💘( The Price of Freedom! )✨

SIX

[ Season Six ]

( 💊🚬🍷💉🏍💸 )

" This isn't just a piece of metal. It's proof that I can fight. That I can keep going. And now, with my release coming up, I have something to fight for again. My daughter."

~ NESSA TRAGER 

☆《》¤

THE CELLBLOCK WAS QUIETER THAN USUAL, the early morning light creeping through the barred windows as the reality of the day settled over Nessa. This was it—her last day in prison. She'd waited years for this moment, fought tooth and nail for the chance to leave this place behind. But before she walked out those gates, she needed one final mark, one last piece of her story etched into her skin.

Valya sat across from her, setting up her makeshift tattoo kit with practiced precision. They had done this dance before. Prison tattoos weren't new to Nessa—her body was already a canvas of memories, pain, and love. But this one was different. This one symbolised freedom, a fresh start.

"You sure about this?" Valya asked, her tone teasing but her expression serious as she glanced up from her work.

Nessa smirked, positioning herself the right way, so Valya could tattoo her easily, "You're the one with the needle. You getting cold feet?"

Valya snorted, shaking her head, "Not a chance, babe. Just want to make sure it's perfect. You don't get to complain about my work later when you're out there flashing it around."

Nessa chuckled, but there was a flicker of something deeper in her eyes—anticipation mixed with a tinge of fear, "I won't. This one's important."

Valya nodded, dipping the needle into the makeshift ink, "Hold still. Let's do this."

As Valya worked, Nessa's mind wandered, her gaze drifting to the tattoos already on her body. Each one told a story, a piece of her life she couldn't erase.

Her fingers brushed absent-mindedly over her thigh, where Juice's crow perched on a skull, a testament to the love she'd once felt so deeply it burned. The intricate details of the mechanical skull, the wire in the crow's beak—it was all him, every bit of what he had meant to her. She'd never been able to cover it up or remove it, even when she wanted to. Maybe it was her way of keeping herself from falling that hard again, a reminder of what love could do to you. 

Her back bore the sunrise breaking through dark clouds—a tribute to Dawn, her baby sister, the light in her darkest moments. The dates woven into the design were subtle, but Nessa knew them by heart. Every sunrise reminded her of the sister she'd lost too soon.

On her wrist, Tiny was inked, the letters playful and bright. Her daughter's nickname always brought a smile to her face, even in the bleakest moments. It was her reminder of why she kept fighting, even in this place.

The dagger wrapped in roses on her ribcage was another complicated story—a symbol of her family, of pain and beauty interwoven. Love could hurt, but it was worth it.

Her phoenix tattoo stretched along her forearm, a vibrant testament to her resilience. Rising from the ashes wasn't just a metaphor—it was her life.

Then, behind her ear was a little teddy bear sitting on a Lily pad to remind her of the girl who touched her heart and soul in all the best ways. 

And now, the broken handcuffs with wings Valya was carefully crafting on her collarbone would complete the narrative. It wasn't just about leaving prison; it was about breaking free from her past, from the chains that had held her back for so long.

"There," Valya said after what felt like hours, sitting back to admire her work. She wiped the inked skin gently with a damp cloth, revealing the fresh tattoo.

Nessa sat up, wincing slightly at the sting as she moved to the small mirror propped up on the table. The design was perfect—delicate yet powerful. The broken handcuffs were intricate, the wings spread wide as if they were about to take flight.

"What do you think?" Valya asked, watching her carefully.

Nessa traced the edges of the tattoo with her fingers, a faint smile tugging at her lips, "It's perfect."

Valya leaned against the table, crossing her arms, "Good. You deserve this, you know. To start over. To be free."

Nessa looked at her, her expression softening, "I couldn't have done this without you. Any of it."

Valya smirked but didn't reply, her loyalty and affection clear in her gaze. She stepped closer, pressing a kiss to Nessa's lips before pulling back, "You ready for this?" she asked, her voice quieter now.

Nessa took a deep breath, "Yeah. I'm ready."

The sound of the morning bell echoed through the cellblock, signalling the start of a new day. For Nessa, it was the start of a new life.

***

Plastic chairs formed a circle in the corner of the recreation hall, a space carved out for those who needed it most. Nessa sat next to Valya, her foot tapping nervously against the concrete floor. She'd been to countless meetings, but this one felt different. Special.

Valya leaned in, her voice low, "Relax, you're gonna do great, baby." 

Nessa shot her a grateful smile, but her nerves didn't ease, "Easy for you to say. You're not the one about to spill your guts."

"True," Valya said with a small smirk. "But I'll be right here. Always am."

The meeting started as it always did, the group leader calling everyone to order. They went around the circle, each woman sharing her story or struggles. Some spoke with pride about their sobriety, others with pain about their slip-ups. The honesty in the room was raw—unfiltered.

When it was Nessa's turn, she took a deep breath and stood, her hands trembling slightly as she held her one-year chip. The small coin felt heavier than it looked, its meaning far greater than its size.

"Hi, I'm Nessa," she began, her voice steady despite her nerves. "And I'm a drug addict." 

"Hi, Nessa," the group echoed back.

She glanced down at the chip in her hand before looking up, her gaze sweeping over the women around her, "One year sober. I didn't think I'd make it this far. Hell, there were days I didn't think I'd make it at all."

The room was silent, everyone hanging onto every word. 

"When I first came in here, I thought I was broken. That I'd lost everything that mattered. My family, my freedom, my daughter." Her voice caught slightly, but she pushed through. "I thought this place would kill me. And maybe it would have if I hadn't found people who believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself."

She turned to Valya, her eyes softening, "Val, you've been my rock. My anchor. You've stood by me through my worst days, even when I didn't deserve it. I don't know how I would've made it through without you."

Valya's lips curved into a small smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Nessa shifted her gaze to the rest of the group, "And to all of you, thank you. For listening, for sharing, for showing me that I'm not alone. You've given me strength I didn't know I had."

She held up the chip, her grip firm, "This isn't just a piece of metal. It's proof that I can fight. That I can keep going. And now, with my release coming up, I have something to fight for again. My daughter."

Her voice softened, and for a moment, the vulnerability she tried so hard to hide bled through, "I can't wait to see her. To hold her. To show her that I'm not the same person who walked into this place. I've still got a lot of work to do, but I'm ready for it. For her."

The group erupted into soft applause, a few women nodding in encouragement. Nessa sat down, her cheeks flushed with emotion. 

Valya leaned over, squeezing her hand, "You killed it, babe," she whispered, her voice warm with pride.

Nessa exhaled, a small laugh escaping her lips, "Thanks. For everything."

Valya brushed a strand of hair from Nessa's face, her expression tender, "Always."

The meeting continued, but Nessa felt a weight lift off her shoulders. For the first time in years, she felt truly hopeful. The chip in her hand wasn't just a symbol of her sobriety—it was a promise to herself and to the people she loved.

When the meeting ended, Nessa and Valya lingered for a moment. Nessa sat on the edge of one of the tables, her fingers idly spinning her one-year sober chip as she stared at nothing in particular.

Valya leaned against the wall across from her, her deep brown eyes fixed on Nessa. The tension between them was palpable, a mix of longing and heartbreak that neither could put into words.

"You're really leaving," Valya said, her voice breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Nessa replied softly, her gaze still distant.

Valya pushed off the wall and approached her, stopping a few feet away, "I should be happy for you," she said, her tone low and raw. "But all I feel is like I'm losing you."

Nessa finally looked at her, her eyes glistening, "I'm going to miss you, Val. More than you know."

"When you're out there in the real world, and you find some guy who makes your heart race, promise me one thing—don't forget me. Don't forget the way I made you feel, the way I made you tremble, the way I made you scream my name like no one else ever could. Remember that, Ness...even when you're in love with him, remember me," Valya said, stepping closer until she was standing between Nessa's knees.

"How could I ever forget you?" Nessa whispered, her voice trembling as Valya's hands rested gently on her thighs.

Valya didn't answer. Instead, she leaned in, capturing Nessa's lips in a kiss that was filled with desperation and raw, undeniable affection. Nessa responded immediately, her arms wrapping around Valya's neck as the kiss deepened.

Valya's hands slid up, pushing Nessa's legs further apart as she moved closer. When their lips finally parted, Nessa was breathless, her cheeks flushed.

"Here?" Nessa asked, her voice barely audible as she glanced around the empty room for any sign of a guard or another inmate. 

Valya smirked, her eyes dark with desire, "Why not? One last time. Let me take care of you, baby." 

Before Nessa could respond, Valya's hands moved to her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the table. She knelt down, her hands sliding up Nessa's thighs, pulling off her pants and underwear. Nessa shivered at the touch, her breath hitching as Valya kissed the inside of her knee, then higher.

"Val..." Nessa murmured, her voice a mix of need and hesitation.

"Let me..." Valya said softly, her eyes locking with Nessa's. "Let me say goodbye the only way I know how." 

Nessa exhaled shakily, her legs falling open as Valya's lips pressed against her inner thigh. The world around them seemed to disappear as Valya's kisses grew bolder, her hands gripping Nessa's hips to hold her steady.

When Valya's tongue finally found her core, Nessa gasped, her fingers tangling in Valya's thick curly hair. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed her, a blend of pleasure and sorrow that left her trembling. Valya moved with purpose, her mouth and tongue worshipping Nessa like she was the only thing that mattered.

Nessa's back arched, her head tilting back as she moaned softly, her body responding to every touch and movement. Valya's hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer, refusing to let her escape the sensations she was creating.

It was passionate and raw, a farewell that spoke volumes in its silence. When Nessa finally came undone, her cries echoing softly in the empty room, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Valya rested her head against Nessa's thigh, her breathing uneven, "I'll never forget you," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Nessa reached down, her fingers brushing through Valya's hair, "I'll never forget you either."

For a moment, they stayed like that, the weight of their goodbye settling over them. When Valya finally stood, Nessa pulled her into a kiss, pouring everything she felt into it.

***

NESSA'S OUTFIT 

The metallic clang of the prison gates echoed through the block, a sound Nessa had grown numb to over the years. But today, it rang differently. Final. For the first time in what felt like forever, those gates weren't just a barrier. They were an exit. Freedom.

Nessa stood at the end of the corridor, her small bag of belongings slung over her shoulder. The clothes she'd arrived in two years ago felt foreign against her skin, as though they belonged to someone else entirely.

She turned to face her girls—her family. Each of them stood in a loose cluster, their faces a mix of pride and sadness. Valya was front and center, her expression unreadable, though her eyes betrayed the storm of emotions raging inside her.

"This is it," Nessa said, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat.

"You're really leaving us, huh?" one of the women joked, though her voice cracked.

Nessa smirked, her usual confidence wavering, "Told you all I wasn't planning on staying forever."

There was a small, bittersweet chuckle from the group. They knew this moment was inevitable, but it didn't make it any easier.

One by one, the girls stepped forward to hug her. Each goodbye felt like another brick added to the wall of emotions threatening to crush her. When it was Valya's turn, the others respectfully stepped back, giving them space.

Valya stared at her, arms crossed, her jaw tight, "So, this is it, huh? You're leaving me to hold down the fort?"

"Guess you'll have to step up now," Nessa said, her attempt at teasing falling flat.

Valya didn't laugh. Instead, she grabbed Nessa by the shoulders, her grip firm, "You deserve this, Ness. Don't you dare waste it. You hear me?"

"I hear you," Nessa replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Valya's expression softened, and for a moment, the mask of the hardened soldier slipped. She pulled Nessa into a tight embrace, holding her as though letting go might break her, "I'm proud of you," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion.

Nessa swallowed hard, her own tears threatening to spill, "I'm gonna miss you, Val. All of you."

"You won't have to," Valya said, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. "We'll find each other again. Somehow."

Nessa nodded, though deep down, she wasn't sure if she believed it. The life waiting for her outside these walls felt like a different world entirely.

The sound of a guard clearing their throat broke the moment, "Time to go."

Nessa turned to face the group one last time, "Take care of each other, alright? And Val—"

"I know," Valya said, her lips curving into a small, sad smile. "I've got this."

With a final nod, Nessa turned and walked toward the gates. She didn't look back. She couldn't. The weight of the goodbyes was too much to bear.

As the gates swung open and the sunlight hit her face, she squinted against the brightness. It was almost blinding, a stark contrast to the dim, oppressive lighting of the prison. She took a deep breath, the air outside feeling lighter, freer.

The world was waiting. And so was her daughter.  

***

The crisp afternoon air felt foreign against Nessa's skin. She stood just outside the prison gates, her small bag slung over her shoulder, her fingers gripping the strap tightly. Every sound seemed sharper—the hum of passing cars, the distant chirp of birds. It was a stark contrast to the dull, oppressive noise she had grown used to inside.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, glancing up and down the road. Her chest tightened as the minutes ticked by. She hated waiting. It gave her too much time to think.

The rumble of an approaching engine snapped her from her thoughts. A familiar car came into view, pulling up to the curb with a slow, deliberate stop. Nessa's grip on her bag tightened.

The driver's side window rolled down, and there she was. DiDi.

"Get in," her mother said, her tone clipped.

Nessa hesitated for a moment before walking over and opening the passenger door. She slid into the seat, the leather cool against her skin. DiDi didn't say anything, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she stared straight ahead.

"Thanks for picking me up," Nessa said, her voice quiet.

DiDi shrugged, her gaze still on the road, "What was I supposed to do? Leave you stranded out here?"

The tension in the car was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Nessa shifted in her seat, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on her.

"I didn't expect you to come," Nessa admitted, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery as the car began to move.

"Yeah, well," DiDi started, her voice tinged with a mix of sarcasm and something softer. "I couldn't exactly let my daughter hitchhike home, could I?"

The words stung more than Nessa expected, 'My daughter.' It felt like a title DiDi wasn't entirely sure she wanted to claim anymore.

Silence settled between them again, heavy and uncomfortable. Nessa could feel the tension rolling off her mother in waves, could see it in the way her knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel.

"Look," DiDi said suddenly, breaking the silence, "I'm not going to pretend I understand everything that's happened. But I'm not here to argue with you. Not today."

Nessa clenched her jaw, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag, "I wasn't looking for a fight."

"Good," DiDi said shortly, though her tone didn't suggest relief.

They drove in silence for a few more minutes, the sound of the tires on the asphalt the only thing filling the space between them. Nessa stole a glance at her mother. She looked older, more tired than Nessa remembered.

"How's Mel?" Nessa asked finally, her voice cracking slightly.

"She's fine," DiDi replied, her tone softening for the first time. "She's been asking about you."

Nessa's heart twisted at the thought of her daughter, "I'm gonna make things right with her."

DiDi glanced at her briefly, her expression unreadable, "That's between you and her, Vanessa. Just don't make promises you can't keep."

The words stung, but Nessa knew they weren't entirely undeserved. She swallowed hard, nodding.

The rest of the ride passed in tense silence, the weight of their complicated history hanging over them. When they finally pulled into the driveway of DiDi's modest home, Nessa let out a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding.

As she reached for the door handle, DiDi spoke again, "You've got a lot to prove, Vanessa. To her. To me. To Quentin." 

Nessa paused, her hand gripping the handle tightly at the mention of her ex-boyfriend, "I know."

DiDi didn't say anything else. Nessa stepped out of the car, the sun warming her face as she looked up at the house. It was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, much like her mother.

She squared her shoulders, clutching her bag tightly. It was time to face the next chapter, no matter how difficult it might be.

*** 

The familiar sight of her old house loomed ahead as the car rolled to a stop. Nessa's heart was pounding, her hands damp as she clutched her bag. She stared at the faded paint and the cracked driveway, every detail sending a mix of emotions surging through her.

DiDi didn't cut the engine. She kept her eyes on the road ahead, hands still firmly on the wheel.

"You sure about this?" her mother asked, her tone sharp but not unkind.

Nessa swallowed hard and nodded, "I have to see her."

DiDi didn't respond, just let out a sigh that said more than words could. As Nessa stepped out of the car, her mother called out, "Don't make this worse than it already is."

Nessa ignored her, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking toward the door as DiDi drove off. Each step felt heavier than the last. By the time she reached the porch, her breath was shallow, her chest tight.

She knocked. The sound echoed, hollow and uncertain, as if the house itself wasn't sure it wanted her there.

For a moment, there was silence. Then she heard footsteps. The door swung open, and there he was—Quentin.

He looked the same but different, older in a way that spoke of stress and resentment. His eyes locked onto hers, his expression hard, "Nessa," he said, his voice flat.

"Quen," she replied, trying to steady her voice. "I was hoping I could see her for a bit."

He stepped out onto the porch, pulling the door partially closed behind him, "I don't think that's a good idea." 

Her stomach dropped, "What?"

"You heard me," he snapped. "You think you can just walk back in here like nothing happened, Nessa? You ain't taking her from me. You gave up your chance to be a mother the day you chose drugs over us."

Nessa flinched as if he'd slapped her., "I didn't—"

"Don't," he cut her off, his voice rising. "Don't stand there and act like you didn't screw everything up. You think going to jail fixes things? You think you get a clean slate because you've done your time?"

"I went to jail for you!" she shot back, her voice trembling with anger and hurt.

"After you stuffed up!" he spat, his words venomous. "You want a medal for that? You think that makes you a saint?"

Tears welled up in Nessa's eyes, but she refused to let them fall, "She's my daughter, Quentin."

"And she's better off without you." His words were like a knife to the heart.

"Please," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I just want to see her. Just for a minute."

He shook his head, his jaw tight, "No. You're not dragging her into your mess again. She's happy. She's safe. I'm not letting you ruin that."

Nessa's hands clenched into fists at her sides, "You don't get to decide that."

"Like hell I don't," he shot back. "You gave me that right the second you walked out on us."

"I didn't walk out," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"No," he said coldly. "You fell. And you dragged us both down with you."

The door opened slightly behind him, and for a brief moment, Nessa caught a glimpse of Tiny's little face peeking out, curiosity in her wide eyes.

"Tiny," Nessa breathed, her voice breaking.

Quentin turned, quickly pushing the door closed, "Go back inside, sweetheart," he said gently, his tone completely different when speaking to their daughter.

"No!" Nessa cried, her composure shattering. "Please, Quentin. Let me see her. Please! I'll do anything you want, I just want to see my baby girl." 

He turned back to her, his expression ice cold, "Don't come back here ever again. You're not welcome here." 

And with that, he stepped back inside and slammed the door in her face. 

Nessa stood there, frozen, the sound of the door reverberating in her ears. The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaming down her cheeks as she stared at the closed door.

Her legs felt weak, and she sank to the porch steps, her head in her hands. The weight of his words crushed her, but the image of Tiny's face burned brighter in her mind.

She had to find a way to get her daughter back. Once and for all. 

***

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