Author's Note: This is pretty angsty. I'm making an exception to my no-angst policy. Canon divergence of season 5, in which Lorna isn't pregnant. This is a song fic of Lack by Told Slant ( watch?v=A4pnyHt8N40). As always, the lyrics are both bold and italicized. This is such a sad song, and the lyrics kept making me think of Nichorello. Yes, this is the same song that inspired a chapter of handsome Girl. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! WARNING: This fic contains discussion of drug addiction and drug abuse, references to child neglect and child abuse, self-hatred, psychosis and its symptoms, depression and its symptoms, internalized queerphobia/homophobia/lesbophobia/biphobia, queerphobic/homophobic/lesbophobic language, self-denial, self-harm, vomit, blood, emotional manipulation, unhealthy/dysfunctional/toxic relationships, self-destruction, unhealthy coping mechanisms, and sex.

I want to swim way out

where the sand slopes down

They both want to get out. In their own ways, that is. Nicky notices Lorna's hesitance, even when talking about her dream-life outside of Litchfield. She doesn't do anything but nod, and agree. Even with her heart in her throat, because this is only temporary, she doesn't love you.

Lorna fantasizes about living someplace warm, where she can see the water. She only asks once what Nicky wants when she gets out. The blonde had gotten a look on her face. The look was almost as bad as the look on her face when she was being dragged away to MAX, months ago. She never answered.

Where all I have to think about

are my muscles and

my arms and legs

and the blood and oxygen in them

Nicky knows why she does drugs. Or, did do drugs. Three weeks sober, everybody, aren't you proud of me now? Do you love me now? Please love me.

She needs something tactile or else her mind will destroy her. That's how she's always been. If it isn't drugs, it's something else. Biting or picking at her nails, pulling her hair, fucking. Whatever, as long as it makes her fucking feel something.

She never realized before feeling things could be this bad. Sure, she grew up without any real parents, and has had her fair share of heartbreaks. But nothing compares to this.

I don't wanna be a boy

Lorna used to always tell her that if she were a man, that they would be perfect. Nicky tried so hard to laugh it off, even when she was being gutted from inside. Why the fuck do I have to be in love with her? What's fucking wrong with me? Am I just stuck rotting emotionally, trying to find love that will never be there, no matter what I do?

Nicky doesn't comment on the fact that if she were born a man, she could still be gay, and so that wouldn't be of much good. Fuck it. I am who I am.

And you don't wanna be a girl

Another one of Lorna's favorite comments is that if she herself weren't a woman, then maybe it could work. Now, that, Nicky does laugh at. Because as much as she hates thinking about it, she probably would still love Lorna just as much, lesbianism be damned.

Is she really straight of is she so in denial that it doesn't even matter anymore? I mean, situational gayness is absolutely a thing, but this is ridiculous. No. It's just fucking sad. Sad for both of us. Neither of us will get what we want, and we're both stuck lying to ourselves. Just like always.

I hate the way your friends make me feel

Nicky's seen Lorna in visitation with her husband. She grinds her teeth, and tugs her hair, and tries not to cry when they kiss and smile. Why do I always do this to myself?

Deep down, she knows that it's because she just hates herself that fucking much. However, sometimes it's easier to avoid hard truths. Sometimes it makes her feel better, if only for a little while. God, now I'm even fucking thinking like her.

Denial is the best drug there is, in Nicky's humble opinion. It's a better high than heroin and sex with somebody you love, combined. At least, that's what she says.

I was not myself

Coming to prison was not something Lorna planned. She's always been needy. Always needing affection, and attention, from anyone who'll give it.

So, it's not really a bad thing when she agrees to be the prison wife of an ex-junkie with a lion's mane. She just needs love in here, after all. I'm sure everyone in here does this.

But things didn't go as she planned. They never do. After months and years with her, the tiny brunette has started to feel things for her friend.

She tells herself she's straight, and that it's just because it's the closest thing to a boyfriend she's had since coming here. She's lonely for a man, that's all. She's projecting her feelings onto her friend. That has to be it.

But it was love I felt

when you tied my hands back with my belt

It was Nicky's idea, surprisingly for them to have some kind of anniversary thing. It's not a real anniversary celebration, because they're not lovers and this is fucking prison. But it's something.

They most of the night in the chapel, Lorna with her hands tied behind her back using some old Christmas lights found in a box. Nicky's on her knees before her, giving the best present she knows how to give. Except her love. But she gives that without realizing.

Lorna stops that train of thought nearly as soon as it begins, and Nicky sits up from between her legs. She stares at her, smiling, something shining in her eyes. The brunette suddenly has trouble finding her breath, because she's looking at you like that because she fucking loves you.

It's the lack that I still love

Nicky misses the lack of pain. She misses the lack of some stupid fucking stranger getting with the love of her life, after less than three fucking months, Lore, what the fuck?!

Lorna doesn't admit it, even to herself, but she misses it too. Vince is nice, but…He's not Nicky. The brunette bites the inside of her cheek, as a reminder not to think. Don't think, just do. Just do what you've gotta do. Nicky can't be what you need.

Lorna knows that that thought is a lie, before she even finishes thinking it. But, she's just surviving. She's doing things, even if she doesn't understand why, because that's just what she does. It's how she's always lived, and it's too late now to figure out another way to cope.

The space between the punch and the pain that comes

Nicky's never been one to act angrily to her loved ones, even if they've destroyed one of the only things that matters. Instead, she shakes, vomits, cries, punches walls until she bleeds, and tries to find sleep. She almost wishes she wasn't trying so hard to stay clean. It would be so good to not be able to feel this pain anymore. But you can't cheat grief, no matter how hard you try, and no matter what drugs you take.

She wants to get in a fight, and have someone beat the shit out of her. To have her nose broken, and her knuckles bleeding. She would welcome any kind of physical, painful, tactile outlet for this pain.

But it's not in my heart

The only way to get past pain is to let it wash over you, and then gradually distance yourself. Nicky knows that. That's what all her therapists have said. That's what Red says.

Still, she can't find herself leaving Lorna. All she does is let the pain wash over her, and make attempts at being the person that the brunette needs, even if it just fucks her up more. But it's getting harder and harder.

The blonde is honestly not sure how much longer she'll be able to do this. She knows it's bad for her health, and maybe even bad for Lorna's. But, as long as Lorna will have her, she'll stick around. Whether her heart agrees or protests, she'll stay as long as she can. That's the only thought that's been keeping her going. It's not in my heart to leave her.