A/N: HAPPY TENTH WICKED ANNIVERSARY! A decade since Elphie first 'melted' like my friend's blue blob of gelatin :]
It was one of those horrid dreams again.
Glinda hated them. They weren't exactly nightmares. In fact, they were good dreams, where she visited.
Glinda would open her eyes, and see her sitting on the edge of the bed, radiant as ever, donning her black gown that seemed to reflect the dark night outside. She would smile, those prim dark lips pulling back into a smile that melted the Good Witch's heart.
They would stare at each other as they always did, back in their days of Shiz.
Then Glinda would be the first to break the silence. "Nice to see you, Green Bean."
"Nice to see you too, walking Christmas tree," Elphaba would greet in jest.
Glinda primmed up her mouth, letting her bottom pink lip jut out in an indignant pout. "I don't wear such flamboyant ball gowns anymore," she said matter-of-factly. "And for the record, I'm now in a simple dressing robe."
"Which surprisingly, is not pink," fleered Elphaba in return.
"Yes, it is light blue," sighed Glinda, "Like your eyes."
Elphaba paused, grimacing slightly. "So are yours," she said stiffly. She moved off the bed, and Glinda climbed out, walking over to the dressing table.
"Do you realize how similar we are?" she asked, absentmindedly picking up a diamond necklace from her jewelry box.
"You're not green," said Elphaba shortly.
"Yes, well – "
"And you're blonde."
"I suppose – "
"And you aren't dead."
Glinda froze, her necklace dropping upon the table. This was one reason why she hated the dreams. They only served as reminders of the barricade between the dead and the living, of the line that separated her and Elphaba, that ultimately, she was alone. It was a thorn in the side, a prick she could not remove.
"I wish you weren't," said Glinda coldly. "I wish I had been as brave and defiant as you. I wish I hadn't let jealousy the best of me. I wish I hadn't given Dorothy those shoes. I wish I were dead!"
She screamed, letting her denial pierce the air. Picking up the necklace, she threw it at the mirror with all her might, shattering that reflection of hers, that repulsive image of Elphie's true murderer. Crumpling to the ground, she sobbed with all her might, gripping the marble floor till her knuckles turned white. It was all her fault that they were separated. She'd let jealousy and selfishness blind her, killing off three of her closest friends. She was a murderer.
A monster.
She felt Elphie's presence behind her, but she didn't turn to face the woman.
"I'm sorry, Glinda I just – "
"Don't be!" shrieked Glinda. "Don't apologize to a monster."
There was a moment of heavy silence between them, of which Elphaba broke once more.
By laughing.
Glinda swiveled around to look at her friend, who was now doubled over in chortles. She was at a lost for words. She'd expected Elphie to try and apologize again, or approach her to wrap a comforting arm around her. She hadn't expected…this.
"Of course, the Wicked Witch taunts her victims by laughing all over their bed," said Glinda, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I – I'm sorry," said Elphaba again as she threw yet another fit of laughter. "It's just…just so hilarious, preposterous! You? A monster? What, then, does that make me, the Wickedest Witch there ever was?
"A person mistaken for a monster Elphie. You know you meant well."
Elphaba composed herself once again, forcing herself into seriousness. "You are no more a monster than I am, Glinda. We have made mistakes, yes, but we've put that behind us. To err is human, to forgive, divine. Doesn't that make us angelic saints?"
"Sure, I can get used to the Wicked Witch of the West being an angel," said Glinda, again unable to bite back the sarcasm.
Elphaba rolled her eyes at her friend's dour mood. "You just don't get it, do you? Yoouuu just don't get it. There are more things to life than just mistakes. They are the past. You live in the present, Glinda. Think of all the things we've shared and seen! Don't think about the way things might've been."
"I've tried, even Lurline knows that!" said Glinda, frustrated. "I've tried too hard to put you from my mind, Elphie, yet I can go not a single day without thinking of you."
"I'm not asking you to completely wipe me from your memory, Glin, just simply think of all the good things we've done together. Like in Shiz, when you danced with me."
"Out of guilt," admitted Glinda bluntly.
Elphaba was silenced by the confession, wincing slightly. "Isn't that nice to know…" she muttered under her breath. To the blonde she said, "Well, how about my Galindafication?"
Glinda smiled at the thought. "Look at you, using Galindabulary."
"Using what?"
"Galindabulary. Galinda vocabulary." Glinda couldn't help but snicker slightly at her friend's utter bemusement.
Elphaba raised an eyebrow, but eventually returned the smile. "Well, that adds one more to the list of similarities between us."
Glinda stifled a yawn. Could one even yawn in a dream? "What was the initial list in the first place?" she asked with childlike curiosity.
"Well, firstly, like you said, we both have cerulean eyes," began Elphaba, and help Glinda off the floor. "Second, we both can fly."
"I still say bubble is better than broom," insisted Glinda as she let herself be led to the bed.
"Thirdly," continued Elphaba, ignoring Glinda's comment. "We both hate the Carp. I even first saw her nametag as Madame Horrible."
Glinda giggled as she crawled under the satin covers of her bed; so had she.
"And lastly…"
Glinda never heard Elphaba's words after that, for the world went black.
Morning. Glinda hated morning. The garish light of day chased away her dream world of night, her time with Elphie. It pulled her out of her life inside her head, to the hard knocked life outside her head. It was that moment when reality would smack her awake, from dreaming that Elphie was near, to finding nothing but the empty air.
She sat up, rubbing her aching temples. Slipping out from under the covers, she moved to the dressing table to brush her locks…
…only to find it shattered.
Glinda bit back a squeal as she stumbled backwards.
It's okay, Glinda, you must've been sleepwalking in your dream…yes, that's the only possible explanation.
A breeze drifted in, rustling something pinned under her necklace on the dressing table. Curious, Glinda lifted the jewelry to find a folded note.
With hands trembling from the overwhelming trepidation, she opened the note, revealing a string of neat handwriting that she thought she'd never see again.
We both have the bestest best friends.
A/N: Oh, and Happy Halloween!