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Before We Fall To Pieces
6.

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'I want to show you something.'

Piper is fragile, shaking and cold. Vulnerable and it is a shocking, frightening sight. No explanation is provided. She reaches over to grab the bag she brought in not long ago, before turning to Alex, holding her hand, tangling their fingers together. It's a brief pause in the constant waves of anger, shouts and pain. They look at each other, and there's solace, a little light in the dark depths of Piper's eyes which Alex hasn't seen in so long. Piper is open to her. Naked, flustered, cheeks still flushed from their lovemaking. A frantic, desperate attempt to untie the knots, let the tense atmosphere between them break away.

Nothing is clear yet.

Maybe nothing ever will be, but they try. They are trying.

Alex is confused when Piper escorts her to the bathroom. Together they peel away their last few remaining clothes, flinging them aside carelessly. Piper steps into the shower, and encourages Alex to follow. Neither say a word. Hot water sprays across their bodies, and, instantly, Piper feels a sense of relief. She inhales, exhales, and then presses herself against Alex, listens to her heart, constant. And it terrifies her how easily her heart can cease beating, it terrifies her how easily, effortlessly, everything can stop. This woman –– person –– in her arms is as equally vulnerable as she. Anything can happen.

The blood trickles away, down the drain. Alex's palms are soft against her back, help wash off the heavy, red liquid which Piper can't erase. Kisses her jawline, neck, and they are such innocent, warm kisses, Piper struggles to remain standing. Her knees buckle, and she gasps, holding Alex tighter. Each second passes with an apology. Continuos apologies which neither can voice. They are sorry.

They are sorry, and they want to start again.

It's naïve, foolish. But they have little choice. They want little choice. Their focus has become each other –– everything else is merely forgotten. Right now, all that matters is them. She. Her. And it's all that ever will matter. Piper is tired of fighting, tired of battling her thoughts, tired of every trauma thrown at her. She's given up. She's forfeited, surrendered, and nothing, nothing, has felt more wonderful.

She chooses Alex. Even after everything, she chooses Alex, because she knows she cannot walk away. She knows she cannot live without her. She knows this, and she's too weak to try otherwise. She can't. She can't possibly try. This choice is certain. This choice is dangerous. She knows her life is dependant on this woman. She knows all she has is Alex to keep her safe, but she chooses Alex. Whatever happens, she will always choose her –– and, in a way, she always has. Their fates are inseparable.

After a while, Piper retreats from their embrace, and the cold is a shock to her skin. She wants Alex to hold her again, but, first, she has another motive in mind. Inside the bag is a small box, containing a tube of hair colour remover. Alex identifies the object before Piper opens it, but before she can say a word, Piper covers her mouth with her hand. 'Shut up. Don't say anything. Let me do this.'

It's bizarre, taking commands from her, but Alex reluctantly stays quiet. A childish smile graces Piper's lips as she squeezes the dye remover into her palm, before scrubbing it into Alex's hair. Naturally, her girlfriend isn't too pleased to be given this sort of treatment, which only makes Piper smile wider. Alex rolls her eyes, and waits for Piper to finish. And yet, there's something so domestic, so natural and nice about this. Here are they are, in a shower, and Piper is washing out Alex's dye. It nearly makes Alex laugh, because the fact they can switch back and forth is miraculous, terrible.

But only leaves her convinced there's no one else she'd rather be with.

Alex never abandoned Piper after their small argument. She had been mad at her, but she didn't walk away. She threatened, but she bluffed. It's as if Piper has her chained down, imprisoned her, and even if they snap, fight, hate each other, there is no other life they'd rather have. No other life they can imagine. Maybe Piper and Alex are simply meant to be alone. But they refuse to accept that; not right now.

The blonde colour washes away. It's a reflection of the blood Piper has been desperate to remove, and she's so happy, delirious, when she has Alex the way she knows her. Remembers her. Once the dye is gone, Piper runs a hand through Alex's hair, and the smile falls slightly. They return to embracing one another, and the heat from Alex's body bounces off, coating Piper like a blanket, and they fit together so well. Like missing pieces who have eventually found the other again, after so many years.

'Did you plan all of that?' Alex queries, twitching a smile.

Piper rests against her. 'Sort of. I didn't plan on you doing what you did, though. Guess that was more of an afterthought.' She sighs. Shudders. Piper scrunches her eyes closed, and wishes away every negative emotion coursing through her. Yet it lingers. Taunting. 'I don't want to do this anymore, Alex.' She feels her stiffen, and so holds her tighter, clinging. Don't run away. 'Hating you. Is exhausting. Fighting you is killing me––' Her voice catches and she levels her gaze with Alex's, '––I don't want to do this anymore.'

Honesty. Brutal, like stabs, constant stabs. Alex has nothing to say. They kiss once. A small, soft kiss which speaks so many words. Alex flicks off the shower. Instantly the chill of the room nips at their naked forms, and she reaches out to grab a towel, passes Piper one than herself. She dries, then rubs the towel over Piper's shuddering body, drying her too, and it's the same natural, effortless cycle again. No one yells, screams, mocks. They help each other do the simplest of things.

'I can dry myself.'

'Yeah, right.'

She sees Piper for what she is: hurt. Bruised. The affects of the shooting still damage her, and she needs help. A hand to hold –– she has to keep going, but she can't keep going alone. Maybe Alex has helped her in all the wrong ways. Maybe Piper doesn't need to be dragged from country to country. Maybe she just needs to be held, comforted, maybe she just needs what any normal person needs: someone to love her.

Hold her at night, keep her warm, remind her again and again –– You are good. You are a good person. You always have been.

And I'm staying here. With you. Right to the bloody end.

They fall under the sheets. Snow dances from the sky. Everything is the same. Nothing has changed. Yet the room is lighter, cosier, and Piper inhales Alex's familiar scent –– registers a hint of tobacco, the smell of the dye removal, remnants of a perfume she usually wears, and then there's her scent. Sweet, intoxicating, delicate –– a scent that can be eradicated with a simple wave of the hand. Forgotten. No traces left. Piper doesn't move, lying beside her. She doesn't move, afraid she may damage what is before her.

Everything is still healing.

And it all takes time.

Piper hears the sound of a bullet. Bang. Then another. Bang. Two bullets. Two dead mean.

Deaths she, herself, composed.

It's the sensation of Alex's arms moving around her waist which brings Piper back to reality. The memory oozes out of her mind, and she turns her attention to what matters. Alex is dozing, resting, and Piper doesn't disturb her. Hesitantly, Piper's finger trails across the curve of Alex's cheek, over the bridge of her nose, the corner of her lips. She's pale. Extremely pale –– sick. Alex doesn't look healthy, plagued by what has happened, plagued by what is about to happen. Ruined by Piper, what she's done, how she makes her feel.

Several minutes pass, and Piper thinks about everything. About her family, about Larry, about Polly, about Nicky, Lorna, about the prison itself. She thinks about the men she shot, the blood, the repercussions. She thinks about Alex, the poison and venom drowning in her eyes, the cruel, horrible words she spat at her, the constant, constant fights. How Alex deliberately hurt her, how Alex deliberately made Piper's life a living hell. Then she thinks about this, now. She erases every second, and considers what is now.

Something clicks.

A revelation. A decision. Something clicks, like a key turning in the lock.

Safe, with only Alex to watch over her; with only Alex, is all Piper has ever dreamed of. All she's ever thought of, wanted. This, right now, is the type of life Piper attempted to create for them. The drugs are nothing but a nuisance, an irrelevant fracture. Alex has walked away from her career for Piper. Given herself to her. Really offered herself to this woman, and Piper knows Alex never walks away from anything for anyone. She knows this is special, she knows she's been granted a very rare privilege.

'––I'll follow you anywhere.'

Set in stone. Cemented down. Piper is certain. She has never felt more certain in her life. There's no escaping Alex, there's no escaping who she is, what she is. And Piper would not have it any other way. She'll follow Alex further South if she has to. She'll live anywhere if she has to, she'll do what she's told if she has to. She'll stay. That's her choice: she will stay. Her love for Alex weighs at a heavy cost, but she is willing to pay the price. This is her life. This is her. This is Piper Chapman, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Her body still trembles, still aches from Alex's tongue, her hands, her kisses and possessive, violent love, but she knows.

That's enough. For now, that's all she needs.

(I see her smile, and everything falls into place. She opens her eyes, and I see the danger, the uncertainty, the unplanned, foolish, fatal life waiting to embrace me. And I want it all. Every last second. It's taken me a while –– too long –– to realise. I know I'm making a mistake. I know I shouldn't be here; I know I should have walked away years ago. I know I should never have come back to her. I know I should not love her, I know I should not be with her. But she is what I want, she is all I've ever wanted.

So I stay. I lie beside her, drink in the thrill, and shudder, amazed, shocked, and when she kisses me, I can't help but smile too. It's a quick instant. The anger, hatred, guilt –– it disappears, and my shoulders are free from the heavy weight of my decision. I feel alive. Heat rushes through my body and I sigh, push myself against her, and let each tiny pieces fall into its proper place. I forgive her.

I forgive her.

Then she whispers, softly, into my ear: 'I love you, too.'

An echo of my own confession. A promise. A beautiful, scarring devotion I cannot fathom, but am willing to hold onto. I have it no other way.

We smile. And it's really that simple.)

end.

author's note: This story is quite special to me. Without a doubt, one of the best pieces I've produced. I'm not saying it's perfect –– in fact, far from it –– but from what I've written, I'm very proud with how this came out. There were multiple ways I could have ended this. Originally, it was meant to be longer. However after a long thought, I didn't want to drag it on. I wanted you to imagine what happens next. This story was focussed a lot on the abusive relationship between Alex and Piper. I refuse to accept it is a healthy love, but it is certainly inevitable, which makes it so tragic and beautiful. I also went into depth with Piper and Alex's psychology, particularly Piper's. After all, I refuse to accept the fact she can brush off two murders as if it's nothing. To me, this story was all about these two coping with what happened and finding a way to move on.

Thank you [ lj ], Hope6968, inevitablevauseman, garganta, ToTheBarricades, sugarpopfiz, Maritexxam, Jess1308, bluepaintbox and the three [ Guest ] reviewers for leaving feedback on the prior chapter.

As you all know, I own none of the characters or the show. If you're reading my other two stories, then I'll see you over there.
It's been an angsty ride. Thank you so, so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this little spin-off.