A/N: This one is a bit of a song-fic.
Gives You Hell
By The Enchanted Broomstick
Musicalverse
It was time to leave Oz.
I knew the moment Elphaba became the Witch, that my time was coming to an end in this wonderful land. After all, when chaos happens, and suddenly the Wonderful Wizard can't fix it, it's not going to end well.
I should have known from the start that it was never going to end well. Me? A farm-raised guy who stays inside making ridiculous inventions a ruler? Never.
But I was.
And now I was responsible for my own daughter's death. Oh the irony. The man who wanted nothing more than a family of his own, being tormented by that kind of awful guilt.
Later as I'm patching the hot air balloon up, I hear the clip of a pair of heels.
And suddenly I'm looking into the tear-stained cold and angry face of Glinda the Good.
You can imagine that I'm slightly frightened.
"You're leaving soon?" She asks. Her voice is sharp, not at all the frilly light voice he was used to.
"I am, Your Goodness. The balloon should be up and running in a few hours." I mumble.
"Good." She nods and starts to walk away, but stops short, turning to me once more.
"With all due respect sir, I hope that the guilt stays with you the rest of your life. I hope that even the memory of her gives you hell."
She leaves. Finally.
But she's right.
Even my deceased daughter's sheer memory will give me total and complete hell.
When you see my face
Hope it gives you hell
Hope it gives you hell
Now where's your picket fence love?
And where's that shiny car?
Didn't ever get you far