Disclaimer: The plat of the book and the characters within it belong to Gregory Maguire, whom I am not.
A/N: Maybe it's just me, but I noticed a surprising lack of stories containing what Fiyero could've been experiencing after he died in the book if he were to have become a spirit. As a result, this is a story going over what happened after he died from his perspective (in a way, at least; it's really third person, but oh, well). I hope you enjoy it!
Fiyero lay on the floor of the abandoned corn exchange, blood covering his entire body. It was a strange sensation, feeling the warm, sticky liquid running down his face, his chest, and his limbs on its way to the floor. He could feel it collecting on the ground, forming a crimson pool around his entire body. He was dying, and he knew it.
He was tired, more so than he had ever been before, and his vision was beginning to darken, making the sweet temptation of sleep even harder to resist. His senses were beginning to numb; he could no longer feel his hands or his feet, and his hearing, he could tell, had already begun to diminish, making the occasional drip of his own blood landing on the floor seem like a distant, dull thump.
I must look terrible, he thought groggily in his badly-beaten head, though he found it was a strain to keep his eyes focused for more than a second at a time. I hope Fae won't take this too hard. Yet he knew she would, for he knew her. He could just picture what her reaction would be, and the very thought made him want to put an arm around her and say, "Don't cry, Fae. It'll be all right." But he knew in his heart that it wouldn't. Even if it would, he knew that the chances of him surviving to see her again were slim; he would most likely be dead in the next few minutes. His vision was almost gone, and his body was now almost completely numb.
Finally, sleep overtook him, and he allowed himself to rest for one last time.
The next thing Fiyero knew, he found himself in a familiar room. Very familiar, in fact. Confusedly he looked around for a short moment before his eyes stumbled upon something that stopped him in his tracks. Eyes widening in a mix of horror and shock, he subconsciously took a step back as he stared at the body lying in a pool of blood on the floor. The body wasn't what surprised him the most, however; it was who the body had belonged to. He was staring at his own body lying in the red puddle, unmoving and unbreathing. He couldn't think for a moment, but everything made sense when he looked down at his current form; he looked like he had in life, but he was decidedly translucent and emitting a faint ethereal glow. Before he could observe anything further, he heard a thud from below, which he could only guess was the door downstairs being shoved open.
"What the…?" he heard being muttered from the source of the previous sound, and suddenly, his entire being was filled with dread. The voice was Elphaba's.
"Fiyero?" Elphaba called, a mixture of apprehension and fear evident in her voice. "Fiyero?" she called again, this time louder, having received no response. He heard footsteps running up the stairs at a quick pace as he turned towards the entrance to the room. "No, no, no, no, no…" he heard her whisper to herself, making him more and more anxious as she approached the top step, stopping dead in her tracks as she turned into the entryway, a look of complete horror written on her face. She stood there for what felt like hours, staring at his lifeless form.
"Fiyero?" she said uncharacteristically softly and timidly. "Fiyero, this isn't funny." Her voice cracked slightly as she said it, and Fiyero thought he saw tears building up in her eyes. She took a step towards him.
"Fae, I'm so sorry," he said shakily, but it seemed as though she didn't hear him as she ran to his bloodied body. She put her fingers on his wrists, his neck… anything that she could check for signs of life with. Nothing.
"This is a joke, right? This isn't real. You're going to pop up any minute now, and you're going to laugh at my gullibility. Well, guess what, Fiyero? This isn't funny!" she shouted, grabbing his arm and shaking him desperately as she tried to hold her tears in. Fiyero could do nothing but watch, ghostly tears building in his eyes, as well. The emerald woman soon couldn't hold back her tears anymore, and she collapsed on top of him, sobbing.
"Yero…" she said brokenly through her tears, painful as they must have been. He tentatively walked towards her, as if she would notice him if he moved any faster. After a few seconds, he was at her side, standing over her shaking form that was now cradling his body tightly in her arms, rocking him back and forth. His vision obscured by the strange spectral tears in his eyes, he kneeled down next to her and wrapped her in a tight embrace. Elphaba froze and stiffened at the touch, snapping her head up and setting his body gently onto the floor, causing him to break the hug. She looked around the room in confusion, but apparently seeing nothing, she lowered her head back down, staring at the floor. After a long while, she stood, grabbing a nearby cloth to wipe off most of the blood. He stood with her. She looked for one last time at his body, her eyes seeming to grow more and more distant the longer she looked. He looked as well, a mournful look appearing on his face.
"I'm so sorry, Yero. I'm so, so sorry," she said softly, and closing her eyes, she turned and walked to the door. Fiyero watched and walked over to the window opposite of where his body lay as she slowly made her way down the steps, every footstep seeming a bit heavier than the last. Wiping off the tears that had been rolling down his face, he sighed heavily as she emerged from the building.
"Love you, Fae," he murmured sadly, and he merely watched as she trudged away into the snowy night.