AN: Just a little oneshot while I figure out where to take my main fic. Enjoy!
The sun beamed brightly on Nessarose's glittering shoes; her pale skin almost glowing in the dazzling light. She wheeled at a leisurely pace through the front gates of Shiz's railway station, with Boq close behind for company as well as security. She checked her pocket watch, admittedly quite gleeful at the thought of seeing her sister and classmate back safely from their visit to the Emerald City.
Nessa had been so proud of her sister, on some level, for being summoned to see the Wizard on account of her magical abilities, but she had felt lost without the green girl at her side. They had never needed to be apart, for their father had made sure that Elphaba would always be the one to take care of her younger, sicklier sister.
Boq shuffled along behind, his hands reluctantly gripping the handles of the chair. "Which platform is it?" he uttered, in a vague attempt to not seem so awkward, so put upon.
"Platform five. Come along Boq, or we'll miss them!"
The unlikely pair spent several minutes traipsing up and down the platform, until a train began to slow and a large crowd of unruly passengers started their descent into the station. Nessa twisted in her seat, craning her neck and looking about for a flash of green, a glimpse of deep ebony.
Suddenly she spotted familiar golden curls, a pale yellow dress. The young Thropp attempted to fight her way through the crowds to the very edge of the platform, with little help from Boq.
"Glinda, we're over here," Nessarose waved, and gave one of her brilliant smiles – the kind that could soften the heart of anyone who witnessed it. The blonde did not seem to acknowledge the younger girl at first, as she had stepped down onto the platform alone with her head lowered, and her eyes on her own feet.
Something did not feel right. The Glinda who had left for the grandeur of the Emerald City had been so bubbly and excitable, dragging a reluctant Elphaba by the arm as they said their goodbyes, and now she seemed to have lost the spark in her eyes.
Nessarose urged Boq to take her to Glinda when she noticed there was no sign of her sister's sharp features or her black army boots clomping along the platform's edge. The munchkin boy did as he was told, huffing under his breath and pushing Nessa rather forcefully before pulling on the brakes. Glinda seemed to snap out of her daydream then, coming to a halt before she could trip over Nessarose's delicate feet.
The young Thropp sat up straight, pressing her hands together with anxiety. She'd been so happy to see her classmate after what seemed to be such a long trip. But Elphaba was still nowhere to be seen, and she suddenly felt rather nauseous. "Where's Elphie? Stuck on the train, harping on to some old Gentleman about Animal rights, I suppose?"
Glinda lifted her head, and Nessa was stunned. Glinda's otherwise flawless face was stained with already spent tears, and it took all she had to shake her head weakly. She could not find the willpower to speak.
Nessarose looked up at the young blonde in earnest, trying so hard to understand but failing entirely. She gripped at the arms of her chair in an attempt to lean forward. "What's wrong? Glinda?"
"She's not coming back."
The simple statement only made Nessa recoil, but still she stared at her classmate with confusion. She couldn't quite take in what Glinda was saying. The quiver in the blonde's voice only served to unsettle her; words just bounced around in her head, making it feel stuffy and disorientated. "What do you mean, 'not coming back'?"
"Elphie... she stayed behind in the City, the foolish thing. She isn't coming back!"
The words meant nothing; she was being so silly! Elphaba would never run off and leave her alone, not for her cause, not for anything.
"You're lying, aren't you?"
"She's gone, Nessa. She's gone."
"No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't, Glinda!" The young Thropp's eyes brimmed over with unshed tears. Tears of absolute anger, or betrayal, of grief. Glinda had already been struck with the immense sadness of being left behind, but she'd had the entire journey back to Shiz to mull over it; though that was no consolation at all, and didn't change the fact that the green girl was long gone. She'd only felt a strange numbness inside as she watched, deflated, as Nessarose failed to hold herself together. She was like a ragdoll, glass eyes always seeing and feeling but always so very delicate.
"I tried to stop her," Glinda murmured, and put a hand to her mouth to stifle a quiet sob. Nessarose locked eyes with her then, but neither needed to speak.
Boq walked away then, unable to watch as the object of his affection wrapped her arms around the crippled girl's shoulders in an awkward embrace.
Nessarose found that she'd been taken under Glinda's wing after that. She had even been moved from Madame Morrible's suite into the small room the blonde girl had shared with Elphaba. Nessarose wasn't sure if she found it a comfort or not, though she was certain she was only there to fill the gap left behind by her sister. She was a poor replacement at best; both girls were now forced together out of necessity and a strange need for different things only the other could provide.
Glinda sought company, or a real friend. She'd long since realised that the Misses Pfannee, Shenshen and Milla were as superficial as the false eyelashes she applied every morning. In some ways, Nessarose reminded her of Elphaba, though it seemed that she was only selfishly clutching at the younger girl in an attempt to hold onto something that was no longer there.
Nessarose sought peace and the kind of sisterly affection that came without pity. She had been taught the act of forgiveness for her entire life of devoutness. But as much as she tried, in hers and Glinda's shared grief, praying for Elphaba's absence no longer filled the gaping hole, and she found that nothing ever would.
"I stood by [Nessa] when you abandoned her in Shiz... I became her surrogate sister. And as an old friend I gave her the power to stand upright by herself through those shoes." – Glinda (Gregory Maguire - 'Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West')