A/N: I've been playing around with this idea since I started reading hospital AUs and thought I'd do something a little different. All mistakes are mine but the characters are not, I'm just playing around with them for bants. I've got a like 2 or 3 chapters already written so if you want the rest, review and let me know! (PS. I only have very limited experience when it comes to seeing a therapist and stuff and because no one else was ever supposed to see this I just went with the flow completely, don't get pissed if it's wrong.)

Bloodstream

One;

Piper Chapman sighs, eyes flitting up towards the clock on the wall every now and then as she craves for the end of her day to come. She loves her job, really, she does, but sometimes it's a lot. She's seen so many patients already today she begins to struggle matching faces to the names she crosses out in her work diary. She's a clinical psychologist and it's no walk in the park. It's demanding, it's exhausting and it's draining, but it isn't exactly what her parents wanted her to do, and a tiny part of her will always love the thrill of finally doing something that is her own choice for once.

They wanted her to be a normal doctor. They wanted her to work on a ward and nurse people back to physical health by pumping their bodies full of drugs that would prolong - but not fix - their lives. Piper didn't want that. Sure, she wanted to help people, but she wanted to go a little deeper. It feels more rewarding getting people back to psychological health. It's that little bit more difficult and you've got to work so much harder and she loves it.

She fucking loves the challenge.

She's sitting at her desk; pen in one hand, mug of strong coffee in the other, as she waits for her last patient of the day, tiredness weighing her down to the point where she can feel her eyes slowly closing on their own. The things she'd do to be able to leave right now; go home, get a large glass of wine and spend the evening with a book and a blanket. Alas, she's here, in an office that is way too large inside a hospital that sounds and feels like a prison. Litchfield General is average to say the least.

She doesn't recognise the name in her work planner and she knows that isn't down to fatigue. This one's new.

New patients are her favourites. That's not to say she doesn't find comfort in the familiarity of her regulars, but there's something about newbies that makes her tick. It's the excitement of new stories to hear and a new person to help. New patients to her feel like Christmas presents to a small child.

Two simple words are written next to the large 6pm in her diary. One simple name.

Alex Vause.

Unfortunately, there's no hint as to whether Alex is male or female, which would make this whole thing a lot easier. She tends to find it easier talking to women for some reason. Perhaps because she grew up being taught that emotions were just a girl thing or she finds it uncomfortable seeing men being so weak... She's not sure. But, yeah, she finds herself silently praying Alex is a she.

Her prayers are answered by a God she doesn't believe in when the sound of a hesitant knock ricochets around her office.

It's hesitant in that she sees a blurred figure through the frosted glass panel in the door about seven seconds before the person on the other side even attempts to make contact.

"Come in!"

It's hesitant in that her next patient takes a further six seconds to compose themselves before they even begin to open the door.

She hears the shaky exhalation of breath and witnesses vulnerability transform into hard indifference in the unfamiliar woman's dark eyes; obscured though they are by black-rimmed glasses and dark hair that flows down past her shoulders and frames her pale, porcelain features.

"Alex, right?" Piper says, glancing upwards, a smile tugging at her lips although for unknown reasons it feels like all the air has been knocked out of her lungs.

"Uh... Yeah..." Alex responds, eyes darting from each corner of the room to the next, already looking desperate to leave despite still standing in the doorway.

"Great, I'm Piper," the blonde tries her hardest to appear unfazed by the brunette's startlingly deep voice and ridiculous height. "Well, you might as well come and sit down, I don't bite."

Piper waves her hand in the general direction of the chair on the other side of her large desk. Alex's eyes shut for a moment as she releases a quiet but deep sigh. She isn't scared or nervous. Not in the slightest. You can see that just by taking a quick glance at her face. She doesn't scare easily at all.

Alex Vause is a cocky student being sent to the principal's office for something she feels no remorse for doing.

Alex Vause is a girl who gets caught drinking underage by the police and runs away laughing.

To put it bluntly, Alex Vause is someone who doesn't give a fuck.

She raises her eyebrows slightly before accepting the offer and sitting down heavily, resembling a petulant child being told to sit on the naughty step. She looks straight into Piper's eyes with a look that says come on, let's see how good you are at your job. Piper stares back, unwavering gaze locked on Alex's face and for the first time since she started this job she's speechless. (She's not really sure why yet, but we'll get to that later.)

"So, Alex, what brings you here today?" Piper begins quietly, using her best I know why you're here but I want you to say it instead voice.

Alex's face goes from bored to confused instantly. "Don't you already know that?" She laughs to herself quietly, it's a bad laugh, the kind of laugh you do when you're so fucking done. "I'm here because I need help... Apparently."

"By 'apparently' do you mean you're not here by choice?"

"No way," there's that laugh again. "This wasn't my idea at all. I'm fine, I'm recovering, I don't need this."

"Why are you here then?" Piper enquires, kind of astounded that Alex is actually talking to her, even though she isn't saying much. A part of her was expecting to be sitting here in awkward silence for the next hour.

That happens a lot at the beginning with new patients. A lot of the time they're just nervous about having a complete stranger ask about their deepest fears and darkest thoughts. Sometimes, however, some people care so little for their thoughts that they'll express them openly. Alex is one of those people. She knows life is short, but she doesn't care for most of it.

"People don't really like my coping techniques, I guess," She shrugs, dragging Piper away from her thoughts and back to the situation unfolding in the large, bright room they're in. "Apparently swapping drugs with drink doesn't really solve the problem, but hey, vodka's a hell of a lot cheaper than heroin."

She has a point, Piper muses. She notices Alex falter for a moment as she looks down towards her hands, her fingers interlocking and thumbs dueling as if she's deep in thought or lost in a war against herself.

"You still drink?"

"Yeah, but it isn't a problem. I'm sober right now, and most alcoholics are never sober, so I'm winning in that respect."

Piper clears her throat, shifting in her seat slightly, resting her chin on a clenched fist.

"You said you're recovering?" Alex nods. "Why?"

"Uh… Because drugs are bad?" The brunette replies, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

"No, no, no- Well, yeah, I mean, drugs are pretty bad, but that's not what I meant." Piper rambles, and Alex feels her lips tug at the corners upon noticing Piper uses her hands a lot when she gets carried away in conversation. "What made you choose recovery? What motivated you?"

"What made you choose this job?" Alex counters quickly, her sudden smug expression not faltering for a second, folding her arms tightly in front of her.

"You didn't answer my question, Alex."

"You didn't answer mine, Piper."

Piper ignores the shiver that runs up her spine at the way her name sounds when Alex says it; she was never too keen on her name, but now it's growing on her for some reason.

"Because I wanted to help people?" Piper replies, though it comes out as more of a question than an answer.

"No, it's deeper than that, you're an open book."

Alex likes to take control of situations when she feels she lacks it, it's a skill she mastered from a young age. She is manipulative and persuasive and it's pretty much the only thing she likes about herself.

"Uh... I erm..." Piper stutters a little, mind swirling and whirling with thoughts travelling a thousand miles an hour because fuck Alex's eyes are fixed on her so pointedly it's the biggest distraction she's ever known. She can see green irises and perfect black eyeliner flicks beneath the lenses of her glasses and a part of her wishes she'd take them off so she can get a better look. She blames her scattered thoughts on tiredness though, of course. "I've seen what mental illnesses can do to people. That's why I do this. It scares me."

Alex nods, a certain look taints her features and it makes Piper release a breath she didn't realise she was holding.

"Then there's your answer," Alex shrugs, "I've seen what drugs can do to people. That's why I 'chose recovery', if that's how you want to put it. It scares me too."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Fucking therapy," the brunette scoffs, failing to compose herself as a deep sarcastic laugh continues to roll up her throat and off the tip of her tongue. "Why do people think that talking about your problems will make it any better?"

"Some people who are struggling with something in life find it helpful to get in touch with their feelings." Piper offers in response, and God it makes her want to punch herself in the face. What a fucking cliché.

"Did it ever occur to you that we don't want to get in touch with our feelings? That actually feeling our feelings might make it impossible to survive in this world?

It isn't anger that she's feeling. Piper can see that in the way her demeanor doesn't shift an inch. Until the end, that is, when Alex sighs so quietly it's barely audible and her eyes lose the playful gleam when she closes them and opens them again. They're a little bit darker, too, because behind the indifference there is pain, veiled by a thin wall of defensiveness.

Right now, Alex is full of disappointment and frustration and an irreversible need to be anywhere but here, doing anything but this.

"In all honesty, I'm tired of all this therapy bullshit. I'm tired of things not killing me and only making me stronger. Now, are we done here?" Alex barks suddenly, shifting in her seat agitatedly.

"No, I-"

"Well, I'd like to be done. I haven't got anything else to say."

She goes to stand and Piper surprises herself with how desperate she is to make Alex stay. They've known each other for less than 15 minutes and Alex Vause is already a rollercoaster that Piper isn't sure she's ready to get off just yet.

"Please, Alex, don't go," It comes out like a plea and for the first time in a long time Piper feels so fucking weak. "Let me help you. Please."

Alex stops in the center of the room, back facing the blonde whose eyes currently resemble those of a terrified child. "What can you possibly do? You don't know anything about me or what I'm going through." She whispers, just loud enough to hear through the deafening silence engulfing them, though she's clearly in no rush to turn around.

"Then tell me," Piper responds in a heartbeat, shrugging slightly even though Alex isn't looking at her. "I want to know everything. You don't have to talk about yourself. Tell me about your mum… or your dad."

If anyone could see Alex in that moment, she'd kick herself for looking so vulnerable. She's biting her bottom lip to the point of pain to stop its relentless trembling; eyelids closing slowly and reopening with unbidden tears resting within, the liquid obscuring her view so the door in front of her fizzles beyond recognition; heart pounding excruciatingly against her ribcage so hard she wonders how on Earth it can't be heard out loud, just felt deep within.

Don't do it. Don't let her in.

"No," Alex's voice remains quiet so it doesn't break. She turns her head a little, eyes fixing upon a slight blemish in the paint on the wall to her side, refusing to look directly at her therapist. "I'm done for today."

For a second, all is quiet. Then, suddenly, she can hear Piper's light footsteps growing closer behind her and her heart begins to thud even more forcefully.

The blonde approaches her carefully, like a timid child approaching a stranger, and places a card in her hand with the lightest of touches, careful not to make direct contact with her skin. "My cell number is on there, promise me you'll call me when you're ready and we can try again."

Alex nods slowly, fiddling with the card in her hand, toying with the sharp corners and wishing she could be folded small too.

And with that, she's gone, fast as lightening, bolting out the door and down the corridor so quickly Piper only hears a few hurried footsteps before all traces of Alex's presence have disappeared.

Suddenly, she feels cold. It's the kind of cold that accompanies loneliness on a dark night. It's the kind of cold she feels when she's overwhelmed by uselessness. She turns, makes her way to her desk and sits down heavily. Her face finds her palms once again as she leans her elbows on the hard wood, welcoming the darkness so forcefully she begins to see stars amongst the blackness of her vision.

Piper goes home feeling heavy that evening, weighed down by thoughts of the enigma that is Alex Vause.

Alex, on the other hand, goes home and drinks. She doesn't remember how she made it to bed when she wakes up the next morning, though when she regains some semblance of consciousness, she's slapped in the face with a memory of bright blue eyes and an incandescent smile that makes her stomach do a little flip.

And even she can admit it isn't down to the alcohol.

A/N: it gets better, promise.