex could feel her face begin to bear an expression of something resembling annoyance. Before Alex knows it, she's already throwing a dart of accusation, "Nice of you to realise now that I should know about any developments in your life that could affect me as well."
Piper stopped talking.
Alex had just throws a bullseye.
She could see the hot, red shame burning Piper's cheeks and instead of the reaction making her feel triumphant, she just felt sad and despondent.
Piper was still leaving.
.
.
.
The water was burning her now. Alex's skin felt like it was on fire. She tells herself that's why there are tears rolling down her face. That's why her legs feel so heavy and exhausted – feeling as though she was going to collapse imminently.
Alex did not know when that feeling would ever go away. The feeling of hopelessness and generally not giving a fuck about things. That feeling like the whole world was turning against you. It had worked at the beginning but now she was struggling to hold its weight and miseries up. Maybe, it was all too much for one person.
.
.
.
Alex had told her to leave.
It was easier that way.
It had been her choice, her power, her say-so.
But Piper had left.
.
.
.
"What?" Alex asked softly.
"Nothing."
"You seem…scared."
"Scared?" Piper smiled weakly, "Just nervous." Alex thought she was going to broken in half by that smile.
Six billion smiles and Piper's had always been her favourite.
It still was.
It always would be.
"Don't be." The softness of her voice was so inconsistent with the current silent turmoil she was in.
Piper looked as though she wanted to cry.
Alex was just silent.
"Do we really have to do this?"
"Do what?"
"This."
"You do what you have to, I'll be fine."
"Alex..." She hesitates, "Say something."
"There's nothing to say."
She hadn't meant it maliciously it was simply the truth.
She was acutely aware of how repetitive this conversation really was, and so loosened the knot with a tentative smile, as if the simple act of it would make the whole thing seem less forced and scripted.
Alex had let herself believe in it.
Suddenly she felt Piper's body connect with her. For an alarming second, Alex hesitated, her body automatically tensing itself defensively. The inadvertent action jarred her before she eventually allowed Piper's arms to wrap themselves around her, her head resting in the nape of Piper's neck, her hair tickling her nose. That sweet scent, that softness and those gentle hands resting patiently on her back.
It suddenly felt so false. So objectively phony. The arms now feeling as though they were suffocating her, like chains wrapped tight around. Alex jerked back, taking a hesitant step backward, just as she caught the confused surprise in those blue eyes.
"Sorry. I was just uh – " Startled by her actions, Alex stammered in her explanation – the awkward silence hanging between like them like an uninvited third presence.
The moment was thankfully cut short by the honk from the taxi that had just arrived.
"I guess that's my ride." Piper announced unnecessarily, "I won't forget to call." She hurriedly added, glancing at Alex whose mouth was all but a grim line, the eyes dimmed from within.
"Sure."
Alex wasn't even sure whether she had heard her.
Suddenly she was presented with a vision of Piper turning around. Screaming, marching back into the apartment, dumping the suitcases and announcing she had changed her mind. It had only appeared for a second, but that second had been more than enough.
"I'll see you around?"
"Sure."
Alex could see her jaw clenching, her eyes squeezed shut.
Even Alex was disturbed by her own monosyllabic answers. But there was something in Piper's voice that had alarm bells ringing. An edge that spoke of detachment. Distance, and all things Alex didn't really want to acknowledge.
"Love you." Piper whispered, perversely hoping that such statement had no other alternative but to be reciprocated.
"Sure."
Alex could crack open chests. Perform cardiac surgery with her eyes closed. Bring back patients whose hearts had stopped. Work ninety-six hours shifts and still intubate bleeding patients within minutes.
But could she return that simple statement?
.
.
.
The water was like acid.
The drink hadn't helped.
All these months gone by and there was still no one there to stop her.
Alex was glad for that.
When she had gone back to work, she told herself that it was just what she'd need but what she hadn't bargained for was how quickly her determination would falter.
Four days. That's all she had managed.
Alex's head felt ready to crack open from the Fitzgerald's pleads of sympathy, when he'd realised that his best asset at Litchfield General Hospital had pressed the self-destruct button.
No amount of counselling and promises of bumper salaries and promotions had convinced the once talented cardiologist to ever return. Without fanfare Alex had given in her resignation letter, printing a generic template from the internet and signed it at the bottom.
.
.
.
She's walking for miles. Leaving the skyline of Manhattan far behind. Alex doesn't take notice of the signs or the whirring of New York life buzzing past her. She's set on just walking. Her glasses are filling with condensation, the fumes from stationary rush hour traffic pushing the temperature dial to unbearable. But Alex doesn't feel it, if anything she quickened her pace. All she can hear is her breathing, taking comfort in the fact that as long as she's moving one foot in front of the other, she's not holding a drink in her hand.
Suddenly her phone starts ringing. Alex ignores it, but after six rings her resolve starts to waver. Like always, she lets it go to voicemail.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket, looks at the growing list of left voicemails. Alex listens to them sometimes. Her heart would stutter and spasm whenever she heard that voice.
Open voicemail
23rd February "Alex, pick up the phone, I've been trying to call you on your cell but it's just going to voicemail. I'll call back tomorrow."
24th February "Hey...I promised I'll call back today but it's still just going voicemail? Is your phone working? Sorry, I'll try later, need to go... my parents are coming over. Call me when you get this."
28th February "Alex, can you pick up your calls? You're fucking scaring me. Call, when you get this."
3rd April "Can you at least reply to my texts?"
16th June "Alex, please...I just want to hear your voice."
It's a year or so later when she received another voicemail. She'd been on her usual early morning walk. Alex's feet had already started to ache, her blistered feet sending off sparks of pain, sweat trickling down her back.
This time she doesn't even listen.
She drops it over the flyover bridge, where it splinters against the concrete ground, shattering into a thousand pieces.
Fuck her.
Alex waits for the feeling of freedom to engulf her, to finally become untethered by the one last piece of connection she had to Piper, but it doesn't.
Piper had left. And it still hurt.
.
.
.
Alex looks out of the window, the sky an inky blue, free of clouds, and the moon sits full and heavy above the horizon. The bathroom is thrown into a gloomy haze. The darkness had already descended.
Another day over.
Her body suddenly feels unbearably heavy, and her mind is careening between half-sleep and fear and longing.
Her knees decided then not to support her weight anymore, and Alex let herself slide down onto the wet floor. She pulled her knees to her chest, closing her eyes as the water beat down on her breasts and face. She bent her head forward, feeling like a ragdoll. The water pummelled the top of her head, bruised the back of her neck, but she did not care. Her body did not belong to her anymore.
She was empty. She could not think of what had meaning in her life anymore. Not her apartment. Not her job. She scoffed at the thought of her job offering her meaning – remembering how she had been practically gushing on what an amazing and brilliant career medicine was to the impressionable medical students that had been assigned to her rotation. Their naïve puppy eyes lapping up everything she'd been telling them as gospel. How extraordinarily trusting people were. How gullible.
.
.
.
Piper silently picks up her suitcases and headed towards the taxi, the walk grotesquely long. Her legs shaking uncontrollably, no part of her body escaping the pain destroying everything in its wake. A fucking truck trampling over everything until all it left behind was utter devastation.
Once in the car, Piper turns her gaze toward the apartment. Alex had already gone, the door already closed. She hadn't even spared a second for that final goodbye. The hurt of that overrode everything. The car began to roll forwards and it wasn't until they had been driving for several hours - that she desperately asked the driver to stop at the side of the road. Seconds later, she stumbled out, the ground rippling beneath her.
Piper doubles over, the contents of her stomach emptied, her legs shaking, her arms shaking, her entire body shaking. Her insides felt so vacant, it was as if her stomach had turned in on itself and had turned concave.
Back in the car, she leans her head against the window, looking out but not focussing on anything in particular - the scenery whirring by in blurs of green and blue.
She finds herself tapping out the letters of 'sure' on the window all the way to the airport; only stopping when the car jolts to a halt.
Confused, she looks up, they were already parked in front of the airport. Had it already been a few hours?
A throbbing pain, momentarily distracts her and she stares down at her hands; a cuticle of skin at the tip of her finger had come away, a bright red streak of blood oozed from the spot. She just kept staring at the steady, slow crimson trickle, the pain somehow soothing. She felt tears well into her eyes and bit her lip so hard that the tears fell from pain instead of grief.
"Ma-am? We're here."
.
.
.
The water started to run cold; the spray pricking at her skin. Alex turned off the shower and dried herself with a towel, feeling as though she was just going through the motions. Her body still felt contaminated despite having spent the majority of her evening under the shower. After getting dressed, Alex took the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. She caught sight of the ever-growing collection of empty alcohol bottles taking up more and more space as time went on. She should throw those out, if only to rid herself of that image, the visual too indicative of things being not right.
.
.
.
The front door closes with a resounding thud. Alex leans heavily against the door, finally allowing herself to become undone. All the pent-up heartache tumbling out, drowning her in it. A silence that is as alien as the lack of Piper in her apartment takes over. Suddenly mindful of the solitariness - her legs buckle and it hits her with a physical force.
She can imagine her hurt, confused at her lack of the final bye, but Alex had tried to remain unemotional. Attempted to remain stoic but it had been so fucking hard when she caught the utter devastation on Piper's face. And when she had lifted her face to be harshly greeted by the sight of blue eyes wet with unshed tears it had nearly unstitched her at the seams. Like a mantra the phrase 'It was for the best ' was looping itself around her head in an endless circle. But it did nothing at staving off the liquid darkness swallowing the words up one by one.
A sob filled the room.
Hers.
Alex had never heard such grief in her life. The sound itself was more frightening than what was currently happening. Or happened?
Was it already too early for the past tense?
.
.
.
The women had come and been.
Fuck her.
Piper had a free reign to life.
Alex had a free reign to her life.
She had built herself a timetable amongst the chaos. The seasons whirred by, the leaves turning orange, red, brown, green, and then turning orange again.
The days of the week were also neatly ordered and arranged:
Monday, it was the Scotch.
Tuesday was the whiskey
Wednesday was blurred.
Thursday and Friday, empty.
Saturday was the comfort of another human.
Fuck her.
Three drinks. A few choice words at the guileless woman who struck up conversation with Alex at the bar. A taxi ride. A fumble of keys and forget.
Saturday was the comfort of another human.
Alex felt the girl gently nestle her hand into hers.
She could feel herself becoming completely still.
The hold felt so soft and tangible. Alex felt her circle her thumb over her palm, tracing lazy circles and muttering stupid innocuous remarks.
Alex could hear the intake of her every breath, every beat of her heart pounding in her ears, it felt as though her senses were heightened to a point where they could go no further. She was surprised to feel the girl's fingers lightly stroking her hair. She closed her eyes as they traced her cheekbones and lips.
It was so goddamn comforting. So goddamn healing. Alex thought she would cry from the incalculable need for this. Whatever this exactly was and exactly meant. In that same sweeping thought, a small part of her knew Alex was nothing more than a vessel. She was here to sate an urge. This stupid faceless girl who had made her laugh and act like a human being for all of a few hours, who had whispered phrases of affection in her ear all night. She was nothing more than a finger that wiped away that itch.
But her hand was so warm, and Alex didn't think she could garner enough of it. Like she needed that warmth to melt the icy cold within her. The girl seemed to sense that because she put both of her hands over Alex's, finger to finger. She tilts her head, willing and lightly brushed her lips over her neck. Alex did not move. Thinking if she let go, that ever-approaching tide of despair and loneliness would finally drag her with it and drown her. There was an underlying desperation, an almost begging quality that would have buckled her knees had she been standing.
"Just hold me…please."
Alex hadn't even realised she had uttered the words, until she felt the girl close the gap between them in response, sensing her arms wrap around her, feeling as though she finally found that safety blanket she so craved for. If the girl could see in the dark and look up now, she'd see Alex holding the same expression as a person who'd been saved from a rapidly sinking ship.
The thing is Alex isn't even remotely attracted to to these women. Isn't even slightly enamoured by their looks.
Rather, it boiled down to simple reason: it was the comfort of someone. Relishing under that human touch. Not her. She wasn't here. Fuck her. This wasn't about her. No, not at all. It was all about fulfilling that need. A need which seemed to grow and grow as the days grew heavier and weighted. Whichever way Alex looked at it – it was still selfish and self-centred and entirely self-serving.
Fuelled by that selfish want monopolising her thoughts; Alex pushed herself against the girl, letting herself melt into her embrace. She shut her eyes, allowing her hands and body to do all the work. As if that somehow made the act less bad. As long as she was not looking it wasn't really her doing. It had worked all those other occasions before.
"Alex?"
Those lips. Supple and soft. And her neck, pale like porcelain. It dawned on Alex; the girl with the blonde hair and blue eyes and trusting expression, bore striking similarities to her.
Piper
Suddenly an image floods Alex.
It strikes almost violently, rising up from the emptiness. She-Piper is speaking, her lips moving soundlessly. A smile lighting up her entire face. Stricken, Alex shakes her head, sweat blooms on her skin and it feels as though her chest is splitting open. Wrought with confused panic, she buries her hands into girl's hair, fumbling wildly with the buttons of her shirt, practically ripping the thing off. She twists out of her jeans, throwing them onto the floor, and roughly drapes herself over her. Alex ignores the trembling of her hands, ignores the blurring of her peripheral vision – instead pressing her lips against the girl's, tracing chaotic kisses over her collarbone, her nape, her chest.
"Hey?"
What did she fucking want?
"What?" It came out more aggressive than she intended to.
"Slow down. You're going too fast."
Alex gritted her teeth together, suppressing the urge to tell her to shut the fuck up and just get on with it.
Alex could see her outline in the dark, she was glad they couldn't see each other's faces. It made her feel less exposed. She hears the girl laugh uneasily, and for a second Alex thinks she's changed her mind and has had enough. Alex panics more than she expects, momentarily ashamed of her vulnerability.
But then the faceless woman leans forward, and pulled her closer, there was no mistaking her intention. Relieved, Alex throws herself into the heat. Their lips bumping clumsily together, their foreheads colliding against one another. Alex feels the girl's knees pressing between her legs, but that familiar, expected arousal doesn't come – she shifts her weight to get closer – but again nothing. Alex grazes her teeth over her neck, biting skin, trying to push her body closer and closer.
There just wasn't enough force. Not enough intensity. It just didn't feel the same. That thought again, niggling away at her.
Alex could hear the hysterical demands echoing in her head, the words bouncing off each other.
No, you're supposed to kiss me like this. Your hands on me are supposed to feel like that. The taste of your lips should be like this. The feel of your skin to be like that. Like this, like so. Exactly like that.
Like hers
Alex was just too wrapped up in her own version of her, basking in the thinly veiled falseness of it. She pressed her lips harder and faster, to the point where their teeth clashed against one another, only slowing down when she felt the girl roughly pull back. Alex tried to ignore and block out the unfamiliarity of those lips as she desperately sought contact again. But the blanket of delusion didn't stretch far enough, didn't cover the ever-growing holes that began appearing - holes where the fucking truth shone through and people like Piper filled them.
Holes just too big to jump over.
Everything suddenly felt wrong. Like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit, no matter which way she turned them.
"Alex?"
Her voice. So different.
Scratch that, the whole fucking set was wrong.
As if on cue, another shard of memory appears, shimmering in the darkness. Alex shuts her eyes, driving her clamped fists into her eye-sockets, trying to rub the memory of her away.
The apartment noises drown out as she feels her insides clench together, fighting the overwhelming urge to be sick.
"Take your clothes off." Alex hears herself say, her tone barely even.
"Huh?' Faceless woman looked up, confused.
"I said take your clothes off." She repeated, an impatient annoyance creeping into her words.
She pulls away from Alex, sitting up straight, covering herself back up, 'What's wrong with you?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You're acting weird, and-"
Alex climbs off the sofa, suddenly pissed, "I thought you wanted me. Isn't that what you said at the bar?" She laughed lifelessly. "You wanted to experiment, so what the fuck has changed?"
The woman shook her head, hesitation and regret competing for space across her face, "I think...I think we should stop."
Alex narrowed her eyes, a hot pain was leaching into the back of her eyes, causing everything she looked at - have a tinge of red around it. "What? Just as the fun begins?"
"I don't really think this has been a good idea."
These women had never been a good idea.
Piper had left.
But fuck her.
Saturday was always the comfort of another human.
Sunday didn't exist.
Turn the calendar page and start again.
.
.
.
Piper crammed her knuckles in her mouth to keep herself from audibly crying. The lady seated beside her in the airplane had by now realised that she should stop trying to strike conversation with her. After all Piper was the only one participating in this nightmare happening at 40,000 feet up.
It was an exclusive club - select members only.
A cold perspiration ran down her back. Her throat raw from the screams struggling to escape, scraping at the back of her throat.
She had to get up. Now. She fumbled desperately with the seatbelt, "Sorry, can I get past." The request barely audible.
The lady with the warm and friendly eyes immediately stood up, intent on letting her through, "Sure."
Piper froze in place. It took a moment for the word to sink in.
Love you
Sure
So dreadfully wrong.
.
.
.
AN: You all deserve a medal. Sincere thanks for still persevering.