Disclaimer: I don't own anything. All credits for WICKED go to Gregory Maguire, Stephen Schwartz. I own the plot, the idea, the mistakes (spelling and grammar), nothing else.

Sorry, not betaread. I am still looking for a betareader. If someone is willing to betaread my WICKED-fanfics, please e-mail me.

N o G o o d D e e d

And then she made a promise to herself. Never to do a good deed again.

With every good deed she was punished.

She had to leave her old life behind for defying the wizard.

She had to transform Boq into a tinman to undo Nessas spell.

She had to leave Fiyero in the hands of the Gale Force for trying to mourn her sister.

She had killed Fiyero.

Not with her own hands. But her good deed – her spell – would have killed him by now.

If he wasn't already dead.

She just stared out the window and half listened to the sounds going on around her. The rain was coming down in buckets. It was as if heaven was crying for Fiyero.

Now she had lost everything. She had lost her little piece of happiness. Just a split second had been enough. She was hit by a grief too deep for words, and she bowed her head for a moment, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Crying wouldn't undo her so called good deeds.

No matter how many tears she cried they never could bring back the dead.

She would cherish the memory of Fiyero forever in her heart.

He had believed in her until his very end. He had believed that she wasn't wicked just misunderstood, lonely, unloved. He had loved her. Believed in her.

His feelings for her had killed him in the end.

And even worse than the thought of Fiyero being dead was the knowledge that it was all her fault.

She was wicked, after all.

"Alright, enough, so be it! So be it then. Let all of OZ be agreed. I'm wicked through and through."

As the wonderful Wizard of OZ himself had once said to Elphaba: You have to give the people what they want.

If Oz wanted a Wicked Witch then it was a Wicked Witch they were going to get.

END