"Elphaba. Elphaba? Elphabaaa…"
"Fiyero. Go to sleep."
"Oh, good. You're awake."
"I am not."
"Elphaba?"
Silence.
Fiyero gave a long, thoughtful sigh. "What do you think Glinda is doing right now?" His words wove through the nighttime air, cautious but quietly determined.
Elphie didn't answer. She stared up at the open sky. As much as she hated being an outcast, something always seemed to bother her a little bit more than that which she fled. This time, it wasn't the hunger or sleeping in a tree. It was guilt for the two people she loved most in the world… mostly the tired scarecrow laying beside her.
"I don't know," she finally groaned, rolling onto her side and staring moodily at the long moonlit grass. Wind blew over her body, chilling through her heavy black dress, seeping into her skin. Fiyero was blessedly silent. She imagined his glinting eyes – still human despite his cloth and straw body – reflecting the mass of stars overhead. Then she heard him roll over to face her. His pleading eyes pierced her back.
"Right now... Glinda is sleeping," Elphaba said hoarsely, without turning around. Each word was laborious: "In an enormous bed with curtains and embroidered sheets. And she's dreaming about flying her bubble to the moon." Fiyero pondered this.
"I'll bet you she's awake," he countered.
"Do you. How much?" Elphaba slurred. Much to her grumpiness, Fiyero's straw-stuffed glove began to play absently with her black hair.
"I'll bet you she's awake, staring out of an enormous window, wondering what we're doing."
"She thinks we're dead." Elphaba curled into herself, choking back a familiar sob. Fiyero's hand tugged on her hair.
"What if she doesn't?"
Elphaba mumbled into her arm. "Then we'll be dead soon enough. She's terrible at keeping secrets."
Fiyero laughed. "Yeah." Elphaba's eyes were pressed into the crook of her elbow. She peeled her face away to find wet tears on her sleeve. With a strangled noise, she shot up into a sitting position and began to wipe the tears away frantically. They burned the rims of her scarred eyelids. Fear of the burn only made her cry harder.
"Elphaba." Fiyero sat up and pulled her hands away from her face. "Shh."
"No – no I can't – !" she sobbed. Her whole body shook. Fiyero pulled her snug against his squishy cloth chest. Elphaba rubbed her eyes on the remains of his Gale Force uniform. Her tears dissolved into ragged breathing. Slowly, little by little, their heartbeats calmed.
Fiyero was scared. He always freaked out when Elphaba lost her cool. She was his rock, his safe place. He knew he could never be the brave one. But lately, since leaving Oz, Elphaba was more prone to breaking down. The first time it happened, Fiyero had panicked and covered her mouth to stop the screaming. She'd punched at him in her blind fury. They'd both cried.
Now he was beyond tears. He was too frightened to say anything more; he just held Elphaba to him and squeezed his eyes shut. And he didn't let go until she pulled away for lack of oxygen.
"I'm fine," she muttered. "Sorry."
"Don't be –" he began, but she rolled over in the grass and curled into herself. Fiyero watched her for a few helpless moments. He wasn't strong. He had no gun. He couldn't protect her anymore.
"I'm useless," he blurted; a self-loathing whisper.
Elphaba rolled over and took his straw-stuffed hand, pressed it against her heartbeat. She shifted a bit closer to him, so that their shadows were a lumpy mess against the moonlit grass.
"What are..?"
"Stay like that, okay?"
"Why?"
Elphaba opened her eyes and sucked in his frustration. She drained him of hopelessness and fear, and in their place she left peace. His rock was back. "I have nightmares, Yero," she breathed. "All the time. Just stay there so I can sleep." His heart thudded. "Protect me from myself."