I want to share with my readers...my original novel, September Blue, is now available on Amazon and Kindle. The link is available on my profile page or by searching for "September Blue" by Cat Whitney on Amazon. :-)

2/6/10...So...upon seeing Wicked today, this oneshot came to me. It hit me when the Wizard says, "I know you must get lonely, too. Wouldn't you like someone to take care of you...?"
Hence, this is musicalverse.

Also, I got to go backstage after the show today. Good things come from wearing an Elphie hat. I stood at center stage, which was awesome. I saw the bubble dress and I touched Galinda's wands, and the little green bottles. I saw Elphie's brooms. I was in Wicked heaven. My only wish is to see that Act II dress. Someday, my friend. Someday.

Elphaba ran. She ran so hard her legs cramped and her vision swam. Her breath came in heaving gasps and her body cried out in pain. Still, she ran. She couldn't stop. Stopping would mean surrendering, possibly dying, and she refused to die as their prisoner. If she died, it would be with her body shielding a helpless Animal, or perhaps she would fling herself off a Vinkun cliff when they'd chased her as far as she could run. She would run, though. She would run until her body gave out, rather than give in.

The forest had become quite dense, and Elphaba slowed a little. She listened, trying to determine how many of the Gale Force were still following her. She heard the distant sounds of rustling brush and the shouts of the officers. She couldn't risk flying with them this close, as they were likely to shoot her out of the sky. So she pushed herself a little further, until she came upon a towering quoxwood tree. It was unusual to find one this far south, and its branches spread impossibly high into the starlit sky.

Elphaba stopped and quickly buried her broom in the thick brush beneath the tree. Then, she seized the lowest limbs and began hauling herself up. She snagged her dress over and over again on the rough bark, and the leaves and twigs became impossibly tangled in her hair. Finally, when she could push no further and her breath was coming in wheezing gasps, she curled herself into the crook of the tree.

She was maybe twenty feet up, and Elphaba prayed that the black of her dress and the green of her skin would make her invisible. She scanned the area around her, taking advantage of this higher perspective. She could see no one, but the sounds of running and shouting still echoed in the distance. She had started to relax when she suddenly heard the sound of careful footsteps below her. Elphaba clutched the tree and tried not to breathe.

"Elphaba!" she heard a hoarse whisper, "Elphaba?"

She froze, and her heart jumped into her throat. It was him. She could just make out the green of his coat and the gleam of his musket in the moonlight. It was Fiyero, searching about ten feet from the tree and calling her name.

Elphaba fought the urge to shimmy down the tree and run to him. His voice was like a warm blanket, and she wanted to be covered in the familiarity of it. In the night, the sound of her name on his lips was like being called home from a long, horrible nightmare. Still, he wasn't hers. Fiyero belonged to Galinda and he was searching for her in the name of the Wizard. To go to him would mean giving up, captivity, or perhaps a very public death.

So Elphaba stayed there, clinging to the tree while Fiyero's calls became more desperate.

"Elphaba!" he called, "I know you're here. You might be able to fly, but you cannot disappear…"

Elphaba squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to hear his voice. Her mind flooded suddenly with memories of Shiz. She knew the images were probably a bit glossed over with false happiness in her mind, but she didn't care.

She remembered Fiyero casually throwing out, "You don't have to do that…" He had no idea he had melted her heart.

She remembered when he had run with her into the woods with the trembling Lion cub and she had realized how alone they were. It was the closest she'd ever come to something resembling a romantic moment. It was the only time a boy had ever touched her.

Elphaba remembered when she'd been about to board the train for the city, and Fiyero had brought her flowers. She'd never seen him bring Galinda flowers. He was too thoughtless. Elphaba knew that Galinda had been upset about it, although she was too innocent to blame Elphaba for Fiyero's behavior.

Now, Elphaba tried to shake off the memories. That time was long gone. Those friends were long gone. She'd made herself the enemy of Oz, and the consequences were hers to bear.

Still, as Fiyero began to walk away through the brush, something deep within her began to ache. Elphaba could still hear his voice, as her name rolled off his tongue. She wanted to run to him and see if he would take her to safety, as he had the lion cub. She wanted him to care that much again, for her.

She didn't move though, until his voice faded and the forest was quiet. Elphaba climbed down slowly, then, and dropped softly to the forest floor. She unearthed the broom and then stood there, listening again. Her body ached and begged for rest. Her hair was impossibly tangled and her dress was further torn. She knew she must look more like some strange, forest creature than a woman. Usually, she failed to notice, but tonight the ache within her grew to the point of unbearable.

She was alone. She was safe again, alone. It was how she spent most of every day. Elphaba ran and then slept, and then ran even more. She occasionally came across a kind-hearted Animal, but the company was fleeting. The majority of time was spent with just her thoughts, trying to figure out how to make something out of the mess of her life.

The moments when she stopped running were always difficult, but this night was particularly painful. She had been just feet from Fiyero. He'd been close enough that she could have touched him. It made her realize how truly alone she was. It made her realize the difference between alone, and lonely. She'd always enjoyed alone, but lonely was becoming a suffocating cross to bear. The ache in her chest grew stronger, and became a sharp knot in her throat. Elphaba didn't realize how close she was to tears until her eyes filled and they spilled over. She wiped them away furiously.

She wrapped her arms around herself and slid down to sit against the trunk of the tree. She didn't want to let her mind loose in this dark, cold place where she was fighting tears, but she'd run herself out. Realization crashed over her, making the silence around her sound like a roaring wave.

You gave up your only friend. You walked away from the one person who ever cared. You're running in circles, accomplishing very little. You've gone from being slightly repulsive to being reviled and feared. You've never been touched by a man…

The last thought brought up a sob, and Elphaba angrily bit it back, wanting it not to matter. Still, she was just so damn lonely. It hurt so bad she grit her teeth and clenched her fingernails into her palms. In spite of herself, she wanted to be…wanted. She had wanted Fiyero to want her, and he had chosen beautiful Galinda. It was what she expected, but the hurt was the same. She'd wanted just one person to stand with her, and instead she was trembling in this dark forest, alone.

Elphaba fought the tears until the shear effort made her sick. She finally leaned forward and placed her hands beside her knees, and she cried. The sobs came out in heaving gasps and the tears blurred her vision. She clutched at the leaves and her body shook as she cried with everything in her. She was, after all, still human. She was not the wicked witch, as she'd been unwillingly cast. She was a young woman. She had needs she couldn't express, and desires that were destined to go unfulfilled.

Elphaba wiped desperately at her face, trying to stem the awful tears. She didn't have time for this. She didn't have time for feelings. She'd known what she was since birth. Her father had made it abundantly clear. She was the green baby, the artichoke, the freak, and now the Wicked Witch. The wicked were meant to be alone. The wicked did not have friends or lovers.

Still, crouched on the forest floor, crushed under the weight of her loneliness, Elphaba felt anything but wicked. She felt like the little girl she'd once been, just wanting someone to touch her. As a fresh wave of sobs overcame her, she leaned back against the tree again and wrapped her arms around her own body. She tried to pretend someone else was holding her. She imagined someone, anyone, had pulled her close and would wipe away the tears.

Then she unwillingly imagined him, and his name stuck in her mind as she tried to get her raging emotions under control.

Fiyero.

But he was gone, and Elphaba was alone.