Elphaba ran Fiyero was in front of her guiding her through the dark forest. Shots rang out piercing several trees they ran by. Her fear rose with each step. She thought they would be safe after she faked her death, she couldn't be more wrong though. They had seen her on the way out- it had been a small group of Gale Forcers and she hoped that maybe news hadn't gotten out of her survival- yet.
They stopped in a clearing and Fiyero spun around wildly. "I don't know where to go!" He cried out, panic obvious in his eyes.
Elphaba stuck out her hand, she didn't want to but she had to.
She summoned her broom.
The danger is it had to come to her, finding its way through the forest. But the Forcers could follow it -and find them- but she was desperate now. They managed to shoot Fiyero, even though it didn't hurt him she still worried.
The broom came. There was no sound of trampling guards or howling voices on the trail. Relief flooded through her as they rose through the sky. They ascended above the treetops; she could see the Guards on the ground, their guns trained on them.
She heard a bullet glide towards them and swerved out of the way at the last second. She smiled triumphantly.
"What are you trying to shoot?" She yelled, "I thought you guys actually-"
She stopped and looked down. The first signal of pain going through her. A dark crimson spot formed on her dress and slowly spread out. Fiyero turned around to look why they stopped. "Fae!"
"Fiyero, I'm so sorry-"
Those bastards had shot her! Elphaba felt herself losing consciousness, her grip on the handle of the broom slackened and the world spun around her. She slipped off the broom and fell to the earth as if in slow motion. Fiyero dipped the broom down desperately trying to catch up with her.
But he was too late.
She hit the ground with a sickening thud a second before he tumbled to the earth. He frantically took her in his arms. The guards seemed to have disappeared. She was a pale green, no pulse.
"FAE!" He screamed, anguish filled his voice as he yelled to the heavens.
The next day there was a fire in a farmer's local field, they say it started from a careless bonfire celebration over the witch's death.
The Scarecrow was never seen again.
That was for you, Happy 3611 ;)