It Had To Be Her
Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked, because if I did, I wouldn't have to write a disclaimer!
Glinda's shriek of agony echoed in Fiyero's ears as he stared down the sight before him, his eyes unseeing, his mind unable to register what had just happened. It couldn't be her… Elphaba was not dead! She was too powerful… she had to have had some sort of protection spell up. That bleeding, unmoving form was not Elphaba… she was too alive, so vibrant and fiery, no bullet could do any harm to her.
Fiyero glanced at Glinda, hoping that he wouldn't see what he thought he'd see. His hopes were dashed; Glinda stood not six feet away, her hands over her mouth and tears running down her cheeks. She was staring at the spot where her best friend lay dead, the pain she was feeling unmistakable.
Mutely, Fiyero knelt down and lifted Elphaba's green form from the ground, and as soon as he felt the coldness of her skin, he knew there was no denying it. "No," he moaned, "Oh, no… Elphaba… Elphaba, why?"
In his heart, he knew why. Elphaba had loved him. She had died to save him. He had been trying to protect her, yet she had died protecting him. A guard had been aiming at him, ready to shoot. Fiyero viewed the scene in his mind's eye.
Guards were everywhere, and Glinda was trying to reason with them, saying that Fiyero had had no real intention of harming her, but they were refusing to listen. Elphaba had been caught, and Fiyero had threatened Glinda, and they had attacked. Fiyero tried to hold his own, but he and Elphaba were outnumbered.
"FIYERO! BEHIND YOU!" he heard Elphaba shout, but as he started to turn, a gunshot rang out.
Fiyero braced himself, waiting for the pain. It didn't come. He heard a surprised gasp, heard Glinda scream Elphaba's name, and the guards shout something unintelligible. He looked down. Elphaba lay at his feet, her dark eyes staring sightlessly at the sky in death…
'It had to be her,' he thought. 'It should've been me, but it had to be her.' Tears pricked his eyes, and he closed them, cradling Elphaba's cold form against his chest.
"Elphaba, wake up," he pleaded, hoping this was all fake, that it hadn't happened. "Come on, this isn't funny, Elphaba! Wake up…"
"Fiyero," Glinda said softly, "She's dead."
"No," he mumbled dumbly. "She had power; she had some sort of protection… some spell…"
"No, Fiyero," Glinda corrected him sadly, tears in her eyes. "She didn't have a shield up or anything. She's gone."
"NO!"
Glinda was sobbing now, and she fell to her knees beside him, smoothing Elphaba's dark hair out of her face. She turned to Fiyero, putting a hand on his shoulder. Fiyero could not be comforted. He was weeping now, clutching Elphaba even more closely to him, whispering, "Not her, not her… why did it have to be her?"
A guard's voice from behind them yelled triumphantly, "She's dead! The Wicked Witch is dead!" Cheers came from behind them.
Glinda sprang to her feet and whirled around, her eyes flashing with rage, pain, and grief. "You idiots!" she snarled. "You believed all of those lies, but you know nothing!! The—Elphaba was fighting for what she believed in! She did nothing wrong! She was good, and she had a heart that was much larger than any of yours! So shut your brainless mouths and get out of here!"
The guards stared stupidly at her for a moment, not comprehending.
"Now," she snarled, "Before I give you a Wicked Witch!"
At that, the guards turned and ran, still confused, but fearful. Fiyero had heard her, of course, but he was so consumed by grief that he did not even look up to stare in shock at Glinda's uncharacteristic behavior.
"It had to be her," he whispered.