Summary: Bookverse. Nor is sick and Elphaba's left to care for her. Just a sweet little moment I thought up while I was sick myself. R&R! Luvz J
"Nor," Elphaba whispered through the crack between the door, "Nor, are you feeling all right?"
"No," Nor shouted painfully from inside her room. There was the sound of coughing and retching and then Nor shouted, "Auntie Elphaba, can you help me?"
Elphaba sighed; she never thought of herself as a caretaker, but she opened the door anyway and said, "Sure, what's wrong?"
It wasn't too hard to tell. Nor sat up on her bed with a bucket on her lap, sweaty, half-sobbing and holding her hair up. She retched again and there was a splat inside the bucket.
"Oh, Nor, here," Elphaba said softly, taking the bucket and flushing the disgusting contents down the drain. Setting the bucket on the side of Nor's bed, she began to tie the young girl's hair up in a tight ponytail.
"Why can't it just go away?" Nor suddenly exclaimed. Elphaba sighed again, petting the poor child's sweaty forehead.
"I know how you feel," she whispered.
"How would you—"
Nor's words were cut off by another wave of nausea and vomiting. She looked up from her bucket with a pitiful look on her face at Elphaba and said, "Oh, momma—"
She cut herself off again, looking shocked at herself and a little fearful. "Can I call you momma?"
Elphaba looked at her sadly, seeing in Nor's miserable face the pain that she herself tried to hide every day; the kind, physical or mental, that just wouldn't go away no matter what. She just went on petting the little girl's forehead, saying to her, "Yes, Nor, you can call me whatever you want."
"Okay, momma," Nor closed her eyes contentedly, smiling softly. "This helps, you know, having someone to talk to."
"Does it?"
"Yes. If my mother were here, the second she saw what was in that bucket, she'd run and go throw up herself. I'd never get better this fast if I were alone. You're a lot nicer than mother. That's why I called you momma. Because you acted like one."
Her words tugged at something in Elphaba's heart. Her mother didn't act much like a mother to her, either. She may have had her motherly moments but they were rare.
"Momma?"
"Yes, Nor?"
"Why do people call you a Wicked Witch? Because I think you're really nice. You're nothing like the witches in the stories mother tells me."
"People will believe things if they trust the person saying them."
"Momma, why are people so stupid?"
Elphaba smirked at that. "Everyone's stupid in their own right."
"But why would people believe something if they don't know it's true?"
"Because, as you said, people can be pretty stupid."
"Oh."
Nor looked thoughtfully out her window.
"Momma?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think Papa's gonna come back?"
That question broke Elphaba's heart. "I hope so," she murmured.
"He would have helped me. You two would make better parents than him and mother."
"Really?"
"Yes," Nor said. She closed her eyes again, and was soon asleep. But as Elphaba closed the door she heard Nor whisper one more thing.
"I love you, momma."