Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
Tough, you think you've got the stuff
You're telling me and anyone
You're hard enough.
You don't always have to put up a fight
You don't always have to be right
Let me take some of the punches
For you tonight.
-Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own, U2
I.
The first time Elphaba could ever remember crying was when her mother passed away. She was very small at the time, and barely knew what was happening with the doctors rushing in and out and her father's grim expression.
She had stuck her head in to the room and then nearly threw up at the amount of blood. Father had screamed at her to get away. Melena managed, through the immense pain, to wave her young daughter forward. Elphaba had scrambled forward to her mother's side.
Melena lifted her head and stroked Elphaba's green cheek. Elphaba leaned towards her eagerly. "Fae…My darling Elphaba. You are so beau-" her entire body was wracked with a cough. "So beautiful. Always, always remember that. You are so wonderful, my love. Take care of your sister." More coughs shook her to the core. "I love you,"
Frex burst in, his eyes red, "Melena!" Elphaba fell away from her mother and moved to the corner. A harried Tiger rushed to Melena's side and tipped a small bottle down her throat. Frex grasped at her hand as her eyes closed slowly. Her chest still rose and fell slowly. Elphaba cowered in the corner, not wanting to aggravate her father.
"Sir?" The Tiger lay a hand on Frex's shoulder.
"Leave us, take her with you," He growled, not looking away from his dying wife.
The Tiger nodded and held out a paw for Elphaba to take hold. Elphaba looked up at the tall Tiger with wide brown eyes. "C'mon, little one." Elphaba grasped the Tiger's paw tightly. The nurse led the little girl away from the room, but they did not get far enough away to not hear Frex's pained screams. Elphaba looked up with innocent eyes.
"Why is Daddy sad?"
The Tiger said nothing, just shook her head sadly. She silently led Elphaba to her room. The green girl was chewing frantically on her lower lip, clearly agitated and confused.
Her father's wails echoed through the empty house and were soon joined by her baby sister's. Elphaba slipped onto her small, child sized bed and pulled the small book that her mother had given her into her lap. The book was beautifully bound in leather with colorful drawings decorating the inside. Elphaba's small fingers traced over the few words, drawing comfort from them.
Elphaba tried as hard as she could to block out the noise, but her small head was pounding. She slipped off her bed and out of the room. She padded along the hallway, searching for her new baby sister.
Her mother had shown her the room where the new baby would be staying. It was very beautiful and Elphaba couldn't help but feel a small pang of jealousy. The baby was screaming loudly in the room. Elphaba stretched up on her tiptoes to open the door.
There was a small fire burning in the fireplace across from the crib. Elphaba rushed to the side of the crib and she looked down at her baby sister for the first time. Her mother had told her the name a few weeks previously, "Nessarose." But of course, as Elphaba still had the speech of a three year old, it sounded more like, "Nessie'ose. I'm gonna call you Nessie." She declared, reaching down to touch the baby's cheek.
Nessarose tried to roll towards Elphaba and her blanket fell off her. Elphaba's eyes fell to the twisted limbs that replaced her legs. "Hi Nessie. 'm real happy you're 'ere now. Mama and Papa are happy too,"
Nessa continued crying loudly. Elphaba brushed her baby peach fuzz softly and sang a lullaby softly. "Baby mine, don't you cry. Baby mine, dry your eyes. Rest your head close to my heart. Never to part, baby mine." She trailed off, unable to think of the next words, but Nessa had stopped crying. "Shhh… Nessie. I'm gonna take care of you. Nof'in's ever gonna hurt you."
"Elphaba!" A loud voice barked from the doorway. Elphaba jumped off the crib and turned to face her father. "What are you doing?" He was standing partially in the shadows, a scowl on his face and a flask in his hand. "Get away from her! I don't want her beautiful pale skin marred by your…" he sneered down at her, "affliction." He roughly grabbed the back of her dress and yanked her out of the room. Elphaba stumbled after him.
"Papa, stop it! Ow! That hurts. Mama said not t' hur' people." Elphaba whined, squirming away from her father. Frex's eyes darkened and he turned them around the corner before pushing Elphaba against the wall. He growled to her, "Because of you, your mother is dead. Don't ever mention her to me again, you understand, Elphaba?" The stench of alcohol washed over Elphaba's senses. She could do nothing more than nod silently, terrified beyond belief.
He stood up again and wrenched her forward. Her small legs scrambled to keep up with his rough pace. Frex banged her door against the wall as he threw her into the room. Elphaba curled up on her bed, covering her ears with her hands as her father stormed away, cursing under his breath.
Once his footsteps faded, she unraveled herself. Elphaba rubbed at the itchiness in her eyes.
"Mama?" She asked the silence, her voice wavering. And there was a heavy silence in response. Elphaba brought her skinny knees to her chin and stared blankly at the door, as if waiting for her mother to walk in, a bright smile on her face.
She bit down on her lips, not wanting the tears to escape. But escape they did. And once the dam was broken, they would not stop.
She buried her face in her arms and sobbed into her dress. Her breath came in sharp hisses and coughs. The tears soaked through the dark material of her dress.
Her breathing slowed as the tears stopped flowing. Elphaba carefully gnawed at the inside of her cheek, wanting the tears to stop. Even at her young age, she had learned not to show weakness.
As the tears dried, Elphaba made a silent vow to herself to never let herself cry again.
Oh, but how wrong she was.
II.
Elphaba ducked her head and tried to hurry down the dirt road that lead back to the Governor's Mansion. She pressed her books painfully into her thin chest and did not dare to raise her eyes.
"Hey Greenie! Come over here!" An older boy, perhaps 15 or 16, yelled at her from his gaggle of friends, all laughing cruelly.
'Don't look up, don't let them get to you.' She repeated in her mind dutifully. The phrase felt as if it was pounding itself into the very bone of her scull.
Her eyes were trained on the dirt in front of her, the tips of her shoes flashing in front of her eyes for the briefest of seconds.
She would not let them get to her. She was better than them. She was smarter and cleverer than they were.
"Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" he yelled, his rural farm boy accent leaking through roughly. Elphaba pushed forward, not even bothering to look up at the boys. "Brat," he growled, or as much as teenage boy could.
He and his friends began to advance on her, all sneers and red pimples.
Elphaba refused to let herself look up at the boys. Looking up would only urge them on. And she did not want trouble. The boys were nearly 5 years older than her, and while Elphaba was tall for most Munchkins her age, she was not taller than these boys.
"You think she bleeds green?" A new voice asked harshly, his voice purposefully raised so it would reach her eyes. She tried to pick up the pace slightly, but her little chicken legs could only take her so far.
"Green bean! D'ya bleed like a freak?"
Elphaba bit down on her lip to stop a defiant remark from escaping. Her knuckles were slowly losing blood and color as she tightened her death grip on her books.
The footsteps were nearly on her and her heart skipped a beat out of fear. As a result, her quick pace stumbled a bit, giving the boys an opportunity to grab her.
"I were talkin' to ya, ya freak." The leader spat out, grabbing Elphaba's bony shoulder roughly.
This time, Elphaba was not able to quell the rebellious streak in her, and snapped back, "It's was, not were."
"How dare you talk to me!" Elphaba tried to shrug out of his grip, but he just tightened it. "You freak!" One of his mates shoved the books out of Elphaba's arms and into the dusty road. Elphaba let out a small cry of surprise and hastily dropped down to gather them up again. The leader took this opportunity to aim a kick at her side. Elphaba was flung over her books and landed harshly on the ground with a slight thud. A soft whimper was torn from her lips.
'Don't let them get to you. Don't let them get to you.' The mantra repeated in her head rhythmically.
One of the other kicked her in the other side and they all laughed cruelly as she curled into a tight ball.
"Leave me alone!" she cried out, her voice small and muffled by her arms covering her head.
"Nah," one of the boys chuckled darkly with that sick humor most teenage boys possess.
Somebody hauled her to her feet and they began shoving her around. Elphaba desperately tried to stay on her feet, but nearly tripped when an elbow caught her in the jaw. The warm, metallic tang of blood filled her mouth and dripped down the corner of her mouth. The boys paused for a moment. Elphaba hastily wiped the blood away, not wanting to show weakness.
The dark red stood out starkly on the back of her hand and some leaked onto the cuff of her jacket.
"Lookie here, she does bleed normally!" They all laughed harshly. Elphaba glanced down at the ground and her scattered schoolbooks. The boys were clutching at their sides, laughing loudly at each other. Elphaba quickly dropped down and gathered her books before they realized what she was doing.
She squeezed out between their knees and took off at a full sprint towards the Governor's Mansion. Her heart was hammering brutally against her chest bones and her lungs and muscles were protesting the speed. The books clashed against each other in her arms, cutting into the soft flesh of her arm through her coat.
The boys hadn't chased her, figuring she wasn't worth the effort.
Elphaba skidded past the gate, the gardener waving cheerfully to her. She opened the door, attempting desperately to slow and quiet her breathing. Her father would kill her if she came in and was making lots of noise.
She quietly slipped off her shoes and snuck up the stairs to her room. She cringed with every creak of the floorboards and every muted brush of her skirt against the stairs and walls.
She scurried to her room at the end of the hallway and a heavy sigh of relief escaped her. Elphaba set her books down on the tiny desk and shut the door softly, wincing at the protesting hinges.
Once the door was shut, Elphaba crumpled. Every essence of her being hurt in one-way or another. Humiliation, anger, and pain coursed through her veins. She shuffled to the little adjoining bathroom to look at her mouth. She shakily stepped up onto the little stool in front of the mirror.
A tiny trail of vivid red dripped down the right side of her chin, slowly dripping into the sink, blaring against the white of her sink.
She raised her eyes to meet her own and was shocked to see them watery and red tinged. She automatically brushed the back of her sleeve against them and a few teardrops made their escape.
Elphaba hopped off the stool, furious at her eyes' traitorous weakness. But as she sat on her bed, a fresh wave of sadness washed over her and she found it impossible to fight the tears.
III.
She didn't care. No. She didn't care at all. Not one bit that Fiyero had recoiled from her. It didn't matter. Of course not. It wasn't that big of a deal.
But it was…. However much she didn't want it to be. It was.
Elphaba was used to it. She dealt with it every day. So what made Fiyero different?
Hell, she repulsed even her own family. Why wouldn't Fiyero be the same?
And why did she care so Oz-damned much?
It wasn't like it bothered her when other people did it. That was a lie. She hated the weird looks, the mean names, and the complete exclusion she experienced at every turn. But she had learned to deal with it.
Elphaba Thropp didn't need other people. She didn't even like most people.
There it was. She liked Fiyero. (Only as a friend, or rather acquaintance) That was a lie.
"I'm not that girl," she repeated to herself, the other witness the swaying leaves and bird's nest on the branch ahead of her. She shifted so her feet were dangling off the branch she was perched on. "I'm not that girl."
She shouldn't delude herself into thinking that Fiyero could ever think of her as a friend, much less return her feelings. Yes, she, Elphaba Thropp, had feelings for Fiyero, as odd as that maybe.
Those feelings would never amount to anything, and any other thought was just fooling herself. And Elphaba was no fool.
A loud sniff broke through the air and nearly startled Elphaba out of her tree. She glanced around for a moment, searching for the other person, before realizing that it was her.
Her delicate fingers sought out her cheek gently and found dampness. She stared at her wet fingertips in surprise. She was crying. She never cried. She had something pathologically against crying. It was weak, and she could not afford to show weakness.
But, what, she wondered, was she crying about?
In all honestly, Elphaba didn't know, and she didn't really want to know. Denial is far easier than acceptance of the facts.
IV.
The air whipped past her cheeks, sending her hair into a wild frenzy beneath her hat. The thin travelling cloak was snapping viciously around her shoulders. The air was wickedly cold and she dared not look down.
The green glow of the Emerald City had long since faded and she had no idea where exactly she was headed. The stars winked merrily at her as she soared past them.
As her adrenaline began to wear off, exhaustion set in, like it generally did after performing magic. The broom handle began periodically dipping involuntarily as she grew tired.
She shook her head in an effort to wake herself up and began searching for somewhere to land. A nice clearing presented itself enticingly soon thereafter.
Elphaba guided the broom down, albeit jerkily, and landed a bit roughly, but managed to stay on her feet.
She stumbled towards a large tree and slid down into a sitting position. The events of the past day came flooding into her mind.
The Wizard was a fraud and the cause of the Animal's struggles. Madame Morrible was a witch in the worse sense of the word. She had hurt those poor Monkeys. And then Gal-wait- Glinda had…betrayed her?
No that didn't sound right. It wasn't a betrayal, but she certainly hadn't helped. But she had helped. In her own Gal-Glinda way.
She was alone again.
There were no two ways about it.
The weariness left her and she was filled with a new surge of anger. Elphaba stood up jerkily, her limbs fatigued from the hours on the broom.
She paced back and forth across the clearing, her hands curled into fists, her short nail trying to bite into her flesh.
Anger coursed through her. The Wizard was just a sad, little old man, incapable of anything. And she had been utterly and completely duped by Madame Morrible, the cow.
A trickle of self-hatred seeped in. She had hurt Animals, poor defenseless Animals. She was a danger to everyone and everything. Everything she touched turned to ash. Elphaba desperately wished for something to punch or hit. In response, a small shrub burst into flames.
Elphaba's shoulders sagged. Magic, excellent.
The bush, seeming to sense her disappointment, sputtered out.
She resumed her pacing.
Glinda had stayed behind. She was probably terrified. Elphaba shuddered at the thought of what lies the Wizard and Morrible were feeding her. For Oz's sake, the Wizard's guards had nearly attacked Glinda because of her.
Thoughts of Nessa nudged their way to the forefront of her mind. All she could picture was Nessa's face, beautifully tragic and etched with painful disappointment. And with Nessa, came Frex. His face brought a scowl to Elphaba's face, but a stab of guilt accompanied it as well. He was her father after all.
In the loosest sense of the word that is.
Elphaba sagged against the tree again, the harsh feeling of tears welling up in her chest.
Frex's scowl was picture perfect in her mind's eye. "Elphaba, how could you do this? To me? To your sister? Do you know how badly this will look politically? Do you ever think of anyone but yourself? Your mother would be so disappointed."
Elphaba winced at the imaginary words. It wasn't like they were exactly new words. It was the same lecture she got every time she did something unacceptable, if she was lucky.
Fiyero's face made the next appearance. He didn't look disappointed; he looked positively disgusted. Just that look alone pushed Elphaba over the edge. Hot angry tears cascaded down her cheeks.
"Why would anyone want to be around you?" He asked harshly. "You did everyone a favor by leaving. I hope I never see you again." He spat out. Elphaba wrapped her arms tightly around her chest as it rose in a jagged fashion with her tears.
Poor, old Doctor Dillamond's face floated in her vision, "I am so disappointed in you, Miss Elphaba. You were the Animal's only hope. And you squandered it for your own selfish gain." He shook his head condescendingly.
Elphaba's breath was coming in short gasping breaths as she sobbed.
"Elphie?" Glinda was next, "Why did you have to fly off the handle?" she echoed her words from earlier. "How could you do this to me? How could you be so selfish? Do you only ever think of yourself? Why was I ever friends with you?"
Fresh sobs shook Elphaba to her very core. She curled into herself as if protecting herself from the world.
Her mind was filled with the disappointed faces of her friends and family with the sound of Morrible and the Wizard laughing coldly at her.
Elphaba shifted the travel cloak into a pillow against the rough bark. She could have sworn that there was the faintest whiff of Glinda's floral perfume. That only brought on a fresh wave of tears of mourning for the loss of Elphaba's only friendship.
After what felt like hours, her sobbing finally subsided, but she had already drifting off.
V.
He was gone. He was gone forever. And it was all because of her.
The tears she normally would've kept at bay spilled down her cheeks without hesitation.
The cold wind bit into the dampness of her cheeks and further encouraged tears.
She had barely made it past the spot where Nessa had been flattened when the tears had overwhelmed her. Her broom had instinctively taken over and prevented her from crashing into the ground headfirst.
Elphaba could just barely make out the dark imposing outline of what should be Kiamo Ko. Just that thought renewed her tears.
They had killed him because of her, simply because he had been brainless enough to fall in love with her.
But the brainlessness was not solely on his part. She had also allowed herself to be deluded into thinking that not only did he love her, but also that everything would be okay.
Everything she touched became ash. Everything. She could name between five and ten just for today alone.
The broom had begun its descent gradually, careful not to unseat its rider. Elphaba clung to the handle like a lifeline.
Her heart felt like it had been shattered, stomped on and then set ablaze. Yesterday, with Fiyero, she had felt like things were finally starting to go her way. But, alas, the world seems to prefer her as their normal punching bag.
That was all she had wanted. Just to have some person want to be around her and want to love her. Fiyero fit all of that and more. He was a truly good person. 'And I went and got him killed.'
Of course, Glinda had contributed as well. She was the one who told them to attack Nessa to pull Elphaba out of hiding. Well, hadn't that worked just swell?
Elphaba knew that it was Morrible and the Wizard in reality. But Glinda had to have been the one to suggest it. Her reaction was enough of an answer to that.
She was nearing Kiamo Ko and was awestruck for a moment at the size. She could imagine a young Fiyero running around just outside the walls and that scene crashed into her viciously. Her sobs were renewed tenfold.
Nessa, poor Nessa, poor, tragically beautiful, sweet Nessa. Although her 'sweet' sister, obviously hadn't been very sweet in recent years.
'The Wicked Witch of the East', that was what they had been calling her. It didn't quite have the same ring as 'The Wicked Witch of the West', Elphaba thought wryly.
And then poor Boq. Her sister's neurosis had been slowly ruining the man's life and then Elphaba herself had swooped in and ruined everything for everybody (as usual).
The broom stopped steadily and Elphaba clambered off, her legs feeling akin to jelly. She stumbled to the small servants' door; the one Fiyero promised would be unlocked.
Her tears fogged her vision so it took her a few efforts before finding the handle. She stumbled into the room, swiping at her tears furiously.
"I'm so sorry, 'Yero." She mumbled weakly.
Elphaba worked her way up into the main part of the castle.
As she entered into a large library, a thought smacked her across the face. She stared at the books surrounding her with wide eyes.
"Yes, the Grimmerie. I can save him!" She cried thickly through her sobs.
Elphaba yanked the ancient book out of her satchel and kneelt on the floor in front of it.
"Fiyero!" She yelled, as if he could hear her.
She flipped through the pages hurriedly, finally settling on the right one. She wiped away her tears again and took a large, steadying breath.
"Eleka nahmen nahmen…."
VI.
Fiyero shifted slightly so he could hold Elphaba closer to him as she slept. He was still reveling in the feeling of being able to touch her with his own human hands.
The faintest sliver of moonlight was dancing across Elphaba's cheek. His heart felt as if it skipped a beat as she sighed and turned towards him, relaxing in his arms.
He was beginning to drift off again when he felt Elphaba go rigid in his arms. Her entire body was as stiff as a drawn bowstring.
Fiyero's eyes flew open in concern. He gently caressed her cheek, hoping to settle her down quickly.
Her eyes were darting back and forth under her lids. She was mumbling something and her face had contorted into a face of distress.
"Fae?" Fiyero propped himself up on one elbow to shake her slightly. She showed no signs of waking. "Fae!" He tried again; nothing. "Elphaba!" Her eyes flew open and glanced around in confusion for a moment. "Fae, it's me,"
"'Yero," she sighed, her voice thick with tears. He wrapped his arms around her and helped her sit up. His hand was rubbing soothingly up and down her spine. She let out a choked noise and brought up a hand to cover her mouth.
"It's okay to cry," Fiyero said softly, his heart clenching at the sight of Elphaba breaking down.
She buried her face in his shoulder and let out a sob. Her hands were curled between them, like a child's. Fiyero continued rubbing her back calmingly while whispering words of comfort to her.
"They killed you. And Glinda and…and… I couldn't do anything. And I made you into a scarecrow again."
"Fae, look at me," he lifted her chin with a finger, gazing into her expressive brown eyes, "They can't hurt me, or Glinda. And they definitely can't hurt you. They can't. And feel," he threaded their fingers together, "you saved me, Elphaba. You saved me by turning me into a scarecrow and you saved me by turning me back. I'm not going anywhere."
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Elphaba mumbled dejectedly, her tears slowing slightly. She kept her gaze on their joined hands, unable to meet his gaze.
Fiyero surprised a sigh. She was so insecure about him. Sometimes it was endearing, other times, it worried him. This time was the latter.
"Fae, I swear to every god in this world that I'm never leaving you, got that?" She nodded slightly, "Fae, got that?"
"Yeah, I got it," she mumbled.
"Good," he smiled softly at her, "that means I can do this every day for the rest of our lives." He cradled her head gently in his hands and lowered his lips to hers for a soft kiss. Elphaba relaxed into him. Fiyero pulled away and guided her back down, holding her partially on his chest.
"I love you, Elphaba Thorp."
"Love you too, 'Yero," she muttered sleepily, calming down and drifting back to sleep.
Hope everyone enjoyed it! This had been sitting in my WIP folder for a couple of months, and I finally motivated to finish it!
I would love to hear what you lot thought of it. I'm still a little shaky on writing for Wicked (normally I write much more...er...actiony stuff!), so any comments, concerns, or words of advice would be greatly appreciated.
Feel free to message me here or on tumblr (doyoudofondue . tumblr . com) - I'm pretty good about responding and following back. And I love requests for fics - so have at it!
-EBH